We spoke to Chester Osborn, chief winemaker at d’Arrenbergs Winery in McLaren Vale.
He told us about curiosity, passion and how he’s doing things a just a bit differently.
Chester Osborn; Winemaker
Tell me about the ‘Art of Being Different’.
The ‘Art of Being Different’ is in many different areas.
In viticulture – we haven’t fertilized our vines for ten or fifteen years, so they have lots of green color and their stalks are riper. The soil flavor is stronger in the grapes and you get more soil tannins, better acidity and a slower evolving wine. It’s part of the difference.
The next is in the winemaking. We basket press everything. We have 10 basket presses here. All our reds are made in small 5 tonne batches. Open fermenters that are submerged cap—which are extremely rare. 160 fermenters going at one time.
We don’t have any modern tank presses. I don’t fine wines. No copper, no fining and no filtration. Over half the production doesn’t get racked. It stays on its leas in the barrels. Really, what it comes down to is the grape growing.
I looked at the wines we were making in the 60’s and the 70’s and they were amazing wines. And I thought, ‘why don’t we wind the vineyards back and see what we get by doing that’.
The only other part of the ‘Art of Being Different’ is the marketing.
We created these stage names for all our labels, most of which are humorous, and relate back to the wine and the process. Then we have caricatures of each of the label names. We commissioned 26 of the top cartoonists in Australia to draw pictures. It keeps the humor rolling.
So, that’s the Art of Being Different. And wearing loud shirts and loud clothes.
Where does all this lead?
Wine is just fun. Even if you are seriously looking at the wine, it’s still fun. I tell people, if they are taking our a bottle of say Broken Fish Plates—a Viognier Blanc—and their friend looks down at it and says, ‘what the heck’s that? What’s a broken fish plate?’ And they have a laugh.
When you laugh, all your senses are heightened. And then it tastes better than it really is.
You grew up on the Vineyard?
I was born on the farm. I started picking grapes at the age of seven; I got 10 cents an hour. I got a wage raise the next year to 30 cents an hour. I was working the winery with the barrels and bottling, I was doing all of the different parts from quite a young age.
Basically when I was eight years old, I told my father—I’m going to go Prince Alfred Junior after I finish at McLaren Vale primary. Then Secondary school. Then I’ll take a year off and work in the States. Then I’ll study wine at Roseworthy College. Then, go over seas for six months, and then I’ll come back. And, then what are you going to do?
What did he say?
He found it rather interesting. I don’t think he said much of all. But he remembers that story very well. So I did all that. And, then when I got home, he said, ‘well you’re trained now, you make the wine’.
And of course you aren’t really. It’s like sending someone to art school and not handing them a paint-brush or a canvass. And then saying when they finished the course, ‘You paint me a million dollar painting now’. Well they aren’t going to, are they?
Do you feel like making the wine in this old style way, do think you have a personal connection to the wine that you make?
Very much so. That’s the fantastic part about it, each small parcel of fruit.
In a vineyard, it might be that at the top is poor soil and its a bit richer in the middle and the bottom my be relatively rich. And, so we’ll pick the top separately.
The reason I do it that way is that if you picked it all and put it all together, you have to compromise. You over extract the really poor soil and under extract the really rich soil. And, you’d end up with a wine with really tight tannins.
That gives you the ability to understand the vineyard fully. You can see it evolving and it makes a better wine.
I go out in the vineyard five hours a day, during vintage, tasting grapes and working out what the process should be for the next whole year in that vineyard.
I’m still making mud pies. Now, fortunately, people want to buy them and drink them.
Do you think there is a “divine dissatisfaction”?
There is absolutely no doubt in winemaking that you are always fine-tuning.
One life, in winemaking, is almost not enough to really understand the whole thing. Well maybe it is enough to understand a fair bit – but then your done. You can pass on as much as you can, but every year is different.
What is the intangible that you can’t pass on?
Experience, really. Like the taste of grapes. It takes a lot of tasting of grapes to understand, to separate yourself from the sugar and taste the tarts and tannins that you want to see. I think that takes quite a bit of time.
You’ve got to have a bit of guts. You’ve got to push the envelope to learn. And it’s a bit in your nature. And obviously the main thing is that you have to be passionate. It’s only through passion that you can taste wine correctly
And I think most people could be a great wine taster if they are passionate enough.
What does the passion bring you when you are tasting?
The more passionate you have the more you want to understand. The more the more you understand all the flavors where they come from, how they are ageing, what you like, what should be buying.
So passion is curiosity?
Yes, of course. Anyone who is passionate about something will do it almost obsessively. You really want to know every single thing about it.
How do you maintain that passion? I know you guys had a rough year with the weather.
I think you have it or you don’t. I’ve never worked a day in my life; I’m still making mud pies. Now, fortunately, people want to buy them and drink them. They are a lot better perfumed than the mud pies I made when I was one.
When you love something there is a wonderful sense of play?
Absolutely. That’s the wonderful thing about passion. I’ll wake up the morning excited and go in early because I’ll think, ‘I want to make this wine’. The thought of another whole vintage is so much fun—that there are all these grapes sitting around that I’ve got to taste.
Whom should we talk to next?
Drew Newton. He’s a passionate fellow and a deep thinker. He’d be quite interesting to talk to. He’s another McLaren Vale producer, he basically sells all his wine in one day. Because he is so popular.
