It’s that time of the year again, when after the mad rush, you are hopefully able to finally settle down to a number of days of relative calm. Your thoughts start to turn to wine and which bottles of your stock to sip during the holiday season. Ellen Wallace provides a touching personal reflection, but one that’s relatable to all, of a wine that not only celebrates the memory of a loved one, shared together during a Christmas past, but also explores the question of whether wine can be considered as art.
To do so, she looks at a Renoir for an hour and relates it remarkably back to her special wine. We have republished an extract, however, the full thought-provoking piece can be read at: https://ellenwallace.substack.com/p/wine-is-art?r=hxg6&utm_medium=ios&triedRedirect=true
Before the holidays, consider your wines. I don’t mean: start your shopping list. I mean: think about what you might drink and why and, in particular, how. Ask if you can give one wine more time than usual. Consider forgetting that you want to impress others or yourself with that very special very expensive, very old vintage bottle lurking in a dark corner. Give yourself the gift of knowing wine as art.
At my house in the Swiss Alps on Christmas Eve we will open a bottle of 2018 Vin de Constance from winery Klein Constantia in South Africa. This is a sweet wine, not late harvest, that has been famous for centuries (Jane Austen and Napoleon liked it), but that’s not why we are drinking it. My husband and I tasted and were enchanted by earlier vintages while visiting his family in SA for Christmas 2019—his last, as it turned out. He died in an accident in December 2020, when all the world was worried about dying from Covid. We will raise a glass to Nick (maybe rereading our tribute to him) and to his happiness the day he first tasted Vin de Constance.
This will not be a sad toast. Nick and I visited wild Pearly Beach, then cozy Hermanus on the coast, before going to Klein Constantia (Cape Town) for a tour of the vineyards. My notebook was filled with questions and my mind laboured to memorize the answers as we grabbed the sides of the bouncing open jeep that December day. It was followed by a tasting session in the cozy cellar of this remarkable winery founded in 1685 (better for note-taking). From there we went to his nephew’s home in Stellenbosch and enjoyed the antics of children on Christmas Eve, then stood out in the garden after a braai (barbecue) on a cool summer night, for it’s the southern hemisphere. Nick sang along to Paul Simon, Diamonds on the Soles of Her Feet. No one objected that he was a bit off key.
A passing family of nine paused to carol for us, a capella Christmas songs with exquisite African harmonies. An ancient grandpa carried the deepest, richest notes, causing me to shiver at the sheer beauty of it, and I drew my shawl closer. At the end, as someone handed out warm cookies all around, he came up to me, as the oldest “A Ma”, took my hands in his and bowed. Nick’s smile, for family and his beloved Africa, was peace itself.
Vin de Constance will not be venerated or canonized for its cost or fame or history this 24 December, despite its reputation. While these wines can last decades, we’re having a wine that was bottled just three years ago. It will be fully appreciated because I plan to give it time and pay attention to the wine itself. I’ll look for the emotional message it sends.
The emotion I’m talking about runs deeper than my family story. Wine that is art shares a universal message.
Photos by Ellen Wallace.
Art: Giotto di Bondone and assistants, Stefaneschi triptych (source: Musei Vaticani)