Melvyn Minnaar: Days of cheese, wine and art

There was a time when “cheese ‘n wine” was the go-to invitation and setting for lots of launches. Events or announcements, receptions and, well, low-budget parties of the 1970s stuck to that game plan.

But most of all C&W was the menu, agenda and the the be-all and end-all of art openings and exhibitions in those days. Without getting overwhelmed by nostalgia for tiny squares of cheddar or gouda pierced by toothpicks loaded with multi-coloured mini ‘cocktail onions’, I do recall that decent glasses of red were sometimes available. Red wine, so the protocol held then, was the go-to colour to accompany cheese.

Those were the days when Zonnebloem was a stately ‘cultural’ brand and gave an element of refinement to the gatherings. KWV’s Roodeberg, a rarity thanks to someone in the gallery or artist’s circle having a contact, too, brought prestige. (Remember it was only for ‘export’ in those ‘us-and-them’ apartheid days.)

The tiny cubes of cheese usually remained innocuous and unobtrusively orange. It was a time before those two were joined on the snacks table by the ‘sophisticated’ likes of brie and camembert.

Looking back now at a time when Boschendal Brut is served at the lively launches of events like the Cape Town Art Fair, those scenes of C&W look oddly retro. But believe me, it was an important, necessary part of the set-up when important personalities, at some stage, moved in behind the microphone to open such glorious grand art exhibitions.

To be seen in Cape Town’s cultural circles, meant to be around at those C&W tables – especially at the openings at the South African National Gallery, then stately home of ultimate artistic merit.

Raymund van Niekerk, the urbane, charming director of that institution from 1976 to 1989, was more a man for a Bloody Mary at brunch and real champagne generally. He accepted that red wine was what culture vultures sipped, but the cheese thing increasingly irritated his sensibilities.

The issue was the scavengers. And the cost. We used to laugh afterwards about how those well-dressed ladies surreptitiously slipped chunks of cheese into their handbags. So much for ‘style’, he would say. Greasy fingers and high art just doesn’t seem to go together.

And so the C&W fashion at art celebrations faded. Whether it was the cheese that had become more expensive or the new wave of soft, blue, runny and the like that made it impractical, cheese returned to the private dinner party (and the school lunch box).

It could also be, as that stalwart of cuisine parings, the celebrated Katinka van Niekerk, pointed out in her and Brian Burke’s very smart The Food & Wine Pairing Guide (2009), cheese and wine do not always harmonise. “Where does the myth that cheese and wine are good companions come from?” – they shot down gallery tradition.  

They went ahead and laid out a meticulous plan of which wines go with which cheese – and how you approach such mix ‘n match table scenarios. It is well worth a revisit.

But back to art and the opening performance. Like I believe most first-nighters do, I enjoy a glass of wine at the start of proceedings. If for nothing else, the mood. If there is something to learn and to experience while contemplating art on the walls, so much the better.

This is exactly what will happen next week when the culturally-sussed Bruce Jack brings along some of his vinous creations to the opening of an exhibition of artist portraits by the late Paul Alberts to the Hermanus FynArts Gallery. You’ll be able to swirl, sniff and sip and compare, and take on the challenge to find (again) the link between wine and art.

Not a cube of cheese will be served, but a peepshow of master Jack’s fine wines will be offered, and maestro Albert’s fine eye will be on view.

• Melvyn Minnaar has written about art and wine for various local and international publications over the years. The creativity that underpins these subjects is an enduring personal passion. He has served on a few “cultural committees”.