Melvyn Minnaar: Judging art (and wine)

Over the years I have had great opportunities to be on the judging side in the visual arts world. Being on a selection panel to rate artworks – like reviewing any creative effort – is an honour, an adventure, a taunt, and a learning experience.

A problem facing an art critic or judge is that astute artists bring on the surprise. They challenge knowledge and experience. One gets face to face with the unfamiliar, the new, the different, the rebellious. And, of course, the brilliance of invention and creativity. A critic should live that long to know and see all!

Same applies to wine, methinks.

A few years ago, I had the exceptional and privileged experience of being included in a panel that was rating the vintage’s young wines for the Hospice de Beaune charity en primeur auction which took place later that year – as usual on the third Sunday in November.

The parallel of the art/wine process and experience is, for me, a delightful mental tickle. So, this was special, and I was wrapped into the delightful dramatics of a bunch of French wine people buzzing around a long table. They were also seemingly having fun while working hard. ‘Fun” hardly comes to mind in the never-ending local arguments about judging wine, sighted or not, scored in petty points or silly stars, and the egos in play.

No, I wasn’t a judge in that French mêlée. Thanks to friends, the lengthy line of knowledgeable winemakers and tasters on duty allowed me to join the circling queue. They drilled around the tasting table at a hair-raising pace. The speed at which they were moving in the line, with me squashed in between, was even more of a challenge than coming to terms with the glorious, pip-squeek but personable, wines. These were hurriedly poured into glasses, swirled, sniffed, thought about, and chucked. Given a nod or not.

What a learning curve it was. Invigorating, it nailed down my life-long love affair with the region and its banner wines.

Besides the cheer, what struck me about the event was the generosity all round. The goodwill towards the Hospice’s cause, long-established since 1859, and heartily supported by the local donated expertise, of course. But also the jolly cellarmasters sharing samples, wisdom, and encouragement – all interacting with the judging process. There was a serious job to be done, but a jollity no one could escape while important decisions were made. (The Hospice de Beaune auction label is as high-status as it gets.)

As art critic, I often experienced similar upbeat merriment among a panel of art judges. And often the consensus, often quickly arrived at, has been an edifying experience: true mastery always proclaims itself. If you look carefully, honestly, and sensitively, it flaunts itself. Isn’t that true for wine as well?

It is impossible to judge art without information and knowledge of provenance.

Years ago, a professor of mine formulated a simple method: look/listen sensitively what the artist wants to tell you. Then, be serious with a good open mind, test that objectively to what you known and have in front of you.

This is one of the reasons why I give short shrift to ‘blind’ wine judging. To me, openness and honesty are the keys in all judging processes. All to often it seems to me that the extraordinary pleasure (and fun) of great wines gets waylaid in one-upmanship judging and a foolish numbers game.

To me the prof’s formula says: know as much as you can of the wine and then judge as open-mindedly and exactly whether it passes the bar it set for itself in the hierarchy of vinous excellence.

Common sense is that artworks do not subscribe to scientific investigating. Yet we establish their excellence and worth. They manage to convey this successfully to us, art observers.

While many components in a glass of wine can be measured scientifically, the overall intention of the winemaker, as you sip his/her creation, is significantly similar to the sensual experience artists expect of an open-minded viewer. Human pleasure, thrill, and intellectual engagement will make itself known.

This is not quantifiable in any system. Just think how ridiculous it will be walking around the Cape Town International Art Fair (coming up again next February) and scoring the paintings, sculptures and videos to a 100-point system.

• 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”.