Tim James: More on the death – and survival – of old vineyards

In response to the piece I wrote about the death of the old vineyards that produced Alheit’s Radio Lazarus, a reader named Gareth commented: “I do wonder if there are any other celebrated labels that might suffer the same fate?” An important question, that’s been tumbling round in my head, and now I’m getting round to saying something about it.

Incidentally, the matter of vineyards coming to the end of their lives came up at the Cape Town launch last week of the latest vintage of an undoubtedly celebrated label, Kanonkop Paul Sauer. The vineyard – a cluster of blocks – that produces this great wine was planted nearly 40 years ago. The vines have undoubtedly been carefully looked after, tended well and not pushed to produce vine-weakening volumes, and should produce fine wines, perhaps in ever-reducing volumes, for many years to come. But already coming into maturity are vines planted in similar varietal proportions in virtually identical conditions nearby (the Kanonkop team is satisfied that they are showing the same character), and this should ensure the long-term survival of Paul Sauer. Presumably, as the orginal vines start reaching their life-limit, they will be progressvely replaced.

I suppose the easy answer to the question about other celebrated labels also sinking as the vineyard dies is – yes, if they are single-origin wines, like Radio Lazarus, they will inevitably disappear, sooner or later (though usually not as suddenly). Unless, of course, extending the life and vigour of the vines as much as possible is accompanied by, over time, planting new vines in the gaps left behind by dead or removed vines. This is, for example, what happened to the Stellenbosch chenin vineyard that produces Sadie’s Mev Kirsten. Much of it was planted in the 1920s, but, more recently 100 or so new vines were interplanted each year. Now about 25% of that vineyard consists of younger vines – though the average age remains pretty old. Another Sadie vineyard – the (mostly) very old mixed-varietal Swartland vines producing ‘T Voetpad  – suffered terribly in the drought years. In 2019, to help the exhausted vines, the whole modest grape production was dropped, and no wine was made. Expensive and laborious restoration, with some interplanting, followed; the vineyard is reviving and small volumes of wine have been made from it. But without extraordinary, expensive commitment, it would have been the end of that wine. An interplanting programme continues on, where possible, all the Sadie-managed vineyards, focusing on different vineyards in turn – and it will do so on the youthful home vineyards too, if disease or virus strikes a vine necessitating its removal.

The older vineyards making grand wines have mostly received excellent viticultural attention in recent years; many but not all needed restoration to some degree, many had previously been pushed to crop heavily. It happened, for example, at the very old Wellington vineyard that gives the grapes for Leeu Passant’s Cinsault, where Rosa Kruger and the Mullineuxs worked hard at revitalising the vineyard, including some interplanting in the gaps. Andrea pointed out to me that the challenge with interplanting is always root-development, given competition from neighbouring vines; the type of soil there made interplanting easier.

That vineyard is, of course, registered as a Heritage Vineyard by SAWIS and the Old Vine Project, allowing the bottle seal which gives the date of the original planting. One of the rules is that not more than 15% of such a vineyard can be interplanted with new vines. Viticulturist Rosa Kruger tells me that in her experience farmers are not continuously interplanting – they might perhaps do it once or twice, with a number of vines, in a vineyard’s lifetime. But not more than a total of 15% of the vineyard if it is to maintain its status as a registered Heritage Vineyard.

This inevitably means that sustainability of a vineyard is impossible and it will eventually need to be replaced in its entirety. The vineyard will survive through a total replanting, but it will be another 35 years before it will qualify for another Heritage Vineyard seal – and the currently celebrated old-vines label and wine will disappear.

Average age of the vines in a vineyard is what counts in Europe. If you look up famous vineyards (I’ve just tried doing it with Romanée-Conti in Burgundy, for example), you will usually be told the average age of the vines, and it’s hard to find any mention of the first planting – especially, of course, when the vineyard has been in more-or-less continuous production for centuries. There is no way that Romanée-Conti could ever afford to be without production, so there must be a rigorous replanting/interplanting programme to ensure continuity.

South Africa is unique in having the Heritage Vineyard seal and proudly displaying the planting date of a vineyard on a bottle of wine. It is indeed intuitively a pleasing and special thing. But I wonder if there shouldn’t also be an attempt to create another, equally prestigious recognition, involving the (substantial) average age of a vineyard, allowing for progressive replanting/interplanting and taking into account vines of all ages.

• Tim James is one of South Africa’s leading wine commentators, contributing to various local and international wine publications. His book Wines of South Africa – Tradition and Revolution appeared in 2013.