Thursday, March 17 2011
Trust Me, I'm a Wine Writer

I've been thinking a lot about wine criticism over the last while. I began feeling doubts about it when I began disagreeing with what seemed to be the prevailing trend in wine appreciation and criticism, for big, ripe 'fruit-bombs'. By the time I had decided that Robert Parker was the devil incarnate and that the magazine's name was better summed up as, 'The Wine Dictator', I was starting to feel like I'd been duped.
Moreover I felt angry because I'd been a willing participant in my own duping, drinking up everything critics said and taking their pronouncements as gospel. And to angry, you can add 'embarrassed': I'm a smart guy (according to me), yet I'd been buying and drinking wine I eventually realised I wasn't really enjoying. What an idiot.
Surprisingly comfortable, once you get used to it.So where did I go so wrong? Just human, it turns out. When I was a new wine drinker I wanted an authority to quote and emulate, to validate my shaky opinions and shore up the enormous gaps in my knowledge. When I was overwhelmed by the Crus of Burgundy, there was James Suckling to make me feel better. If California cult wines were beyond me, Matt Kramer gave me fodder for conversation in the wine store. Should I be intimidated by Bordeaux, I could pull down Parker's ox-stunner of a tome and bone up on the Chateaux I would probably never see, much less taste.
And so it goes. One thing all of these critics had in common was that if I believed what they wrote, they made money, mostly from my buying their magazines and books. That means they had to make sure that I believed and kept believing in what they wrote. Straightforward enough: they were selling me criticism and you don't buy what you don't believe. But for that to be a fair exchange, every single thing they said had to be a) true, and b) useful
The true/useful axis interests me. The critics who provided the most well-articulated and researched stuff were the ones who either worked in the trade full-time, or had been pursuing wine writing as an avocation for a long period of time. But there's a hitch: the longer you spend in the trade, the more people you know, and the less likely you are to savage them with a bad review of their products. Also, if you have a long-term relationship with a winery, one that generates free trips, limo rides and a few goodies, it's much easier to let them off the hook for the occasional wine that doesn't review well.
Am I imputing that some critics give reviews based on personal interests or perhaps for financial concerns? Of course I am. Am I pointing fingers and naming names? Under advice from my law firm, Libel, Slander and Regret, no I am not. But it would be tremendously naive to say that it didn't ever happen. So is the answer then to seek out newcomers, fresh voices with fresh ideas and low levels of contamination?
For the most part, probably not. The problem with the Internet is that there's no barrier to entry. Any jerk can up and get himself a blog (viz yours truly) and by virtue of calling it a 'Wine Blog' (ahem) instantly take on the mantel of a wine expert (man, I should stop digging). I skim an awful lot of blogs about wine and an overwhelming number of them are unsatisfying, with issues ranging from plain old poor writing to blogs that do no research and have little experience with the wines they are discussing. There are some diamonds in the rough, and as the old saying goes, where there's muck, there's brass, but the grains of salt necessary to winnow through useful information are killing my sodium intake.
That leaves us with no middle ground: old grumpy critics who may have a buttered side, or brash young goofballs who don't know where the bodies are buried, much less what to serve them with. It's a classic case of Sturgeon's Revelation ('90% of everything is crap') in action. For the most part, I'm content to let it lie.
Okay, that's the worst lie I've ever told in this blog. Far from letting it lie, it drives me crazy. And the discussion never goes away. It popped up again recently with Steve Heimoff pulling out a discussion of epistemology and the relative worth of wine writing.
It takes a long time to develop, and an even longer time to develop a palate that can taste wine and say intelligent things about it. Now, I know that wine reviewing isn’t a science, like meteorology. It’s more of an art or craft. But the validity of a person’s opinions about wine is directly related to the amount of time and effort that person has put into the study of wine, which includes reading, traveling, learning from others and extensive tasting.
Can't disagree with that. It was a decade before I could start writing about wine effectively, but then I've always been a little slow. He goes on:
There’s been a lot of debate over whether the end of an era has arrived where older critics have been replaced by a new, democratic wave of wine enthusiasts who are tired of being dictated to by the same clique of power-hungry elitists that have dominated the wine world for decades.
I won't take sole credit, but I said almost exactly that directly to Steve at the last Wine Blogger's Conference. While I don't actually think the elitists are specifically power-hungry, it's not like they're eager to have their livelihood or relative prestige eroded by a rising tide of free-thinking wine enthusiasts with no barriers to entry to publishing their opinions.
And I'm not eager for that scenario, either. I write technical winemaking stuff for a living, including manuals, how-to's, FAQ's, training seminars, et cetera. Some days I feel like I'm pushing back against a rising tide of random people who put out poorly conceived, factually incorrect materials at a rate I can barely comprehend, much less keep up with. It took me two decades of work to be the guy responsible for the success of the consumer winemaking products at Winexpert, and it's hard work every day to stay sharp and keep learning to make sure I'm not leading people astray. So I feel that pain.
Steve continues:
But before anybody claims that professional Baby Boomer critics, who’ve been at it for a long time, have no more right to their opinions than Joe Blow from Kokomo, remember that you may be right from a philosophical, humane, political and democratic point of view. But epistemologically speaking, you’re dead wrong. Expertise still matters.
And here is where we part ways. This is a form of logical fallacy, argumentum ad verecundiam, argument to respect. Because most of us trust people with credentials and acknowledged expertise, we tend to roll up our brains and let this pass, never mind that professional baby-boomer critics are not infallible just because they are old and experienced. Unless Steve is actually claiming some sort of papal infallability with regards to his opinions (kidding Steve, I'm sure the Church doesn't give those out, and if they did, Parker would have three).
It's also a fallacy of hasty generalisation. 100% of professional wine critics are not better writers or more relevant commentators than 100% of brash new internet wine dweebs. Epistemolgically speaking, this paragraph is dead wrong. For me, what matters most about the wine writing I follow is its relevance to my interests. I can plow through lousy writing for good info, and I can read wine reviews that I disagree with profoundly, when it's well-defended and thoughtful and best of all, when it's well-written. Established critics and authorities don't have a monopoly on being relevant to every reader, every time.
From left: Tom Wark, Steve Heimoff, and Ken Payton. While not part of this blog entry, Ken is a heckuva nice guy.While I was writing this, two things came up. First, Tom Wark weighed in. This gave me a serious case of the deja voodoo, because Tom is another guy I was discussing this with at the bloggers conference. He probably wouldn't remember, given that he's a very popular guy much in demand for tete a tete discussions. No, I take that back: I was the tall, 300 pound goofball in the kilt, so he may recall me . . . Tom responded to Steve's blog:
It's important to note, too, that a writer with more popularity may not even be a good wine writer or wine reporter. I can't tell you how many times I've seen a wine issue reported on in a very well-read publication where the reporting was objectively incorrect, sloppy or otherwise useless. Nonetheless, this writer ranks as important because of the popularity of their outlet and their voice based on the number of readers.
Boy howdy, can I agree with that. But that's aside from Tom's summation.
It is much more likely that one writing in an independent wine blog would have great authority. And this is what Steve Heimoff was referring to when he wrote about the relative validity of an writers opinion. The reader will surely find most value from by reading writers with greater authority, be they reading the writer's reports or reviews. And it also should be noted that no matter how popular or influential a writer or reporter is, the personal value to the reader will always be greater based on the authority of the writer, not based on their influence or popularity. (emphasis mine)
It pays to read the whole article, not least because Tom's a keen thinker about wine as a business and social media as a tool. But I can't agree. The value to the reader is greatest based on the relevance to their interests. The idea that we must give credence to people based on their assumed authority only makes sense if you feel that readers lack both the critical faculties to analyse the writing and any semblance of knowledge of the subject.
I ain't buying it. You shouldn't either. In theory I'm the world's single greatest authority on consumer produced wine (leave aside for a moment that I'm also the only one in the world who does what I do). If I told you that making wine from one of my products would make you taller, better looking and able to leap over tall buildings while subsisting on a diet of sunshine and distilled water, should you believe me? Heck no, I'm not right 100% of the time, and you'd use your critical faculties and personal knowledge to observe that I was probably out of my mind, authority or not.
I was feeling a little out of the wilderness on this whole subject. On the one hand, I read and enjoy both of Steve's defined subsets of wine writers, old and respected and young and brash. On the other, I have observed that both are equally full of hooey at roughly the same frequency. And while I don't agree with Steve's opinion, I'm not with the militant bloggers who think by virtue of having a blog they have the right to have their opinions respected automatically. Really, I don't agree with anybody, so who would possibly agree with me?
Hosemaster of Wine, that's who.
Important safety tip: the link Hosemaster's blog takes you away from Tim's Blog. His writing is not family-friendly and images may be graphic. As one observer noted, "...this controversial blog is incredibly humorous but requires an acceptance of the author's scatologically oriented sense of fun." As another said, "I must say you are an idiot. I've never liked you. I have no idea why people find you funny."
The Hosemaster's Blog (did you read the warning above?) skewered everyone in the wine trade. His style and satire are quite pungent to the uninitiated, but from my view inside the business I could hardly read his posts without crying with laughter, even when it made me cringe. The best thing about him was that he only ever roasted people from the wine business perspective, lampooning giants and mocking puffed up pretentions like a master comedian. He hung up his blog, but was recently interviewed by Samantha Sans Dosage. Note that Hosemaster (actually a Sommelier from Sonoma named Ron Washam) doesn't dial it down very much for the interview.
Name 2 wine writers whose work makes sense to you.
There is no one currently writing who can carry Gerald Asher’s luggage. Whereas a PR guy like Tom Wark repeatedly, and delusionally, says that this is the Golden Age of wine writing . . . I contend that very little being written now will be referenced even ten years from now, when I’ll be retiring for the 700th time.
There’s journalism, and there’s wine writing; just like there’s literature and there’s opinion pages. There are wonderful journalists I can read--Charlie Olken, Steve Heimoff, Jancis “Here’s to you Mrs.” Robinson, and the guy who writes the Trader Joe’s newsletter. But Gerald Asher writes literature about wine. This is a rare gift.
I'm with him on Asher, but I'd throw in Roy Andries De Groot, partly out of sentimentality, and partly because nobody ever wrote as good a book as In Search of the Perfect Meal. My gut tells me that he's spot-on about ten years from now. With immediacy we seem to lose timelessness, and immediacy is all the rage. The journalists he mentions (including Steve) are very much worth reading, but that doesn't mean you should ignore other sources of opinion and insight, nor give them credence because they're new and 'fresh', no more than you should give credence to someone just because they're old and experienced.
So where does that leave me? Everybody is wrong, nobody is right, except don't trust me because I'm not right either, and the person whose opinion most closely coincides with mine is no doubt the most potty-mouthed writer ever to commit wine commentary on the internet, not that he'd be happy to know I thought that way. All in a day's work.
I'd suggest reading the whole Hosemaster interview (and reading Samantha's blog regularly--I find it relevant to my interests). Washam is actually a very thoughtful satirical commentator. And he throws in some excellent advice:
What one piece of advice would you give wine bloggers?
Spend more time in the real world. Step away from the computer, embrace your life, it’s slipping through your fingers while you spend it regurgitating uninspired prose and borrowed thoughts. No one will miss your blog.
That's what I'm going to do--at least until my next blog entry, because who knows, someone might miss me.
| Posted by Mr. Trustworthy AT 1:46PM | 9 Comments | Post A Comment |


Comments
bent
Posted 1 year ago
I have had great wines at 100 bucks a bottle, and many many good wines at 10-15 bucks a bottle, and i talked to wine makers who have said that they couldn't sell a good wine until they jacked up the price to over 30 bucks.
How does one write articulately let alone accurately about wine? While science might be a framework for constructing a decent wine, science is out the door when it comes to crafting a wine's 'expression'. I would hesitate to call it art, but would certainly call it a craft.
Back in the days when I was a 2-bit music reviewer, I experienced a certain numbness after going through the 5th or 6th crate of records. It all started sounding the same. So I responded to novelty, and very rarely to genius, and I missed some very good bands.
I wonder, too, for the wine reviewer, if after teh 12 or 13th bottle of the day has been uncorked and fumes not unlike a urinal are coming off that spit bucket, if it just all tastes the same and you desperately reach for adjectives and novelty to describe something that tastes like a Ludins cough drop.
Not every wine writer can be Lester Bangs, and sadly, Tim, I think you are cornering that Market. Parker was Greil Marcus, to stretch the metaphor. Maybe, if I get the stones to do it, I will log back onto the Wine Spectator forum and start responding to every stodgy stiff-collared forum post wiht a John Lydonesque sneer, putting a boot to the system, while screaming for a corkless revolution.
Eh. That was a nice fantasy for a minute. Best analogy I can come up with for the cult of wine, is that its the very same cult for cannibus. We love our paraphernalia and we love our obscure blends. It's just so.
A question to you, my fine furry wine blogger: Where is the Richard Brautigan of wine writing? It's the verdant smell of sun cooked loamy earth. It's that opaque garnet purple catching sun in a glass, its the head-popping scent of violets and poo that truly seduce a drinker, not the points.
Tim
Posted 1 year ago
First things first: Dude, you mentioned me in the same sentence as Lester Bangs? Even in my wildest, most puffed up moments of pomposity I'd never be deluded enough to think I could carry Bangs' typewriter.
But thanks anyway, ya big lug. I love you too.
You're asking the wrong guy about writing accurately about wine. I'm a delusional hack stringing together inchoate lifestyle marginalia who rarely reviews wine in a blog named timswineblog dot com. But of course, it was a rhetorical question: you can't actually write accurately about wine, only articulately, because we're all in Plato's cave, drinking the shadow of the wine projected on the wall of our perceptions.
And accuracy is mostly over-rated. Like you say, science can give you accuracy, but it can't capture the chaotic poetry that makes a really great wine because wine isn't a complex chemical compound. It's a living beverage. So I'd prefer some evocative poetry over clinically accurate description because at least it would make me feel something about the wine.
When we're doing formulations and blending I often taste dozens of wines in a day. Most people would think it a pretty fun work day (and it beats the heck out of operating an idiot stick and most of the other jobs [manual labour] I'm qualified for) but it's very hard work, and you are absolutely correct: even if the last wine I tasted that day was the best wine I'd ever had, I'd be hard pressed to finish a glass, much less say anything lyrical about it.
Parker as Greil Marcus . . . I have little respect for Parker, so while that might be accurate in terms his influence and scope, I think Parker is the loser in the comparison. But Brautigan . . . Wine Drinking In America? I don't think there can be a Brautigan of wine, or another Brautigan at all.
I think Hosemaster might be the PJ O'Rourke of wine, back before O'Rourke sold his soul, when he was still hysterically funny and caustic. Too bad he keeps quitting.
You know who we really need? The China Mieville of wine writing, or maybe the Jack Womack, someone who knows how to write about normal things behaving in an internally consistent yet utterly surreal way. It might not be any great shakes as criticism, but at least I could stay awake while I was reading it.
If you do succumb to the urge to review wine, do me a guest blog. I'd love to hear your voice cussing out a clumsy vintage, or searching for the right word for a great one.
Ian Welsh
Posted 1 year ago
"But for that to be a fair exchange, every single thing they said had to be a) true, and b) useful"
Is there a single writer in the world, on any subject, who has written any substantial amount, for whom this is true.
That's really my point, Ian: the information exchange is always in some way unequal, depending on either the experience or the bias of the writer. See Sturgeon's Revelation for a succinct take on this issue.
Todd - VT Wine Media
Posted 1 year ago
Right on Tim...killing sacred cows and making wine from their blood.
While we may wish to consume great writing, just as we wish to consume great wine, it is just not always available to us, we have to sort through the offerings and see what works on our own tables.
As someone who has made wine from a number of your consumer products, I do wish you could promise they would make me taller...
Todd,
In my experience, it's the worship that makes the cows seem sacred, not any innate character or virtue of their own. Take away the worship and it's just another dull-eyed beast eating it's breakfast for lunch and belching methane and halitosis.
If my products actually worked to make users taller, I'd bang my head on satellites by now.
Ron Washam, HMW
Posted 1 year ago
Hi Tim,
HoseMaster here. Thanks for the kind words for my late, unlamented wine blog.
One of the things missing from the wine blogosphere is humor and a sense of scale. Most blogs are dull, poorly written, factually inaccurate and pretend that wine is more than a luxury that we attempt to attach status and class to when all we really want is to alter our consciousness. I attempted to provide a satirical perspective to the conversation in the two years I wrote HoseMaster of Wine. I, too, am a fan of Sturgeon's revelation, though he's 9% short of accuracy. I learned to love the crap if only because its pomposity and sanctimoniousness were unceasingly hilarious.
As I always say to Tom Wark, this is not the Golden Age of Wine Writing, it's the Golden Age of Wine Typing.
I'm not that thoughtful a commentator, just an opinionated one that tries to look at the wine world from a peculiar angle. Though bloggers truly should heed that last piece of advice you mention. I did, and I'm a better man for it.
Ron,
I can't tell you how pleased I am that you took the time to comment here. In it's way, your work is as important to the way I look at wine writing as the (early) work of National Lampoon was to magazine writing, or Thompson's work was to the rotten and degraded profession of journalism: until someone was clever enough to parody the nonsense passing for critical thinking about wine, I didn't really see it's flaws. Thanks to you I'm probably going to get punched at the wine bloggers conference coming up. Do you think I should get a 'poodles' T-shirt made?
Like it or don't, you're the prime candidate for the Juvenal of modern wine writing. It's a pity for people who love your work that you're smart enough to push away the keyboard and get some fresh air. Shame on you.
Joe Herrig
Posted 1 year ago
Ah, the guy in the kilt. Gotcha.
I agree with most all of your sentiments. There are a lot of "unprofessional" blogs out there. There is a surplus of bad information, typos, lack of research (on my blog alone, not tom mention the hundreds of others).
I think what many folks- particularly the "old guard" tend to dismiss is the fact that probably 90% of those blogs are simply folks having fun; hobbyists simply wanting to document their experiences, maybe hone the writing skills a bit, even just have a web-based journal of tasting notes for self-reference. It's anyone's prerogative to criticize these people; they've put it out into public domain... to the wolves, if you will. However, I don't got down to the park and start giving people hell at a pickup game of football for not running crisp routes. I bet Jerry Rice doesn't do that either (he was a better football player than I).
That being said, there is always a lunatic fringe- the loudest and brashest of the bunch- that causes anarchistic mischief. The small group of "democratization of wine" bloggers can tend to take things too seriously. lashing out and creating a need for criticism such as yours and HMW's (I love the Hosemaster, by the way).
Most of us... we're just looking to have a little fun, make a few friends, and maybe entertain the 2 or 3 people out in cyberspace who may think exactly the way we do.
In fact, I'm pretty sure I've offended a few people on both sides of the argument by how not-seriously I take it all. If they're reading, that is. Which they're probably not. :)
Nice job. Thoroughly enjoyed this post.
Joe,
Glad you enjoyed it. I'm with you 100%, and the football analogy is a good one. I'm a competitive powerlifter, but I don't go around yelling at people for not benchpressing 400 pounds because the fact that they're benching at all means they're engaged enough in the activity to work at it.Good for them!
Of course, when I see a pencil-necked geek trying to give bench advice where he has no expertise, I'm less generous, because man, you're embarrassing yourself.
Glad you're on the non-serious side. It's comfy over here, and we drink more wine with less friction and almost no hand-wringing.
If you're at the blogger's conference this year, I'll be there with my kilt on.
Trista
Posted 1 year ago
Forgive me for wanting to add two cents.
I find reading blogs fun because it's an ongoing conversation. Sometimes I even learn something new, and it's human and comforting to talk with people over similar interests. (Especially when you keep odd hours.)
Also reiterating the conversation metaphor; much of the time newcomers to a field need to learn its language. So reading both the old guard and the firebrands is useful and entertaining. I just wish more folks learn the language whilst keeping their BS detectors active. :)
I forgive you, and accept your double pennies.
I find reading blogs fun as well, but like your conversation metaphor, I want to learn something from them, be they old and established critics or new deal firebrands.
My BS detector is so active it triggers car alarms. Obviously I need to turn it down, or avoid a lot more BS.
Joe Herrig
Posted 1 year ago
yikes... I was half-joking about typos and bad grammar in my writing (typing), but I managed to nail a few there. Oh well, the comment field is less-formal.
See you in Charlottesville, sir.
It's Liberty Hall in the comments: you can spit on the mat and call into question the cat's parentage.
See you there. Bring drink tokens.
Bill Loftin
Posted 1 year ago
So I guess that you didn't like any of DeLoach's 1988 Zinfandels. There were two that were around 15.8% and the other ten were all over 18%.
There is a very good video floating around the web called Robert Parker's Bitch about the Parkerization of wine, specifically high alcohol wines. Randy Dunn is the star witness.
I am with you on this but my main bitch is over manipulation of wine such as Chalk Hill has been doing for years and now Murphy Goode is really into. Of course that is what leads to high alcohol as well.
Bill,
I was a wee shaver back then and don't recall DeLoach's Zin of that vintage. Certainly if it was an over-ripe and flabby sack of cr*p I would have probably drank it anyway, delighted to taste something so big.
If it was balanced despite the alcohol content, I might still have liked it anyway. Who can say, I'm smarter now than I used to be, but far less sure of myself. C'est la guerre.
I love Randy Dunn--he's earnestly trying to good work. I also saw a T-shirt at a wine festival that said, 'I am Robert Parker's Bitch'. Not sure I'd self-describe that way about anything.
I with you on the manipulation: I work in blending and formulation of wines part of the time and the magic additives out there can alter a wine tremendously, but to me it always tastes like chemistry set, and not like terroir or varietal.
Cheers,
Tim