Conservatoire de Vignes Anciennes
A couple of years ago, 1.5 hectares of steep vines in Marchampt, Beaujolais were on the market, going some months without an interested buyer. The sloping parcels are home to almost 140 cultivars of vitis vinifera, and had been a conservatory for the grapes of Beaujolais for 50 years. Many forgotten and ancient varieties grow here, including several Lambrusques, wild ancestors to the cultivated vine. It was a unique opportunity for Cyril and Karine Alonso to work with old, ungrafted vines and explore the antique characteristics of overlooked clones and varieties. Now installed in Marchampt, the family hope to establish a Noah's Ark of vines and highlight unsung varieties that for whatever reason have not made the cut in the modern commercial vineyard. Their wines are truly unique, documenting a history of wine in the region outside the world of auction houses and 5 figure sums. They echo the world from which the Beaujolais of today has emerged, re-examining expressions in wine deemed unworthy by historical tastes or, perhaps more often, viticultural practicality. An enchanting, telluric power is woven through the wines and sensitive handling in the cellar allows them a clear, evocative voice. The grapes are harvested by family (one plot has 31 varieties of Gamay) and most often end up coming together in blended wines. The steep parcels are on hard granite, with grasses and weeds between vines providing a shallow humus that nourishes the vines. With twenty years experience as a negociant winemaker, this is the start of a new chapter for Cyril, Karine and the family. They have established a self sufficient living system in Marchampt, as dependent on the land as possible, making small releases of these wonderfully intriguing, esoteric wines. Across the valley from his vines, Cyril's cellar is as lo fi as it gets. A small press, which all the grapes of his tiny 7,000 bottle annual production pass through, sits right inside the entrance followed by a handful of small fibre vats. At the back of the cellar sit four eggs, half buried in gravel and this is where the fermentations take place. The cellar looks out onto dense biotope, protected wooded areas that seem to crown the hilltops along the undulating countryside. The parcels themselves are on steep and shallow granite soils with a southerly and easterly exposure. They don't really stand out, until you notice the vines growing in the midst of wild mint, thyme flowers and grasses. There are many, many varieties growing on this hectare and a half, in fact 108 and counting (not including the lambrusque vines growing on the verges of the cellar itself). As we walk, Cyril claps to alert the snakes to our presence, stopping briefly for some impromptu pruning or to point out a particularly rare or unusual variety. The red leaves belong to pinot fin, and the young vine is the Chardonnay Rosé, yet to be old enough to yield grapes for wine. A veteran winemaker with a mischievous sense of humour, Cyril has meticulously mapped the vines and where they grow.