Where there’s light, there’s wine: illuminating the winemaking craft

From north to south, season to season, the lives of our wineries are punctuated by light.

Light is the foundation upon which the work of a winemaker is built. Each day begins and ends under the influence of light, guiding not only the growth of the vines but also the way they are nurtured. Our teams adapt their practices in response to the continuous changes that characterise seasons, climates, and places themselves. 

From the windswept plains of Chile to the gentle hills of Burgundy, the expansive plateaus of China, and the lofty summits of Argentina, does light ever fall the same way twice? And how does it shape not just vines and their cultivation, but also the quality of the grapes and the distinctive aromas we associate with them?

We invite you to explore our vineyards and delve into the complex relationship between light and grape — a force that shapes the character of each and every wine. On this journey, you’ll discover that everything is a question of equilibrium. 

Two hemispheres, infinite luminosities   

Argentina stretches skyward in the Mendozan highlands, and the vines — which flourish at 1300 metres above sea level — converse with the stars above. At this altitude, light is both pure and crisp, thanks to cooler temperatures. This unique environment slows the growth of the vines, and the unhurried process of maturation lends the grape a thicker skin. The result is a rich palette of flavours in the extracted vintage. 

‘The light here brightens but never burns. At this altitude, it delays maturation and lends the wines an incredible freshness.’

Olivier Trégoat, Technical Director at Domaines Barons de Rothschild Lafite, explains: ‘The light here brightens but never burns. At this altitude, it delays maturation and lends the wines an incredible freshness.’ The acquisition of the San Pablo vineyard in 2021 was a testament to the significance of this extraordinary luminosity. Sitting at 1350 metres above sea level, 500 metres above Bodegas CARO’s historic plots, this vineyard has been closely studied to understand how altitude shapes the wines produced here.

It’s this singular environment that gives the Malbec its prismatic qualities: at once bright and dense; deep and expressive. In a word, Argentine. Little wonder Mendoza is known as la tierra del sol y del been vino — ‘the land of sun and good wine’. 

Across the Andes in Chile, sunlight is tempered by the cool whisper of the Pacific. Cooler temperatures, particularly at night, further slow the vine’s cycle. Here, the period between ripening — when the grapes swell and blush — and harvest is longer than elsewhere. The grapes here never fail to enhance the complex aromas of our Cabernet Sauvignon.

‘To produce a good Chablis requires a delicate balance’

In Burgundy, where the sun can often seem more reserved, light has a softer, more fleeting quality. ‘Here, light takes its time: it slips through clouds, soft and enveloping,’ in the words of François Ménin, Vineyard Manager at Domaine William Fèvre. ‘To produce a good Chablis requires a delicate balance: just enough rain, just enough heat, a moderate temperature, ideally between 24 and 26°C. Conditions that are too humid, or too hot, can affect not only the vine’s growth, but also the quality of the grapes and, at the end of the day, the wine.’

François Ménin knows that light is not something to be fought against but rather harmonised with. In the winter, when there’s less light and the cold reigns, the team at William Fèvre looks after the vineyard’s infrastructure, repairing the trellis wiring and pickets that support the vines. They also collect grafts to replace plants that succumb to frost, with an eye to maintaining the vineyard’s density.

In China, winters can be exceptionally harsh. Traditionally, vines here are buried to protect them from the cold. Except, of course, in Domaine de Long Dai, where Shandong province’s temperate climate spares the local vines from such a fate. 

Changing seasons, changing operations 

Light orchestrates the symphony of a winemaker’s life.  

No matter the hemisphere, summer days mean an early start: ‘Six in the morning, to avoid the overwhelming heat that strikes at midday,’ Olivier Trégoat explains. 

In France, as in Chile and in Argentina, the team is out amongst the vines by sunrise. The early hours are dedicated to essential work, like relevage and disbudding, when temperatures are still merciful. The objective is to take advantage of these cooler hours. Once the sun reaches its zenith, the heat often becomes difficult to bear. Winegrowers call it a day at around 2 p.m., sparing themselves from the blazing heat, leaving the vines in peace. 

The rhythm changes in the winter: ‘We start around 8 a.m., which is a late morning compared to summer,’ jokes François Ménin. The light is weaker during winter days, and the work acclimates to it. The vines, dormant for the season, require a different kind of care. Pruning becomes the central task, demanding diligence and regularity in spades — each gesture shapes the season to come. Other winter undertakings include ploughing the soil to facilitate irrigation, and spreading compost and fertilisers to enrich the soil with essential nutrients. Cut vine shoots are macerated and returned to the earth, ensuring a steady supply of organic material. The metronome slows down, the winegrower’s evenings lengthen in anticipation of light’s inevitable return. 

Reading the room: grapes underground 

If toiling under the midday sun is one thing, labouring in the shadows of the cellar is quite another. Olivier Trégoat can find the humour in it: ‘In the summer, you can tell who works in the vineyards from the farmer’s tan, whereas the cellar masters stay cool in the shade.’ The omnipresent outdoor light demands that winegrowers acclimate; a stark contrast to the cool, controlled darkness of the wine cellar.

Cellars are sanctuaries bathed in only the most muted light, stripped down to the essential in order not to disturb the barrels in all their quietude.  ‘Working in the cellars is far more pleasant in the summer,’ says Trégoat, ‘where air conditioning keeps the wines at around 14 to 15°C.’ In the winter, when the vineyards take on a more hostile tone and workers are exposed to the frigid cold, the cellars remain a welcoming and stable refuge for the craftsmen who work there. 

Here, light and shadow co-habitate and divide their labour between vine and cellar, a continuum upon which each and every winegrower occupies a space of expertise. Light and its cadences condition more than just daily activities. Its domain extends to influencing the decisions and the states of mind of each and every team member, in a delicate balance between nature and human knowledge. 

Through a glass, brightly

All these variations of light ultimately converge on a singular goal: the wine.

And what would wine be without light?

Galileo is known to have said that ‘wine is sunlight, held together by water.’

It’s a phrase that resonates with François Ménin and Olivier Trégoat. ‘When we drink wine, we are sipping the light that nourished the vine itself,’ Trégoat explains. ‘Perhaps it even makes us a little more luminous,’ he adds, a glimmer in his eye. Each bottle holds something of this solar energy, transformed into aromas, textures, and memories of a year past.  

‘Wine is sunlight, held together by water.’

For François Ménin, winemaking is like alchemy. ‘Light, heat, variety, everything conspires to create something unique. Wine is the sun made tangible; it’s the story of a year sealed in a bottle.’

In Latin America, the sun lends its wines an intense, buttery luminosity, while in Burgundy, the subtler light creates vintages that speak in whispers. 

Winegrowers are the guardians of all of this light. They seek it out, measure it, capture it, adapt to it and occasionally shield us from it, all with an eye to offering us a drop or two of light in every glass.