A rousing wind slaps the swollen belly of a beekeeper, and turns right to part a sea of wildflowers, exposing a narrow gravel path. In the distance, a velvet single-room schoolhouse looms. Inside, a heavy-set honeysuckle headmaster ripens a class of citrus as she reads about the politics of the petroleum trade. Outside, the wind continues to collide with the front door, crawling over the plush surface of the schoolhouse until it moves around the back to rest nowhere in sight.
Riesling is never easy to explain. We chaps have a deep respect for the varietal, and its consumption is often met with quiet—and sometimes surreal, as exhibited above—reflection. In fact, outside of great Pinot Noir or Nebbiolo, no other varietal can quite inspire us like Riesling does.
Of course, when the varietal is brought up one immediately thinks of Germany, and rightfully so. The country is responsible for a dizzying array of expressions, each based on its level of sweetness and specific geographical location. And although Germany is undoubtedly the spiritual home of the varietal, there are other regions—in this case, Alsace—that have brought the varietal up to resemble something all its own.
Charles Koehly’s 2002 Grand Cru Altenberg de Bergheim, is an exceptional introduction to the dramatic individuality of Riesling grown in Alsace. It’s bone-dry, and its acidity isn’t exactly inviting upon opening, but as it evolves in the glass the effect of 8 years in the bottle comes rushing to center stage, and that initial acidic mistral frames a complex core of honeysuckle headmasters, citrus pupils, velvet schoolhouses, and petroleum politics. It has a true arc—rising action, a motley climax, and an exuberant denouement.
Pair With:
Dorthea Tanning Eine Kleine Nachtmusik 1943Why: Another scene from the same wine.
Ottorino Respighi I Pini di Roma, 4th Movement: “I Pini della Via Appia” 1924
Respighi’s most famous work, “The Pines of Rome,” is a set of four symphonic poems that visualizes different scenes from within the city of Rome; each one uses pine trees as a centerpiece. In a musical world dominated by opera (the likes of Verdi, Rossini, and Puccini), this purely orchestral work manages to conjure up enough mental imagery to compete with opera’s obvious visual advantage.
Why: Mental imagery + Thundering climax. The fourth movement, “I Pini della Via Appia,” is introduced by a pulsating, slightly nervy rhythm, then slowly builds into an opulent, frenzied, and seemingly inexorable climax—a complete sensory journey in just 6 minutes of music.
A rousing wind slaps the swollen belly of a beekeeper, and turns right to part a sea of wildflowers, exposing a narrow gravel path. In the distance, a velvet single-room schoolhouse looms. Inside, a heavy-set honeysuckle headmaster ripens a class of citrus as she reads about the politics of the petroleum trade. Outside, the wind continues to collide with the front door, crawling over the plush surface of the schoolhouse until it moves around the back to rest nowhere in sight.
Riesling is never easy to explain. We chaps have a deep respect for the varietal, and its consumption is often met with quiet—and sometimes surreal, as exhibited above—reflection. In fact, outside of great Pinot Noir or Nebbiolo, no other varietal can quite inspire us like Riesling does.
Of course, when the varietal is brought up one immediately thinks of Germany, and rightfully so. The country is responsible for a dizzying array of expressions, each based on its level of sweetness and specific geographical location. And although Germany is undoubtedly the spiritual home of the varietal, there are other regions—in this case, Alsace—that have brought the varietal up to resemble something all its own.
Charles Koehly’s 2002 Grand Cru Altenberg de Bergheim, is an exceptional introduction to the dramatic individuality of Riesling grown in Alsace. It’s bone-dry, and its acidity isn’t exactly inviting upon opening, but as it evolves in the glass the effect of 8 years in the bottle comes rushing to center stage, and that initial acidic mistral frames a complex core of honeysuckle headmasters, citrus pupils, velvet schoolhouses, and petroleum politics. It has a true arc—rising action, a motley climax, and an exuberant denouement.
Pair With:
Dorthea Tanning Eine Kleine Nachtmusik 1943
Why: Another scene from the same wine.
Ottorino Respighi I Pini di Roma, 4th Movement: “I Pini della Via Appia” 1924
Respighi’s most famous work, “The Pines of Rome,” is a set of four symphonic poems that visualizes different scenes from within the city of Rome; each one uses pine trees as a centerpiece. In a musical world dominated by opera (the likes of Verdi, Rossini, and Puccini), this purely orchestral work manages to conjure up enough mental imagery to compete with opera’s obvious visual advantage.
Why: Mental imagery + Thundering climax. The fourth movement, “I Pini della Via Appia,” is introduced by a pulsating, slightly nervy rhythm, then slowly builds into an opulent, frenzied, and seemingly inexorable climax—a complete sensory journey in just 6 minutes of music.
