THE WORLD THROUGH A WINE GLASS
A glass of wine has the ethereal, magical quality of calling to mind the “somewhereness” of a certain place on earth. If you were sipping a Sangiovese and you let your imagination wander away, it could evoke the green curves of Tuscany’s hills, the sun’s gold glinting off the wires to which tendrils of vines cling.
A Grenache-Mourvedre-Syrah blend would no doubt conjure up a village in the South of France – Roussillon, perhaps? Poised precariously upon a hillside in layers of terrace, it would be daubed with hues of chalky ocher, sun-tanned saffron, smoky sienna, mustard yellow and burnt brick. Your nose would scent the wispy wafting of lavender set against a startlingly blue Provençal sky, which, at sunset, would change its garb again and again like a fickle woman. Now, a filmy wrap of Lilac-Blue, then an iridescent stole of Peachy-Gold; now a chiffony wrap of Fuschia, then a flimsy veil of Flame-Red georgette! Next, a translucent mantle, the color of bruised blueberries. And then – running a little late for its sexy nocturnal tryst – a velvety cape of the deepest shade of Midnight, speckled with glittering diamanté.
Put your glass to your ear, and you might even hear the faint howl of the icy-fingered Le Mistral, sometimes blessing the land, sometimes threatening to flatten the vines with its mean gusts – but always challenging them to struggle and stress, so the result might only be character of unquestionable integrity.
Could one really discern the distinctive taste of the Missoula floods in a glass of Washington Red, and be transported to the Ice Age, as Northwest vintners loftily claim? Or sip the misty beauty of Sonoma’s winding wine trails, peppered with a multitude of wayside flowers, its creeks giggling to the gossip of birds? I am going too far, you think.
Apparently not. A journeyed palate could scan the geographical characteristics of a wine within the space of a wineglass. That palate would guess the grape variety, based on the typicity of the grape (the bell pepper notes of a cool-climate Cabernet Sauvignon, or the herbaceous leafy character of a Cabernet Franc, if you’ll pardon my viticultural racism), and also its origin (Tempranillo, usually from Spain). Not to mention its vintage amongst other things (it was a warm summer).
It’s an educated guess that often employs the process of elimination. To put it in broad terms, “It isn’t a Pinot Noir, because it’s too pale and thin a red, too muscular in body and too tannic on the tongue”. Or, “It’s reminiscent of coconut, so it will likely be a New World wine from Australia, New Zealand, or the Americas.” And then, “It can’t be from Australia because it’s too rustic and chewy with dark berries and spices… (and so on and so forth) so it must be a Petite Sirah from California.”
So the next time you raise a glass of wine, think of all that travel that lies ahead – at the very least, in your own imagination.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Monday, July 27, 2009
MAX ON SPACE & GEOGRAPHY
GEOGRAPHY ON THE TONGUE
The spaces of geography have a funny way of making their way into cities - with different accents. In New York City, for instance, there are three predominant accents. 1) The uptown accent, 2) The Manhattan or the “normal” accent, and 3) The regional Brooklyn-Staten Island accent. The further north you go, usually anywhere past 96th street, you hear the real street slang. People drop their “R’s” and words like “here” turn in to “heah”, and “over” turn into “ova.” There’s a very distinct New York street accent that is really found in, well, found in the hood.
So now, traveling down toward the middle – There is the “normal” accent. “Normal” being what we perceive to be the way the English language should be spoken. We pronounce our all of our consonants and vowels and we say, “coffee,” “orange,” or “forget about it.” The words come out with no deviation from the way they are supposed to be pronounced.
Now, once you start heading south into Brooklyn, the stereotypical New York accent runs rampant. “Coffee” is turned into “Caw-fee.” “Orange” is turned into, “Ah-ringe.” The phrase, “forget about it,” turns into one giant mashed up word – “fuggetaboutit”. In Brooklyn, you don’t hear, “I’m going to call him later.” No, no, you hear, “I’m gonna cawl him lata.” Similar to the uptown accent, all the “R’s” are dropped off of all words and replaced with an “A.”
Different spaces in the geography of the city create these different accents. Despite living in Manhattan for barely a few months, you start to pick up on all of these little nuances, and you catch your self saying, “Whateva, I’ll cawl him lata,” without even realizing it.
[Max Kestenbaum, originally from Los Angeles, studies and plays in New York City.]
The spaces of geography have a funny way of making their way into cities - with different accents. In New York City, for instance, there are three predominant accents. 1) The uptown accent, 2) The Manhattan or the “normal” accent, and 3) The regional Brooklyn-Staten Island accent. The further north you go, usually anywhere past 96th street, you hear the real street slang. People drop their “R’s” and words like “here” turn in to “heah”, and “over” turn into “ova.” There’s a very distinct New York street accent that is really found in, well, found in the hood.
So now, traveling down toward the middle – There is the “normal” accent. “Normal” being what we perceive to be the way the English language should be spoken. We pronounce our all of our consonants and vowels and we say, “coffee,” “orange,” or “forget about it.” The words come out with no deviation from the way they are supposed to be pronounced.
Now, once you start heading south into Brooklyn, the stereotypical New York accent runs rampant. “Coffee” is turned into “Caw-fee.” “Orange” is turned into, “Ah-ringe.” The phrase, “forget about it,” turns into one giant mashed up word – “fuggetaboutit”. In Brooklyn, you don’t hear, “I’m going to call him later.” No, no, you hear, “I’m gonna cawl him lata.” Similar to the uptown accent, all the “R’s” are dropped off of all words and replaced with an “A.”
Different spaces in the geography of the city create these different accents. Despite living in Manhattan for barely a few months, you start to pick up on all of these little nuances, and you catch your self saying, “Whateva, I’ll cawl him lata,” without even realizing it.
[Max Kestenbaum, originally from Los Angeles, studies and plays in New York City.]
Friday, July 24, 2009
RO ON SPACE & GEOGRAPHY – 1
“THE SUN IS A VERY MAGIC FELLOW”
“November has tied me
to an old dead tree,
get word to April
to rescue me.”
How do the Spaces of Geography affect the cultures that live within them?
Perhaps we should ask the Grapes.
In spaces of increasing geographical latitude, grapes look to natural sources of light and warmth to ripen – just as people do for their happiness. The angle of the sun (also called “aspect”) is everything. If a certain slope is more exposed to sunlight and warmth than another, it is likely to produce far more vigorous vines – and far more qualitative wines.
When vines grow on South-facing slopes, the quality of the grape is said to be exemplary. Not too dissimilar to South-facing apartments in Manhattan, New York, where quality of life is also enhanced by this rather dear orientation.
In the Rhone region of France, the outstanding wines of Châteauneuf-du-Pape are outstanding because of the characteristic terrior; Pudding Stones or “Galets” soak up the Provencal sunshine during the day and hold on to the heat, to reflect it onto the grapes, long after the sun has left for an assignation with the other side of the earth. This helps the grapes ripen and the wines get concentrated in a peculiarly delicious way, accounting for the "outstandingness". In Germany’s prized Mosel-Saar-Ruwer wine region, the Riesling grape grows in Devonian Slate, which locks in the moisture and heat to radiate warmth to it at nightfall. In Bordeaux, it’s the gravel that does it.
In a manner alike, Northern Scandinavians resort to natural sources of light and warmth with an abundant use of candles – in their offices and during meetings as well – to fight Winter Seasonal Affective Disorder, an inexplicable “sadness” that creeps in with the onset of winter darkness.
Serotonin brain chemistry has long been known to change with changing seasons, suggesting why people tend to be less happy, with lower energy levels during winter’s bleaker days. Social, scientific and economic researchers have found that even stock returns are significantly related to the amount of daylight through the fall and winter – the shorter the day, the higher the aversion to risk, it seems. The influence of climate upon happiness, with climate variables such as rain, hours of sunshine, average temperature, and windiness are strongly linked to household costs, financial satisfaction, and general satisfaction.
It’s just as well, then, that Wine makes us so happy.
“November has tied me
to an old dead tree,
get word to April
to rescue me.”
How do the Spaces of Geography affect the cultures that live within them?
Perhaps we should ask the Grapes.
In spaces of increasing geographical latitude, grapes look to natural sources of light and warmth to ripen – just as people do for their happiness. The angle of the sun (also called “aspect”) is everything. If a certain slope is more exposed to sunlight and warmth than another, it is likely to produce far more vigorous vines – and far more qualitative wines.
When vines grow on South-facing slopes, the quality of the grape is said to be exemplary. Not too dissimilar to South-facing apartments in Manhattan, New York, where quality of life is also enhanced by this rather dear orientation.
In the Rhone region of France, the outstanding wines of Châteauneuf-du-Pape are outstanding because of the characteristic terrior; Pudding Stones or “Galets” soak up the Provencal sunshine during the day and hold on to the heat, to reflect it onto the grapes, long after the sun has left for an assignation with the other side of the earth. This helps the grapes ripen and the wines get concentrated in a peculiarly delicious way, accounting for the "outstandingness". In Germany’s prized Mosel-Saar-Ruwer wine region, the Riesling grape grows in Devonian Slate, which locks in the moisture and heat to radiate warmth to it at nightfall. In Bordeaux, it’s the gravel that does it.
In a manner alike, Northern Scandinavians resort to natural sources of light and warmth with an abundant use of candles – in their offices and during meetings as well – to fight Winter Seasonal Affective Disorder, an inexplicable “sadness” that creeps in with the onset of winter darkness.
Serotonin brain chemistry has long been known to change with changing seasons, suggesting why people tend to be less happy, with lower energy levels during winter’s bleaker days. Social, scientific and economic researchers have found that even stock returns are significantly related to the amount of daylight through the fall and winter – the shorter the day, the higher the aversion to risk, it seems. The influence of climate upon happiness, with climate variables such as rain, hours of sunshine, average temperature, and windiness are strongly linked to household costs, financial satisfaction, and general satisfaction.
It’s just as well, then, that Wine makes us so happy.
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