How did your project come about?
It was born out of a thirst for adventure and a change of scenery. At 45, I felt the need to expand my personal and imaginative horizons. Ever since childhood, I’ve always been fascinated by the New World, a land of endless possibilities! So why Chile? It was a pure coincidence—or rather, a series of encounters: first with photographer Julio Donoso, then with Alvaro Yanes and Javier De la Fuente—encounters that blossomed into a strong friendship. And since, for the four of us, there is no great wine without a vibrant heart, friendship is, at Montsecano, at the heart of our wine!
How can one describe Montescano?
It is a magical hill that we have christened our “sacred hill.” It is situated on the heights of the Casablanca Valley, near the legendary port of Valparaíso, a mere 10 km as the seagull flies from the Pacific Ocean. It is hidden from the view of passersby, difficult to access, and thus perfectly preserved from the vicissitudes of the modern world. It is still surrounded by native trees and shrubs where hundreds of birds nest, and biodiversity is no empty phrase here. The vines were planted on small terraces carved into the hillside; they are cultivated biodynamically, and the work is done by hand or with horses. The vines grow ungrafted, free from their rootstock. For me, it is a true return to the roots of viticulture from before the phylloxera epidemic.
Why did you choose a purely artisanal approach on a small estate when the trend there is toward large estates?
Because, for us, being a winemaker means being an artist who listens to the land. Only a small-scale operation allows for this special connection, which is essential to any authentic wine with character.
What challenges have you faced?
Financial challenges above all, because starting a vineyard from scratch requires a very significant investment. In Chile, small businesses are virtually nonexistent, and the banking system has no provisions for financing them. For the same reasons, we faced immense difficulties in finding local suppliers because, unlike in Europe, there are no small service providers for the wine industry; large estates have integrated all these ancillary trades. We must also mention the very low yields due to drought and the preference for deep root systems over immediate yield, which obviously does not make the financial management of such a project any easier. But establishing a vineyard of excellence is completely outside the realm of modern financial imperatives, isn’t it?
What are the key differences between Europe and Chile?
I’ll highlight the differences between Alsace and the Casablanca Valley, as those are my points of reference. I’m thinking mainly of the climate: Montsecano has a Mediterranean climate with rain only in winter and dry conditions the rest of the year. As a result, irrigation is necessary, at least until the root system is established deep in the soil, but on the other hand, there is no mildew or botrytis, and the harvest takes place without any weather-related stress.
There’s a lot of talk about “terroir” in Old World vineyards. What about Chile?
Terroir is certainly present, but it almost never comes through because of cultivation practices based on intensive irrigation, which effectively results in “soil-less” viticulture disconnected from its terroir. Hence the caricatured flavor profile of Chilean wines, veritable “fruity bombs” that very quickly tire the palate. For me, most Chilean wines are unfinished. They are solar wines cut off from their earthly roots; they have, so to speak, no foundation. At Montsecano, our entire work consists precisely of rebalancing the upward forces of light and the grounding forces of gravity, so that one can taste the deep salinity as much as the celestial fire. In Chile, the sky is almost too powerful, thanks to the ozone hole. We must therefore counterbalance this radiant, almost blinding light with an equivalent root extraction. There, that is the key to the Terroir vault.
Any anecdotes?
Of the countless anecdotes that punctuate such an adventure, I’ll highlight the incredible story of the 2009 vintage, which initially became a treat for the birds. There are hundreds of them there, and since they’re true connoisseurs, they particularly enjoy the taste of Montsecano grapes! But that’s not the story. Since our winery hadn’t been built yet in 2009—it wasn’t completed until the 2010 harvest—we vinified the grapes 600 kilometers to the south at our friend Louis-Antoine Luiyt’s place in Cauquenes. That year we produced 7 barrels of wine, and the aging was proceeding smoothly in Louis-Antoine’s cellar until the terrible earthquake of February 27, 2010, measuring 8.8 on the Richter scale, which caused immense damage in Cauquenes and completely destroyed Louis-Antoine’s cellar. The roof and framework of the winery had collapsed, the vats were split open, the wine had spilled—it was an apocalyptic scene! It took several weeks to clear the debris and salvage what could still be saved. And then, miraculously, beneath the rubble in an indescribable mess, our seven barrels—whose stack had collapsed—appeared full and unharmed! We transported them to Casablanca, where Pablo Morande generously offered us hospitality… And it was in Casablanca that they quietly finished aging and were bottled in June 2010. In Europe, we sometimes speak of a vintage saved from the waters. Montsecano 2009, however, is a vintage saved from the earth, from one of the most terrible earthquakes in Chile’s history!