(Manfred Klimek / WELT am SONNTAG / Photo: Klimek / animated pic: runwayml)
Roland Velich talks about wine as if it were a matter of geopolitics. It’s a bit baffling. But Velich, aged 63 and a winegrower in Großhöflein, a village just south of Eisenstadt, the capital of the Austrian Burgenland – and indeed world-renowned in the wine world for the magnificent Blaufränkisch wines from his Moric vineyard – is not one to be satisfied with national borders or designations of origin when thinking about wine and viticulture. For him, the real work begins with the question of what ‘origin’ actually means and whether it is still compatible with today’s national borders. ‘Our historical context is not Austria, but Hungary,’ says Velich. He’s quite right, though this doesn’t necessarily endear him to people in the Alpine republic.
Burgenland, where Velich comes from, is a young region: it has only been part of Austria since 1921, having been Western Hungary for centuries before that. A region without an established identity under its current name. A place that must constantly redefine itself. Velich does precisely that. And he does so with a gentle radicalism and a quiet voice that demands silence in the room.
His term for this wine-growing region is Pannonia. A vast region that stretches across borders: from Burgenland through Hungary to parts of Slovakia and Slovenia. United not by the national politics of what are today very different countries, but by climate, geology and cultural history. “When you stand on the slopes of Tokaj, or on the Leitha Mountains, or on the Spitzerberg in the Carnuntum region,” says Velich, “you sense: this is the same landscape.”
This is more than a poetic assertion. It is a working philosophy. For it is from this way of thinking that Velich’s projects in Hungary emerge – foremost among them ‘Hidden Treasures’. A name deliberately chosen in English to reflect a complex approach. Together with Hungarian winegrowers in Tokaj, Somló and on Lake Balaton, Velich seeks to uncover what he understands to be the essence of terroir: grape variety, soil, climate – without stylistic excess. The method is as simple as it is radical: precise work in the vineyard, minimal intervention in the cellar, spontaneous fermentation, and little sulphur. ‘We want to understand what is there. And that is only possible if you let it happen.’
‘Hidden Treasures’ is not a project in the sense that project managers typically understand the term. It is a process. Velich contributes his experience and a keen sense of terroir, whilst the local partners bring their knowledge of the vineyards. The fact that new styles emerge from this is part of the concept. At the heart of it all is Furmint – for Velich, one of Europe’s great grape varieties. Together with Blaufränkisch, it forms the foundation of a Pannonian identity: two varieties that do not merely illustrate their terroir, but have embodied it for what feels like an eternity.
Velich’s thinking is directed against a wine world that, for decades, has taken its cue from models far removed from the region: Bordeaux, Burgundy, international stylistic norms. “We’ve been copying for a hundred years,” he says: “Often well, sometimes very well – but rarely in our own right.” The price: a loss of self-identity. Velich is attempting to reverse this process. Not through new fashions or with the help of new media, but by drawing on what has long been there – precision in winemaking.
The fact that this approach to viticulture is having an impact is particularly evident among younger winegrowers. A generation that seeks substance rather than popular acclaim. “The greatest compliment is when they take it on board,” says Velich. “Then you know it’s going to continue.”
Ultimately, says Velich, his work is an attempt to make a large Central European region legible once more. Not as a narrative in the usual marketing sense, but as a cultural space. For some – and not just in the world of winegrowing – this is seen as overstepping the mark. But making friends was never Velich’s aim. And that is, in fact, very un-Austrian.