(Manfred Klimek / animated pic: runwayml)
(Below this article you will find a link to a portrait of Adi Werner on KALK & KEGEL by Joachim Heidersdorf)
Adi Werner turned 90 on 11 March. And with him, a form of hospitality becomes visible that has become rarer today: the old-school patron. Someone who does not moderate, but dictates. Who does not accompany, but shapes. And who does not merely run his establishments, but inscribes his character into them.
Werner helped shape the Arlberg over several decades. Under his direction, the Hospiz and later the Hospiz Alm became more than a hotel operation – they became a place of theatrical presentation. Luxury, society, wine, entertainment: everything at once, everything with emphasis. Anyone who stopped here was not simply a guest, but part of a dramaturgy clearly determined by the master of the house.
The biography is well known: from lift boy to patron, via stints in Bad Gastein, Venice and Lausanne, later working internationally, then back at the Arlberg, where he took over the Hospiz together with his wife Gerda in 1964. It is the classic post-war tale of advancement – except that Werner lived it very visibly.
His understanding of hospitality was unequivocal: presence, closeness, influence. Werner was not someone who held back. He sat down at tables, addressed guests directly, intervened – including in the glass. His famous maxim of throwing money out of the window so that it would come back in through the door was less a saying than a method. Generosity as strategy, charm as a tool, wine as leverage.
This form of leadership was effective, but also clearly hierarchical. The patron decided. The rest followed. The fact that this model worked was down to the era – and to Werner himself. Today, we would probably view it more critically.
Two things particularly shaped his work: the Brotherhood of St Christopher and wine.
The brotherhood, a charitable organisation with a long history, was expanded into a significant institution with his involvement. More than 20 million euros in aid for families speak for themselves. Here, another side of this system becomes apparent: structured, long-term, effective – and charitable.
With wine, however, it was about more than quality. Werner understood early on that wine is also theatre. At the end of the 1970s, he began collecting Bordeaux – initially against opposition, later with increasing success. Large-format bottles became his trademark. Not only because they mature better, but because they make an impression.
Today, the collection comprises around 3,500 large formats (!), up to 27 litres, predominantly from Bordeaux. Cheval Blanc, Latour, Margaux, Yquem – names that stand not only for wine, but for a system of prestige. Werner did not invent this system, but he implemented it consistently at the Arlberg.
The “Wine World”, opened three years ago, continues this logic – only on a larger scale. The route leads downwards, not upwards. Slide, photo walls, theatrical presentation. The “Wine Dome” forms the climax: a space that is less cellar than stage. Hundreds of large-format bottles, light, architecture, a central table. One may find it impressive. Or over the top. Both are possible.
Here, wine is not hidden, but displayed. And in such a way that it has an impact.
This way of engaging with wine reflects an era in which size was a value in itself. Today, that has shifted. Provenance, precision and restraint have become more important than gesture and volume. From this perspective, the cult of large-format Bordeaux bottles seems almost like a counterpoint to the present day.
And yet: Werner’s system worked. For decades. It retained guests, generated turnover and positioned the Arlberg internationally. It made wine accessible to many people – albeit in a form strongly shaped by status and theatrical presentation. Werner himself remains present to this day, even without an operational role. A figure who has endured while the industry has changed.
One can see him as a grand seigneur. Or as the last representative of a model that is scarcely created in this form today. He is probably both. His life’s work deserves recognition. But it also tells of an era that is no longer quite our own.