Cameron, The Interview Continued

Following is the second half of our interview with John Paul, the winemaker from Cameron.

SF: The press still seems to focus primarily on California as the center of Pinot Noir in America, but I suspect you feel its heart lies in Oregon?

JP: Absolutely. There’s no doubt about it. That’s why I came up here. I felt that back in the early 80’s. I tried David Lett’s ( The Eyrie Vineyards ) Pinot Noir and it was like, this is… you know, after doing Burgundy, the more I was in Burgundy the more I realized this is it. Oregon is the place to do it. This is the most like Burgundy. This area. If you want to make something like Burgundy, which—let’s face it, that’s why we’re interested in Pinot Noir, because of what Burgundy’s done. You know, everyone tries to go, “Well, you know, we’re not making Burgundy here.” Well, you know… yes we are. Yes, that is what we’re trying do. That really is what we’re trying to emulate.

SF: There’s no other bar that’s been set somewhere else?

JP: No. That’s the bar. So yes we are. We are trying to make something that’s kind of like Burgundy. At least I am and I think if you’re really honest, yes we are. And I’m not pretentious enough to say that I’m making anything like any of these Grand Cru Burgundies. Maybe I’ve made some things would be on the level of some of the Premier Cru wines. But that’s it at this point.

…I’ve always felt Chardonnay was a brilliant variety here. I’ve always thought it was completely the wrong variety to plant in California. It’s too hot, too alcoholic. They irrigate their vines so they get eight tons per acre instead of like, two, which is what they need, and they’ll never make decent Chardonnay.

When the white winemaker from Mondavi, who does their Chardonnay, their Reserve Chardonnay, was up here several years ago he came out to the winery. I was dropping crop and he was sitting up on the deck and he goes, “What are you doing?” And I go, “There’s too much crop. I’ve got to drop it down to about two and half tons, two tons per acre.” And he goes, “Why would you do that?” I went, “So I can make decent wine. What do you use for like, the Reserve Chardonnay at Mondavi?” He says, “Oh, eight tons.”

SF: Ok. Let’s talk irrigation. You’ve founded the Deep Roots Coalition to advocate dry viticulture. You’re quite vocal about opposing irrigation. What’s the deal?

JP: You know, you’re talking about a hundred years from now, what are people gonna say? Just that. Is there even a wine industry here in a hundred years? If we’re all irrigated and they’ve depleted the water, there might not even be a wine industry here. So I’m talking about sustainability. I’m talking about people doing a hundred years from now, what they doing now. Clos Electrique will still be here. Abbey Ridge will still be here. But will Argyle’s vineyards be here that are irrigated? Will Stoller still be here? Will Domaine Serene be here? Will Domaine Drouhin be here? Gherts will be here, but will Archery Summit be here? Because if they have to cut off irrigation on those vineyards, they’re just going to die. They’ll die.

So that’s my problem. It’s sustainability. It’s about doing what’s right for the environment. We can talk about the niceties of the wines, and that you can do this and that but let’s talk about what’s best for the environment and the water table and the viability of the region.

SF: You think it’s irresponsible to think of wine outside of its environmental impact, its sustainability?

JP: I do. You have to think of like oil. Water is a finite resource. And losing it has way more difficult repercussions than losing oil. There is no replacement for fresh water. When it’s gone, it’s gone. When we use up these aquifers…and everybody thinks, “Well, it rains here.” Rain doesn’t necessarily replenish these aquifers. They’re below the basalt layer. It’s not clear that water percolating down from rain goes through the basalt… I tell you what, water tables are dropping in the Dundee Hills.

SF: What other arguments are there for dry farming?

JP: Another would be terrior—an expression of site and vineyard. I think that’s why people drink wine. They want a place associated with it. It’s clear to me that these wines that are coming from irrigated vineyards have a sameness to them. They don’t have a place to them. You taste them and they all seem alike. Then you start hearing consumers out there who go, “Hey, these Oregon Pinot Noirs taste alike.” You ask them which ones they’ve had and they start going, “you know, I’ve had Domaine Serene, I’ve had Archery Summit…” and you have to agree. Then you go, “well, have you tried Evesham Wood, have you tried Brickhouse, have you tried John Thomas?” If it’s “no,” then, okay. You understand you’re talking about two different types.

SF: What other beefs do you have with the direction wine is going?

JP: The attraction of wine is its inconsistency. That’s what makes it fascinating... There’s another great argument for not irrigating. Irrigating wipes out all the peaks and valleys and you wind up with boring, industrial wine. My quote as of late, from Oscar Wilde is “Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative.” It’s true.

SF: Last question for you. Why would someone with a PhD and a potentially lucrative and respected career in science or academia toss that away and play with grapes?

JP: It’s a good question. Why are we sitting here burning up all this time talking about it? Julian (his son) will often say, “It’s a freaking beverage, man.” And it is, but what is it about wine? There’s just something about it. It grabs a hold of you. It’s got a history, a brilliant history. I’m growing grape varieties in the vineyard that are centuries old. It’s got a place to it.

You know what? It reflects the cycle of the year. The cycle of nature. You’ve got a certain year and you work the vines all through that year. Then they produce and what they produce reflects on the year that you've just worked. Then it ages in the cellar and you get this chronological thing, with all these vintages back there. It’s really interesting, I look at my two kids-- One was born in ’82 and the other in ’87. I can remember those vintages better than I can anything else about the year they were born in. What the growing season was like. What the wines were like. That’s what it is about wine. It’s the memories.

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