The
Swartland has got under my skin: the open, dusty, daydream-inducing
roads; the dramatic granite outcrops; the big billowing skies; the
swathes of slightly unkempt farmland, on the edge of wildness; the aura
of being in a borderland, between mountains; the charismatic old bush
vines; the summer hues of baked earth, shades of sandy-yellow, amber,
and gold; the distinctive scents of fynbos; the kaleidoscopic sunsets
and the blazing sunrises. But it’s not just the place, of course, it’s
the people in this place – the people who grow wine here and who have,
over the years, made the Swartland their home. Combined, the place and
these people have created an extraordinary energy and sense of
togetherness – an everyone’s-welcome-here vibe, a
let’s-not-take-ourselves-too-seriously sparkle – which is completely
intoxicating.
I am recently back from the 2025 edition of the Swartland Revolution,
the first since 2015, hot on the heels of two weeks of harvest with
Donovan Rall in the Swartland. I joked that I was submerged in Swartland
Syrah for a fortnight in February (Donovan processes his Syrah whole
bunch, and I stomped most of those bunches myself) but the truth is what
I’ve really been submerged in is the Swartland spirit. And I don’t want
to resurface.
From bread basket to dynamic fine wine region
The Swartland is a 440,000-hectare appellation, about 40 miles north
of Cape Town, with less than three percent of its land under vine. In
2023, there were 11,977 hectares of Swartland vineyard, making it South
Africa’s fourth-most planted wine region, behind Paarl, Robertson, and
the Breedekloof, and just ahead of Stellenbosch. Taking its name –
“black land” – from the endemic dark-grey-coloured renosterbos
(“rhinoceros bush”) shrubs, it is the bread basket of the Western Cape,
most associated with its wheat farming.
Unlike Stellenbosch, which has many famous, grand estates, some
dating back to the 1600s, the Swartland has only two historic private
cellars (Allesverloren and Lammershoek) and was a cooperative-led region
in the twentieth century. Its modern development can be traced back to the late-1990s
and to the establishment, by Fairview’s Charles Back, of a new cellar
dedicated to Swartland fruit: Spice Route. Back hired a young Eben Sadie
as his winemaker who made three vintages for Spice Route, while working
on his own wine projects with Back’s blessing, before leaving to set up
Sadie Family Wines. From 2000 onwards, Sadie and a small but growing
number of winemakers started to source from the Swartland, exploring the
region’s identity, and what they recognised as its untapped potential,
through its predominantly dryland-farmed old bush vines. This new
generation of winemakers were in the opening pages of their careers and
had neither vineyards nor cellars of their own, and the somewhat remote
and off-the-radar Swartland offered them the opportunity to establish
themselves independently.
As momentum built, and inspired by the Hospice du Rhône in
California, the Swartland Revolution was unleashed on the world in 2010.
There were four founding producers and six pioneering individuals
behind this: A.A. Badenhorst Family Wines (Adi Badenhorst), Mullineux
(Andrea and Chris Mullineux), Porseleinberg (Callie Louw and Marc Kent),
and The Sadie Family Wines (Eben Sadie). 2010 was the same year that
Sadie launched his now highly sought-after Old Vines Series (Die
Ouwingerdreeks) wines from the 2009 vintage – rebranded as the District
Series (Die Distriksreeks) with the 2023 vintage – and the same year
that the first Porseleinberg Syrah was made by Kent and Louw; it was to
be a turning point not just in how the Swartland was perceived, but in
how South Africa was perceived by the wine world at large.
From the beginning, the “revolutionaries” shared a number of core
beliefs. As well as displaying a relaxed, sometimes provocatively
irreverent outlook on wine – decidedly counter-establishment – these
individuals all, first and foremost, expressed a deep connection with
the land, which Badenhorst describes as “not just a physical but a
spiritual connection”. Yes, they all work with a similar ethos in the
cellar (indigenous ferments, minimal additions, and limited, if any, new
oak), but much more significant than their winemaking approach is the
work they do in the vineyards. Championing grape varieties which thrive
in the hot, dry Mediterranean climate of the Swartland, they farm
attentively, aiming to improve soil health and replenish organic matter
through the use of diverse cover crops, natural mulches, and composting –
methods we are now recognising as integral to a regenerative system of
farming. This was a movement grown from the soil.
The revolutionaries have captured the identity of the Swartland in
their wines, both celebrating the uniqueness of single sites – for
example, through the Mullineux Single Terroir Chenin Blancs and Syrahs –
and the beauty of multi-vineyard, multi-varietal blends. The success of
the blends is a brilliant piece of future-proofing, enabling them to
integrate lesser-known grape varieties which thrive in the Swartland
climate into their wines, without changing the names, or following, of
the wines. Witness the shift in make-up of Sadie Family Wines Columella
in the last two decades, from circa 80% Syrah to now less than 40%, with
a whole suite of supporting varieties including Tinta Barroca now in
the mix; the inclusion of Grenache Blanc and then Verdelho – and more
drought-tolerant white grapes – in Mullineux Old Vines White; the
annually-fluctuating medley of some dozen varieties in Badenhorst Family
Wines White Blend; the plantings of Assyrtiko, Agiorgitiko, Grillo,
Vermentino, et al, going into the ground.
Through their distinctive and expressive wines, the founders of the
Swartland Revolution put the Swartland on the fine wine map and inspired
winemakers all over the country to re-evaluate the potential of their
respective regions.
The Swartland Revolution revisited
Fifteen years after the Swartland Revolution officially launched in
2010, and ten years after the curtain closed on their last rendition,
the original gang of six decided that the time was right for a return of
sorts. And what a return they orchestrated! In the opening address,
which sounds far more formal than it actually was, Badenhorst spoke of
their “intense passion and insatiable drive for the Swartland” and this
was palpable throughout the weekend.
Over 300 people descended on Graanland in the Paardeberg for a
two-day festival celebrating everything that the Swartland has come to
represent. Three stimulating wine seminars were interspersed with
wonderful food, often cooked over open flame, “beer breaks”, live bands,
and a carnival atmosphere, each night ending with dancing – and
sleeping (even if only for a few short hours) – under the stars, in the
temporary campsite erected for the weekend. The guests were an eclectic
combination of both the trade (local and international) – including
winemakers, importers, retailers, restauranteurs – and the public, and
these two categories rubbed shoulders amicably, united by their love of
wine in general and Swartland wine in particular.
Among the many wines that passed our lips over the weekend, the most
fascinating for me came in the “Swartland Stories” seminar where we
compared two vintages of one wine from each producer, ten years apart,
letting – as our festival programme stated – “time do the talking”. The
wines (in the order we tasted) were: Mullineux Old Vines White 2010 and
2020, A.A. Badenhorst Family Wines White Blend 2013 and 2023,
Porseleinberg Syrah 2011 and 2021, and Sadie Family Wines Columella 2012
and 2022.
This comparative exercise suggested that we probably drink Swartland
white blends too young; these wines ascend to another level of textural
complexity when given time to develop in bottle and in both cases it was
the older vintages which excited me most for drinking now. How much
time to give them is difficult to say, as Andrea Mullineux explained
how, like Rhône whites, they do not age in a linear fashion. The tasting
confirmed to me how important a part of the Swartland identity the
Chenin-based white blend is (and how spectacularly delicious it is,
too).
Turning to the reds, Porseleinberg 2011 was as fiercely tannic as the
last time I tasted almost one year ago (I love its refusal to budge!),
but it was so much more open aromatically – dazzlingly perfumed in fact.
Sit tight if you’re one of the lucky few who has this in their cellar.
Its younger sibling was on fine form too, more floral than 2011, and
thrumming with energy. Of the pairs of wines, Columella felt to have
gone through the greatest evolution stylistically – the 2022 displaying
heightened elegance, precision, freshness, and astonishing detail, while
the 2012 felt more brawny and rugged, broader and fuller – but, as with
all, the connecting dots between the two vintages were clearly visible.
The Swartland identity
The “Quality First” seminar saw Sebastián Zuccardi of Zuccardi Wines
in Mendoza, Argentina, and Tim Atkin MW explore the twin pillars of
identity and diversity in the Chardonnays and Malbecs which Zuccardi
grows in the Uco Valley. This prompted me to think about how regional
identity is created by winegrowers, and the many historical and cultural
reference points which accumulate to create a collective understanding –
and sometimes judgement – of a region’s character, as well as how long
it takes to establish this and how difficult it is to dismantle and
reshape, once formed.
The Swartland had no identity on a global stage a quarter of a
century ago, and certainly no reputation for quality wine production.
Today, its thrilling, transparent, terroir-focused wines find themselves
in collector’s cellars alongside the great classic wine regions of the
world. Beyond the revolutionaries, there is an exciting – and expanding –
array of Swartland-based producers, including (but not limited to!)
City on a Hill, David & Nadia, JC Wickens, Rall Wines, Vinevenom,
Wolf & Woman, as well as producers who make one or two wines from
Swartland sites, such as Alheit Vineyards, Boekenhoutskloof, Damascene,
Gabriëlskloof, Thorne & Daughters, Van Loggerenberg.
Reflecting on what the Swartland Revolution has achieved in a short
space of time, Zuccardi’s words in the opening seminar resonate:
“Terroir doesn’t belong to us, but our interpretation of the terroir
belongs to us”. The revolutionaries all had – and have – the boldness to
own their individual interpretations of the Swartland, to carve their
own respective paths, away from the historic and prestigious centre of
South Africa’s wine industry, and in so doing their combined output
represented “a reinvention of what South Africa meant to the world”, to
quote Anthony Hamilton Russell, while moderating the “Swartland Stories”
seminar.
What, then, is “Swartlandness”? Kent answered this question in a
heartbeat; it is “studied carelessness”. The words that sprung to mind
for Badenhorst are “unapologetically authentic”. Proving that point, for
Louw, “real Swartlandness is no bullshit.” For the Mullineuxs, it is a
commitment to the land and “letting the seasons guide us while doing
things with heart, with grit, and often a little against the grain”; it
is “rooted in identity, open in spirit”. For Sadie, Swartlandness means
“a complex, humble landscape told simply”.
For me, and after my experience going “back to the revolution”,
Swartlandness is that intoxicating sense of easy togetherness I
attempted to describe in my introduction. Badenhorst, Kent, Louw, the
Mullineuxs, and Sadie have, through their wines and through hosting the
Swartland Revolution events, managed to amplify the inherent power of
wine – the power that the growing and the making and the drinking of
wine has to bring people together, and in so doing to create community,
culture, and connection, with each other and with the land. They would
not admit that, of course (they would probably just say they know how to
throw a lekker party), but that humility is part of their
Swartlandness.