“Summary of the geography and history of Burgundy’s climates
December 5, 2013
Ladies and Gentlemen Academicians,
Needless to say, I’m very honored to be addressing you today, and I’d like to thank Jacques Seysses for suggesting that I join the Académie Internationale du Vin, and all of you for welcoming me into your midst. In welcoming me today, I think that many of you who knew him well will remember my father, Jacques d’Angerville, who was himself an Academician for many years. I say to myself that by accepting me among you today, you’re honoring him at least as much as you’re honoring me, and that’s just as well. A discreet man of great moral rigor, totally devoted to his terroirs, he embodied in many ways, I think, the fundamental values of the Burgundian man. He died ten years ago, but he continues to inspire me, vintage after vintage.
I’ve chosen to talk to you about the Climats du Vignoble de Bourgogne. As you probably know, our climats are candidates for inclusion on the World Heritage List. If this application is successful, as we all obviously hope it will be, Burgundy will join other prestigious vineyards already listed, such as Saint-Emilion, the Tokaj region, Haut-Douro, or, closer to home, Lavaux, to name but a few. I’d like to say in passing that this candidacy, which everyone has rallied around, owes everything to Aubert de Villaine, who initiated the registration procedure almost 7 years ago, and who is still holding it together today as President of the Association des Climats. By a stroke of luck, I was able to help Aubert in this task by opening a few doors for him in Paris. As a result, we learned to work together, and he was sufficiently satisfied with this collaboration to ask me, in March 2013, to assist him more officially. At his request, I became his Président Délégué within the Association des Climats, which coordinates the efforts of the entire region to bring this undertaking to fruition, and I’m now devoting a great deal of energy to it.
I’m reminding you of this because it’s thanks to this work within the Association that I’ve rediscovered, and often discovered, the exceptional richness of the history and geography of our Burgundy climats, and that’s why I’ve titled my talk:
Summary of the geography and history of Climats de Bourgogne
I understand that many of you may find it a challenge to speak on this subject in 20 minutes, especially in front of eminences such as Jacky Rigaud, who is one of our most intimate connoisseurs of our terroirs, if not the greatest. But when I received the program for the day, which called for Jacky to speak just after me, I realized that my role was to be the first part of the show, a bit like the chauffeur in the hall, keeping the audience waiting until the artist, the real one, arrived for his talk entitled “Geo-sensory tasting and place enhancement”. So, although we haven’t discussed it yet, Jacky and I have decided to tackle two complementary subjects today. I hope, my dear Jacky, that my talk will be a satisfactory introduction to yours.
My aim here is to show that Burgundy as we know it today is the result of the combined efforts of man and nature, the result of an exceptional encounter between a place, men and a plant, an encounter that was improbable and sometimes painful, but, thanks to the resilience, perseverance and even stubbornness of its main protagonists – the monks, dukes and winegrowers – it has been a fruitful encounter, making our region the world cradle and archetype of terroir winegrowing. Thus, from a geography (understood here in the broadest sense, including geology) that was a priori unfavorable, man has succeeded, through 2,000 years of history, in producing marvelous wines and subtly ranking them.
So let’s talk a little about this geography.
Geography first
Let’s start by recalling that the word “climat” comes from the Greek “klima” with a “k”, meaning inclination. One might almost think that this etymology was fabricated a posteriori so that we 21st-century Burgundians could more easily explain our history and that of our wines. Because, of course, we use the term “climat” in a sense closer to Greek etymology than to the definition of the word in a modern dictionary. As Bernard Pivot said (this phrase has been said over and over again since he first wrote it, but personally, I never tire of it):
“In Burgundy, when we talk about climate, we don’t raise our eyes to heaven, we lower them to earth. Burgundy is the only wine-growing region that can boast one climate in the sky and 1,247 climates on earth.”
In Burgundy terminology, a “climat” is a parcel of land with a name (in many cases, the same name for almost a thousand years), a particular subsoil, a particular exposure, particular hydrometric characteristics, and therefore a micro-climate that differs from the micro-climate of each of the adjacent parcels and, a fortiori, of the more distant parcels. This climate produces a wine that cannot be produced or imitated anywhere else. So, in our Burgundy climats, we have chosen to link the wine to the place in the most detailed, fine-tuned way, by successive iterations over our 2,000-year history. In the minds of those who accomplished it, the aim of dividing the Côte de Beaune and Côte de Nuits into an extraordinary mosaic of 1,247 different climats was to make the land speak in the most subtle and nuanced way possible; to enable this seemingly ungrateful land to express a whole palette of different sensations, depending on the parcel chosen; and of course, as we shall see, to hierarchize this perimeter by soon defining the appellations “village”, “premier cru” and “grand cru”.
The perimeter of the climats de Bourgogne is a strip of land some 50 kilometers long, from Dijon in the north to the Maranges vineyards in the south, and on average just one kilometer wide. It’s a slope, with a maximum altitude of no more than 350-400m, resulting from the uplift and fracturing, thirty million years ago, of the granitic basement and its sedimentary cover of marine origin. The presence of numerous satellite faults explains the great diversity of the soils, which are composed of geological layers of different ages and types. Our climates are laid out on this slope, forming a mosaic of land parcels which, even when joined, produce wines of different character. To the west, the top of the slope forms the border. To the east, the old medieval road (now the RD 974) forms the backbone of the climats.
The climates are located in an area that may seem too northerly for vines, but is at a climatic crossroads that is unique in the world: the Mediterranean brings mildness, and even summer heat, with the foehn effect particularly noticeable at mid-slope and in the vineyards protected to the west; the Morvan protects it from bad weather coming from the west, and it’s too far west to suffer from the harshness of a continental climate. And the slope faces east, towards the rising sun that, in Jacky Rigaud’s poetic phrase, “caresses” our vine rows from the early hours of the morning. Stone, which is very present on the soil surface, stores up the sun’s heat during the day and releases it to the plants at night.
But what immediately strikes the first-time visitor are the soils, these Burgundian clay-limestone soils which at first glance appear so unsuitable for any kind of cultivation that one wonders what prompted our ancestors to try cultivating this plant, more suited to a more southerly climate, two thousand years ago. It has to be said that the first vine, discovered fairly recently in Gevrey-Chambertin, dates back to 100 A.D. and was planted on the plain below the hillside, in richer, deeper soil than on the hillside itself. But as we shall see, it was precisely the a priori hostile soil of the hillside that sublimated man’s genius and enabled him to extract the very essence of the vines, in the form of a nectar of unrivalled subtlety and complexity.
Two towns are integral to the geography of Burgundy’s climats: Dijon, residence of the Dukes of Burgundy, who played a central role, alongside the monks, in the foundation of modern Burgundy, and Beaune, home to all the major Burgundy trading houses, Beaune with its kilometers of cellars that form an extraordinary labyrinth beneath the city, Beaune where Nicolas Rolin had the famous Hôtel-Dieu built in 1443, which to this day punctuates the professional calendar with its annual auction on the third Sunday in November. Thus, Dijon and Beaune were the centers of political, economic, cultural and religious power during the most important period in Burgundian history, from the 10th to the 15th century. Between these two cities, Burgundy’s villages follow one another within a few kilometers of one another, often nestling in one of the many valleys that punctuate the hillside at regular intervals.
This, in a nutshell, is the setting for Burgundy’s climat vineyards. It’s a narrow hillside, facing east and southeast, with a wide variety of soil and subsoil characteristics due to major geological accidents, making it ideal for differentiated plots.
Let’s turn now to the work of the men in this theater.
The story, then, in a few key stages
100 A.D.
This is the first chronological point to remember.
It’s the starting point of 2000 years of history, 2000 years of toil, of trial and error, generation after generation, who have refined their knowledge of the place, the soil, the subsoil, the sun exposure, the hydrometry, all the specific characteristics of each parcel in order to determine its exact limits, and then, in a second phase, to rank them. So, if the starting point in the history of Burgundy’s climats is the Gallo-Roman vineyard of 100 A.D., then the final milestone, the one that governs and will govern our Burgundy for a very long time to come, is represented by the decrees of 1936-1938, which set in stone the Appellations d’Origine Contrôlée and the hierarchy of appellations between Village, Premier Cru and Grand Cru, which, with very few exceptions, are still in force today.
Between the year 100 and 1936, our history was marked by a number of intermediate stages. Little by little, the desire to link wine to the place in which it is produced took root in our region, which has become the undisputed model for “terroir” viticulture. For us, a plot of land produces a cuvée; this cuvée produces a wine, i.e. a specific label, which is therefore the aromatic and gustatory expression of the soil on which it is produced.
But let’s get back to the main stages of our story:
6th to 8th centuries
By the 6th century, vines were being planted on the slopes and not just on the plains. A Burgundian law, the Gombette law, indirectly favored the establishment of vineyards on the slopes. Despite the poorer soils, vines there produced better quality wines. By this time, it was becoming clear that the best wines would be produced on the “méplats”, the gently sloping mid-slope area also known as the “silt trap”. At the same time, the first legal measures to protect vines also appeared at this time. Winegrowing became a central part of Burgundian society.
A century later, or so I was going to say, only a century later, we’re already talking about wine from Clos de Bèze in Gevrey-Chambertin. So a wine is already identified by the place where it was produced.
From 900 to 1100, the primordial role of monks
The period from 900 to 1100 was crucial for Burgundy. Cistercian monks founded Cluny (in 910) and Citeaux (in 1098). These two abbeys were to have a considerable and definitive impact on Burgundy, for it was the monks who founded them who first worked on the hierarchization of climates as we know it today. The monks were the first to understand the importance of promoting the quality of Burgundy wines above all else. With the power of the Church, and in particular its financial power, the monks improved the quality of the wines they produced, increased their reputation, invested massively to build vats, cellars and other buildings to vinify and then preserve the wine, and finally developed new markets for their products. Clos de Vougeot is, of course, the most famous expression of the Burgundian bati inherited from the monks.
Allen Meadows, who has written a remarkable book on Vosne-Romanée, entitled “The Pearl of the Côte”, quotes Matt Kramer, a great Burgundy connoisseur, in this book in an attempt to explain the terroir-based viticulture bequeathed to us by the monks. Kramer, says Allen Meadows, uses the term “somewhere-ness” to show the link that exists in Burgundy between place and wine. In France, Ségolène Royal, the unsuccessful candidate in the 2007 presidential election, drew much derision for using the neologism “bravitude” from the Great Wall of China, where she was. Despite this unfavorable reference, I’m tempted to translate Matt Kramer’s “somewhere-ness” as “lieu-itude”. The viticulture that the monks founded is thus empirically underpinned by the specific characteristics of the place of production, as if the limits of each plot, of each clos, had been determined after multiple vinifications and tastings, over several generations: it is indeed the “place-itude” of a Burgundy wine that characterizes it: nowhere else has the search for the relationship between place and wine been as sophisticated as in Burgundy.
From this time onwards, the first “clos” (walled vineyards) appeared, roads marked out the boundaries of the “lieux-dits” and murgers separated the plots. Limestone, a watermark in all our Burgundy wines, is present in large quantities in our vineyards. Winegrowers use it to build their walls, cabotes, cellars and cuveries.
From the 10th to the 15th century
Thanks to their power and influence throughout Europe, the Valois Dukes of Burgundy gave Burgundy wines considerable economic and cultural influence. They were quick to understand the importance of controlling the quality of wines produced in Burgundy, particularly for commercial purposes. Indeed, indirectly, Burgundy’s position in relation to its markets played a key role in improving quality. The end markets for Burgundy wines were generally far from their place of production (e.g., the Netherlands) and were not connected to Burgundy by road or river. It was therefore important to produce high-quality wines, whose value and renown justified costly transport, and which could withstand the journey.
During this period, a very large number of climats and lieu-dits received their names and definitive boundaries. But the most important event of this period was undoubtedly the Edict of 1395.
In a 1395 edict, Philippe le Hardi (Duke of Burgundy in 1363) prohibited the cultivation of Gamay on Burgundy hillsides. He justified this decision on the grounds that Gamay was more productive, but also more common, than Pinot Noir. The edict was not popular, but Philippe le Hardi was right. Little by little, Pinot Noir became the instrument through which soils, terroir and climate were expressed in wine. The climate lives in the wine thanks to pinot noir, or the wine is born on its climate with pinot noir as midwife.
In other words, Pinot Noir is to climate what a bow is to a violin.
The world’s rarest Stradivarius is just a silent piece of wood without its bow. In the same way, our Burgundian climates would not be able to express themselves in all their diversity without this particular grape variety, which adapts so well to our clay-limestone soils. It’s the uniqueness of the grape variety, the absence of blending, that allows the full palette of sensations from the terroir and the sap of the vine to fill our glass of Clos de Tart, Romanée Saint Vivant or Clos des Chênes. When two adjacent terroirs, both planted with Pinot Noir, produce two different wines, it’s the terroir that expresses itself, not the grape variety or the winemaker. Humbly, the winemaker is like the instrumentalist who delicately picks up the violin, takes up his bow, and plays a different score for each climate he exploits.
Philippe Le Hardi’s decision definitively oriented Burgundy towards quality, the pursuit of excellence and, progressively, the hierarchization of climats. The emergence of places with specific characteristics, delimited, named and protected by custom and tradition, continued during this period, supported by demanding production standards drawn up by monks, dukes and winegrowers.
In my village of Volnay, which was owned by the Dukes of Burgundy until the end of the 15th century, we know that a royal officer came to make an inventory of the property that had reverted to the King of France at the end of the Dukes’ reign. This inventory document, dating back to 1507, mentions the Champans, the Caillerets, the Taillepieds, all names of climats that still exist today, but it also describes the Clos des Ducs, which I have the privilege of exploiting as a monopoly. It specifies its exact location and surface area, 52 ouvrées. 52 ouvrées is the equivalent of around 2.15 hectares, which is the surface area of the Clos des Ducs today: we can therefore assume that the boundaries of this Clos have not changed since the 14th century. If you look at the plot from the east, you can see that it enjoys a very special exposure, unique in Volnay.
Anecdotally, it’s also interesting to note that this Clos has kept its name, Clos des Ducs, whereas most Clos des Ducs in other villages became Clos du Roi in the 16th century, as in Corton.
Modern period
The notion of climate really appeared in Burgundy writings in the 16th century, although a document from 1484 already mentions it in connection with Clos de Bèze. From the 16th century onwards, vines were planted on hillsides, and the great climats were already recognized. At the same time, the experience of winegrowers was sufficient to ensure that the main oenological practices were already known, to such an extent that their general principles remained virtually unchanged until the present day.
In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, the use of the name climat rapidly spread to designate parcels whose wines were identifiable. Côte de Beaune wines, known until then under the generic name of vins de Beaune, were gradually identified by their original climat, notably Clos de Vougeot, the aforementioned Clos de Bèze, Romanée and Clos de Tart.
In the 19th century, the first official classifications appeared. The various climates known and recognized since the Middle Ages were listed according to an indisputable hierarchy, and wines were described in terms of their qualities and differences, according to the climate from which they came. Morelot’s classification dates from 1831, Lavalle’s from 1855. Consumer maps appeared, showing the different climates in each village.
1936-1938
The 1936 and 1938 decrees, following on from the 1919 law, were issued by winegrowers themselves. These decrees set in stone the hierarchy of Burgundy’s climats, defining their boundaries and imposing a highly hierarchical classification. Among these visionary winegrowers concerned to protect our Burgundy were Henri Gouges, Christian and Pierre’s grandfather, and Sem d’Angerville, my grandfather, whose valiant fight against the bad practices still in force at the time helped protect the authenticity of Burgundy wines and therefore their quality.
The notion of Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée (AOC) appeared in the decrees of 1936-1938, distinguishing the physical characteristics of climates and recognizing the know-how of men through loyal and constant local usage. Today, this AOC system has proved to stand the test of time, even if some villages have recently requested the promotion of some of their Premier Crus to Grand Cru status.
So these decrees appear to be the result of 2000 years of history in a geography that was a priori hostile, or at the very least unfavorable. This is what makes Burgundy unique, and we can only be grateful to the successive generations who, through perseverance and humility, have understood what they could get out of this small strip of land, by analyzing every nook and cranny, by spotting, first empirically, then more scientifically, the tiniest climatic differences that separate each parcel, by imposing strict oenological practices, applied to the Pinot Noir grape alone, the catalyst of the aromatic revelation of our soils, finally.
Conclusion
When I think of my status as a Burgundy winegrower, the advert for a famous Swiss watch always comes to mind. Basically, it says that you never really own a Patek Philippe watch, you just keep it for the next generation. That’s the mindset we should be in, it seems to me, when it comes to our Burgundian climes. Our generation has a duty to conserve, that’s for sure, but also, I think, a duty to pass on to the next generation terroirs in a better state than the one in which they were handed down to us.
We are well aware of the dramatic consequences for our vineyards of the widespread use of weedkillers, fungicides and all the phytosanitary products that were discovered and aggressively marketed in the post-war period. We also know that the exponential sophistication of our tractors, and the parallel increase in their weight, contributes to compacting our soils, i.e. killing them slowly. Finally, we know that clones, for all their advantages, are a threat to the diversity of the Pinot Noir grape variety, and therefore to the complexity of our wines.
That’s why I’m delighted that Burgundy today is so strongly committed to a viticulture that is more respectful of the terroir, more attentive to nature, more in tune with the rhythm of the seasons. If we stray from this philosophy, we risk losing what has been so patiently and painstakingly built up over 2000 years: the expression of our climates in all their complexity.
Thank you for your attention.