Tribute by Jésus Barquin

Victor de la Serna was an emblematic figure in Spanish wine, leaving a diverse legacy: passionate journalist, co-founder of a major Spanish daily, upright food critic, basketball enthusiast, among other talents. A man of culture and complexity, he was also a friend and mentor to me, which adds a profound sadness to his passing. But his impact goes far beyond our personal relationship: he played a crucial role in transforming the Spanish wine world at the end of the XXᵉ and beginning of the XXIᵉ century, and it would be unfair not to recall his many contributions.

A visionary, Victor understood the importance of the Internet for wine communication and saw the need to break away from the provincial vision that dominated Spanish viticulture. A cosmopolitan, he created Elmundovino, a pioneering platform where a team of experts, under his direction, offered a faithful chronicle of the evolution and appreciation of Spanish wine.

Victor wasn’t a man to wait for others to lead the way. In addition to creating this influential site, he was also a pioneer in wine production. By creating Finca Sandoval almost ex nihilo, where he planted Syrah in an area of Manchuela little known for its quality wines, he fulfilled a dream by producing remarkable wines for over two decades.

His death in October 2024 came sooner than we would have wished. Since our first meetings, I remember his quiet conviction that he would die young, like his father and grandfather before him, both named Victor de la Serna. Fortunately, he overcame this anticipation, giving us many years of his generous, cultured presence. Passionate about conversation, he mastered the great virtues of intelligence: knowledge, expression and listening.

Although sometimes fiery in public debate, those who knew him knew that he was sensitive, generous and jovial. His irony, often seen as the prerogative of brilliant minds, was never malicious. It was in this blend of intelligence and benevolence that the real Victor lay.

Victor has always supported me. He enthusiastically published my articles, co-wrote a book on Rioja with me, and advocated my admission to the International Wine Academy, an institution in which he was a major figure. This bond of friendship was also nourished by our shared Cantabrian heritage, a frequent topic of conversation when we weren’t talking about wine or gastronomy.

A journalist at heart, he left behind an immense body of work: articles, reviews, editorials, sometimes written under pseudonyms such as Fernando Point, for gastronomic criticism with his wife Carmen, or Vicente Salaner for basketball. Although modest, he never took the trouble to compile his works in a collection; a void I hope to see filled one day.

In the meantime, dear Victor, we shall continue to read your diary and to toast your memory with our best bottles. Happy for the memories we shared, we mourn an irreplaceable absence.

Tribute by Juancho Asenjo

Dear Academicians,

Víctor de la Serna, our friend and AIV colleague, died at the age of 77 after suffering a stroke in front of the El Mundo newspaper.

Victor possessed an encyclopedic knowledge of the world’s wines and cuisines, acquired during his years of study in Geneva and New York, where he was the first Spaniard to study journalism at Columbia University.

Returning to Spain in 1975, he was appointed editor-in-chief of Informaciones and began writing about gastronomy. He then moved on to El País, Diario 16, and helped found El Mundo newspaper as head of international relations. He uses different pseudonyms: Vicente Salaner for basketball and Fernando Point for gastronomy and wine, in homage to the French chef Fernand Point (La Pyramide, Vienna). This pseudonym was shared with his wife Carmen. He was also very passionate about the blues. His father was president of the AIV.

He was Spain’s most prestigious wine critic. 25 years ago, together with Luis Gutiérrez, Jens Rijs and Juanma Bellver, we founded elmundovino.com, which for 20 years has been the Spanish benchmark for wine in the world.

At the end of the 90s, he realized one of his dreams by becoming a winemaker. His project is called Finca Sandoval, in La Manchuela (Castilla-La Mancha). A few years ago, he sold most of it to a group of investors. Victor could never have made a living as a salesman or business manager.

Behind this tall, insultingly bright, shy, discreet and introverted man lies a little-known personality full of kindness. Individualist, confronting in his own way all power groups, never giving in to the tastes of the masses or the ratings, always in possession of the truth, incorruptible, defender of individual freedom against the excesses of the State and its authoritarian mentality… He did not adapt well to teamwork, which was too difficult for him.

To be contradicted was unacceptable to himself, and he presented arguments. But he held no grudges. Although he didn’t let himself be loved, many of us loved him; although he didn’t let himself be helped, many of us tried to help him.

In his final days, he demonstrated that vital contradiction we all carry within us: He shot at his adversaries and those closest to him, where no one is safe and no one hides in a trench. His stories have left no one indifferent. His radical stance against current politics, against Catalan independence fighters, against the government and its ministers, against the degradation of journalism…

However, away from the networks, in his daily life, he became much more human. He tried to be affectionate in his own way, which was not the way we usually understand it, but this effort was felt by the people concerned.

The world to which Victor belonged has disappeared; it no longer exists because he never felt it as his own. Victor had been saying goodbye to all of us for years without proclaiming it. He was aware that the times ahead would be complicated in an era of ethical impoverishment. It was another way of suffering in silence. He has just left us, and we already miss him, for he left a profound mark on the world of journalism, enogastronomy and humanity. He left us too soon. He will certainly live on in all of us.

We are privileged to have met him and to have had him in our lives. Victor has fertilized the earth. His seeds will germinate, perhaps not in the short term, but in time, his figure will grow.

May the earth be light to you

11 December 2024