Text Size:-+
08.19.2010

The Philosophy of Wabi-Sabi and Wine

wabi_sabi.jpgPerhaps as unlikely as it may seem, one of the keys to my appreciation of wine lies in an esoteric principle at the heart of Japanese culture and philosophy.

The 18 months I spent living in Japan were among the most intense of my life, and some of the most rewarding. I developed a deep appreciation for many aspects of the Japanese culture (not to mention the food), even at the limited level of understanding I was able to cultivate without speaking the language beyond the first-grade-level tourist vocabulary I attained by the time I left.

In particular, I am fascinated by the aesthetic principles that find their intersection in Japanese gardens, traditional wood architecture, and the ritual and philosophy of the tea ceremony. In these three arts, the Japanese have created a vocabulary that I find much more suited to describing some of wine's most ineffable qualities than we posses in English.

Before I can talk about how that vocabulary is meaningful to me, however, I need to share some background on how I think about experiencing wine. So bear with me a moment.

Talking about wine in any language is difficult. I will admit to having fantasized at times (OK, frequently) about being a synaesthete -- someone who, by virtual of some unique wiring, perceives some things with an unusual combination of senses, such as hearing sounds as particular colors. I fantasize that if I had such an ability, it would be easier to describe and talk about wine, and more importantly, to experience it in a more profound way.

Words are blocky and difficult to wrangle into semblances of meaning that approach what I enjoy in wine. Despite a somewhat established vocabulary for the discipline, in order to capture anything about wine that transcends the clinical, we must resort to metaphor and symbolism, as we struggle to express an experience that is, at best, only partly linguistic.

While the deconstruction of wine into its components plays a role in its critical evaluation, and for some, its enjoyment (just like those who enjoy picking out the melody line of a single instrument in a symphony), wine also offers the opportunity to be understood in the context of a singular experience, or a sum total, if you will. Of course, we experience wine in a series of shifting and fluid experiences, from the moment we first smell it to the moments in which the taste still lingers after a swallow, and everything in between. Our perception of a wine shifts and changes through the various mechanical aspects of sipping and swallowing, and over the course of time in the glass. Just as we see a landscape, a painting, or an oriental rug not in a single glance, but in a series of rapid, infinitesimal twitches of our eye (the technical term is saccades) that our brain stitches together for us, so too is my sense of a wine made up of little bursts of perception and memory that fuse together into a "sensibility" of what that wine is all about.

At some point, though, and not necessarily at a fixed and predictable point in this experience, we often have a sense of the wine as a whole. It might be after a full glass, it might be at the end of the meal, taking the last sips of the wine before leaving the table, it might be days later in reflection. But if we're considered, and attentive to the wine, there is some moment that we can apprehend it as a whole.

It is at this moment of appreciation for a wine that I have come to appreciate and understand the beauty of the Japanese concept of wabi-sabi, and its ability to capture a complexity that we cannot easily express in our own English language and our vocabulary of beauty.

Notoriously difficult to translate, wabi-sabi lies at the heart of the Japanese aesthetic philosophy (which is itself closely tied to Zen Buddhism), and to a certain extent, the traditional Japanese culture. The words were originally strung together in the context of the aesthetics of the tea ceremony, an art form which profoundly influences many aspects of the Japanese culture.

The entry for the term in Wikipedia does a nice job at an attempted definition:

Wabi originally referred to the loneliness of living in nature, remote from society; sabi meant "chill", "lean" or "withered". Around the 14th century these meanings began to change, taking on more positive connotations. Wabi now connotes rustic simplicity, freshness or quietness, and can be applied to both natural and human-made objects, or understated elegance. It can also refer to quirks and anomalies arising from the process of construction, which add uniqueness and elegance to the object. Sabi is beauty or serenity that comes with age, when the life of the object and its impermanence are evidenced in its patina and wear, or in any visible repairs.

From an engineering or design point of view, "wabi" may be interpreted as the imperfect quality of any object, due to inevitable limitations in design and construction/manufacture especially with respect to unpredictable or changing usage conditions; then "sabi" could be interpreted as the aspect of imperfect reliability, or limited mortality of any object, hence the etymological connection with the Japanese word sabi, to rust....

Wabi sabi can change our perception of our world to the extent that a chip or crack in a vase makes it more interesting and gives the object greater meditative value. Similarly materials that age such as bare wood, paper and fabric become more interesting as they exhibit changes that can be observed over time.

For me wabi-sabi is a fusion of several tensions -- harmony and dissonance, new and old, sculpted and organic -- as well as the emotional state of wistful reflection that these tensions produce.

I wrote some time ago about the concept of honesty in wine, and wabi sabi is at a level deeper still. The wines that I find I am most drawn to, that compel my attention as I appreciate them as a whole, evoke the notion of wabi-sabi.

These are wines that are not symmetrical, nor polished perfectly smooth. They have rough edges. They do not follow a formula. They do not harmonize in major chords, they have a faint minor key to them. They show their patina of age, or in the roughness of their youth they choose not to obscure their rawness with anything, but leave it bare to my palate.

Wines that are wabi-sabi evoke something deeper than flavors, deeper even than a place. Wabi-sabi involves a deep connection with reality, in a way that is unvarnished, but also rich and profound in its intimacy. And this is what I find in the most magical wines.

Of course, not all great wines embody this aesthetic principle, and nor should they. And I am certainly not dogmatic in my quest to drink only such wines. Some wines are profound and equally pleasurable for other reasons, even those that can be said to be truly the opposite of wabi-sabi in their fresh, vibrant purity, or their lush, rich opulence.

There is also presumably such a thing as too much wabi-sabi, though I have yet to experience such a surfeit in my life. Instead I merely savor those moments when I can take another sip of a wine, close my eyes, and experience that poignant sense of mortality, beauty, and imperfection that is evoked by the wine, but ultimately lives within me.

Comments (16)

Adam Yusko wrote:
08.19.10 at 10:01 PM

I have never thought of applying the idea of Wabi Sabi to wine, though I am quite familiar with it being an avid tea enthusiast, and a collector of the Japanese pottery of Hagi-yaki.

But in truth right now I am drinking a rather inexpensive wine that I feel was to refined, it lost its unique characteristics. I mean I think Terroir might be a good representation of how Wabi Sabi occurs in a wine. In the sense that I feel any wine that actively shows signs of where it was grown is inherently slightly rough or not "perfectly formed." Though I easily argue that those imperfections give it a life it would have never had otherwise and make it seem real.

Alder Yarrow wrote:
08.19.10 at 11:03 PM

Adam, thanks for the comments. I think wabi-sabi in a wine is more than terroir in the classical sense of the word. Terroir is an expression of place, but I think wabi-sabi in wine transcends "somewhereness" and includes much more.

Bruce Schoenfeld wrote:
08.20.10 at 2:36 AM

Alder, I've written about wabi-sabi and wine several times in the past, most recently in conjunction with Yarra Valley. For me, it's a distillation of what I like especially in certain unheralded Old World wines, that Chianti or Chinon that starts out seemingly unremarkable but then you look up and see that the bottle has taken you all the way through the meal without a missed note. Hard to find it in a sculpted Napa Cab or even in a top Bordeaux, at least in my mind, though it's certainly there with Yarra Yering.

Nicky wrote:
08.20.10 at 5:26 AM

This is a wonderful, simple philosophy that encapsulates so much of the essence of wine. It describes the experience and allows for induvidual understanding and appreciation.

Thank you for teaching me something new.

Benito wrote:
08.20.10 at 7:23 AM

In the past I've tried to express a small imperfection in wine that makes it unique and thus better as "Cindy Crawford's mole". But this is a far more eloquent approach to the subject.

Alder Yarrow wrote:
08.20.10 at 8:54 AM

Bruce,

Thanks for the comments. Totally agree Yarra Yering shows wabi-sabi in spades.

Tai-Ran Niew wrote:
08.20.10 at 9:48 AM

NIce. Thank you! Also reason why Japanese are such avid surfing long-boarders. What you described is what surfers search for every time they paddle out. I am a long-boarder turned wine enthusiast...

Alder Yarrow wrote:
08.20.10 at 9:55 AM

Benito,

There's also a related concept in the traditions of Persian carpet weaving, in which the weavers would always introduce one small flaw "for Allah," with the justification that to make something perfect, without any flaws, was god's right, alone, and if done by man, offensive.

Tim McDonald wrote:
08.20.10 at 3:02 PM

Great post Alder and thoughtful comments from the crowd following you. I can see that they "get it" whether long boards, tea, Yara Yering, and hand made rugs, etc. I look forward to checking back on this a few days from now to see what others contribute to the dialogue. I agree wabi-sabi very much transcends somewhereness. You have raised the one thing that so many of the new world producers often miss and I think of it as soul. Nicely said and I appreciate the topic! BTW I enjoy the art of sailing as I am not so good on a longboard - McD

08.21.10 at 2:49 PM

Love to read on soulful, atmospheric topics. I too can relate such sentiments to the moments I've had with wine, which is what creates the magic in the drink that most people don't bother to pause and think about.

08.22.10 at 2:16 AM

Brilliant and inspiring post. Thanks!

JM Darkly wrote:
08.22.10 at 10:47 AM

Alder, love your further explanation of persian carpets in the comments above. I have often thought about "imperfections" and notes that "drop in and out over time" in the best wines I've experienced, this is a beautiful metaphor, thank you:

There's also a related concept in the traditions of Persian carpet weaving, in which the weavers would always introduce one small flaw "for Allah," with the justification that to make something perfect, without any flaws, was god's right, alone, and if done by man, offensive.

Patrick wrote:
08.22.10 at 2:51 PM

I like the aspect of respect over time as embodied in the concept of Wabisabi. How you treat something over time increases the relationships meaningfulness. The notion of looking after a lacquer bowl or buying the same wine year after year regardless of the weather or drinking the same wine year after year to see how it changes. Meaning emerges in this act of observance over time and an acceptance of the impermanence of life.

Wesley wrote:
08.23.10 at 12:51 AM

While creating my red blend I spent a lot of time learning to understand the relationship between "science" and "soul" and wine. Does wine have a soul, and if so how much of a role does it play in it's flavor? Or, is it possible to scientifically create a perfect wine? As a result of my thoughts I eventually came up with my label's tagline - science or soul, you decide... I think a great wine must uniquely imperfectly perfect. Wine and an open mind can take you on such an incredible journey. Thanks for the reminder.

Sondra wrote:
08.23.10 at 9:31 AM

A great article and comments. And perhaps wines that are wabi sabi are those that express the most beauty in the hidden realm that I've explored for decades. I have always been amazed at the exquisiteness of some wines and the spare simplicity of others. Is it soul that's detected with the microscope, the winemaker's personality, the mystique of the land? Tasting shapes adds to the synesthete's repertoire of enjoying wine. Rather than considering ourselves wine geeks by our many ways of looking at wine, we are certainly blessed to have so many to enjoy in more ways that ever imagined. Clink clink.

12.01.10 at 12:09 PM

Thank you for introducing me to such a beautiful concept. I shall treasure it as I do the experiences of drinking beautifully aged and complex wines. At last a word to describe the magic! I shall keep watch for more musings from you ...

Comment on this entry

(will not be published)
(optional -- Google will not follow)
Yes
 

Type the characters you see in the picture above.

Pre-Order My Book!

small_final_covershot_dropshadow.jpg A wine book like no other. Photographs, essays, and wine recommendations. Learn more.

Follow Me On:

Twitter Facebook Pinterest Instagram Delectable Flipboard

Most Recent Entries

Vinography Images: Rising Light Book Review: The Essential Scratch and Sniff Guide to Becoming a Wine Expert The Beauty of 2011 Burgundy: Highlights from La Paulee de San Francisco Seven Percent Solution Tasting: May 8, San Francisco Vinography Images: Autumn Cellar Vinography Images: Vines and Sky Are You a Red, Pink or a Purple Wine Stater? 2014 TAPAS Iberian Varieties Tasting: April 27, San Francisco Taste Washington Day One in Brief Vinography Images: Trailing Vine

Favorite Posts From the Archives

Masuizumi Junmai Daiginjo, Toyama Prefecture Wine.Com Gives Retailers (and Consumers) the Finger 1961 Hospices de Beaune Emile Chandesais, Burgundy Wine Over Time The Better Half of My Palate 1999 Királyudvar "Lapis" Tokaji Furmint, Hungary What's Allowed in Your Wine and Winemaking Why Community Tasting Notes Sites Will Fail Appreciating Wine in Context The Soul vs. The Market 1989 Fiorano Botte 48 Semillion,Italy

Archives by Month

 

Required Reading for Wine Lovers

The Oxford Companion to Wine by Jancis Robinson The Taste of Wine by Emile Peynaud Adventures on the Wine Route by Kermit Lynch Love By the Glass by Dorothy Gaiter & John Brecher Noble Rot by William Echikson The Science of Wine by Jamie Goode The Judgement of Paris by George Taber The Wine Bible by Karen MacNeil The Botanist and the Vintner by Christy Campbell The Emperor of Wine by Elin McCoy The World Atlas of Wine by Hugh Johnson The World's Greatest Wine Estates by Robert M. Parker, Jr.