At a think tank held in Stellenbosch in 2022, Areni Global hosted an Oxford-style public debate on the necessity of luxury in society. It was one of those topics that – at first glance – felt like a fun bit of intellectual gymnastics. But by the time that panelists like Felicity Carter, Nicole Rolet, and Chinedu Rita Rosa were done with their tasks of either attacking or defending the notion, I felt more disillusioned than ever.

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To be clear, I was not disillusioned because I had become convinced that luxury (and therefore fine wine) should not exist. But rather, I had become disillusioned because I realised that the majority of what is perceived as “luxury” – from shoes to yachts to wheels, whisky, and wine – achieves its status through misdirection, obfuscation, or distasteful decadence.

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Of course, this is not a new observation. But perhaps it is one that I’ve been slow to internalise. Perhaps I’ve been too busy marvelling at the exquisite alchemical magic and mystery of wine at a molecular level to notice that much of what gets sold as “luxury” in the wine industry achieves that status through pricing strategy, brand positioning, and a manufactured sense of exclusivity. As opposed to earning the title through to the acknowledgement of the costs and effort that go into the act of delivering genuine, coherent, beauty.

Which brings me to the current release of Damascene Wines from winemaker, Jean Smit. Damascene is a collaboration between winemaker Jean Smit and David Curl, the owner of Habibi Farm in Elgin. Both David and Jean have credentials, but I won’t go into them now. Instead, you can read about them here, if you wish. I’m more interested in talking about what they’re doing now as opposed to what they did then.

Damascene is a range of wines that aims to “tell the story, not of their owners, or marketing trends, but of the very vineyards themselves.” Admittedly, the goal of “creating wines of place” has been bandied around so loosely that the phrase has been rendered nigh-on meaningless. But it must be said that Damascene has managed to claw back some of sense of impact for the term, ironically, by fore-fronting the decisions of the winemaker in the process of translating a place into a wine, rather than insisting that great winemakers try to “stay out of the way” as much as possible. It is refreshing to learn that Jean Smit does not view himself as a “victim of terroir”, or someone who “just wants the grapes to speak for themselves”, but rather has a very clear idea of what inspires him about a given region or vineyard site. He then focuses on that inspiration and begins the task of hunting down the right vineyards, and partnering with the right sorts of producers, farmers and viticulturists, who will help him to achieve his vision of inspiration.
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Perhaps a notable addition to this process is that he refuses to work with growers who don’t share his long term vision for a sort of agriculture that exhibits respect for existing ecosystems, and seeks to restore more than it depletes. He has been known, on more than one occasion, to turn down an ideal vineyard site or vineyard expansion on account of the negative environmental impact it might have had.

Even more strikingly, this ethos of sustainability extends not just to the vineyard environments in which he works, but also to the people that he employs, and the relationships that he cultivates. The end result of all this is a profound sense of respect for others in everything that he does.

That said, one also gets the impression that he doesn’t suffer fools gladly. Because his striving for excellence is as ruthless as his desire to show consideration. Mindsets that don’t cohere to this may find the Damascene experience slightly uncomfortable.

Because, if Jean Smit can be faulted for anything, it is that his relentless intentionality and sincerity carries with them an almost unnerving intensity. This, however, is something all luxury seekers should welcome. For if my theory that sincerity and excellence combine to communicate true luxury, then there is quite simply no other way to be.

Jean Smit has made his thoughts on pairing granite soils with Cabernet Sauvignon quite clear. The fruit for this wine was sourced from three very different vineyards, but the uniting factors that link them all are the granitic outcrops in which they’re planted.

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And honestly, it’s hard to imagine a purer expression of Stellenbosch Cabernet Sauvignon.

Powerful, concentration elements of blackcurrant, roasted black cherry, graphite, and concrete dust are all tied together with softer aromas of blueberries and purple flowers.

Structure and purity are supreme, and complexity will only build with time.

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An intellectually satisfying 94 points.