Wine is the most transversal “material” I know. I’ve bonded with people and warmed up even the most hostile environments simply by steering the conversation toward wine. More and more, I feel that wine is a sort of social “glue”: if you throw it into the middle, it always works.
In recent times, I’ve taken part in many events about wine, tourism, and wine tourism, and it seems—I repeat seems—that the need to use a different, simpler, more immediate language has now become essential.
Yet, on one hand, I see this need being acknowledged, while on the other hand I notice a certain slowness in tackling this change.
Perhaps because discussing a change in language requires first identifying who the target audience is. Personally, I would identify three possible recipients: professionals, beginners, and young people.
For the first group, I don’t have much to say, as I believe the current communication style is already well calibrated for producers, journalists, sommeliers, and oenologists. The approach, however, should be different—again, in my opinion—for beginners and young people.
I would also add a fourth type of audience, which I would define as “transversal,” since it must share characteristics with all the other groups: those involved in wine tourism.
Returning to the topic of language, I personally approached wine much more recently than my tasting companions. Friends from whom I have learned a lot, and without whom my knowledge—despite being a sommelier—would be much more limited.
My first thought was that I did not want to do what so many others were already doing better than me. I’m lucky to spend time with people who can identify grape variety, vintage, and producer blind in the time it takes to eat an appetizer. Could I ever compete with them? Absolutely not.
Besides, I come from the world of communication. Yes, wine is great, but what fascinates me are stories, people, curiosities. As well as telling wine to people who know little about it, or talking about it in contexts where wine never had a place. Always studying, though, never putting aside the desire—and the need—to grow and better understand what we are talking about.
During the strict lockdown, I had a lot of fun.
A brochure, an idea, the paper shop downstairs for the packaging, a small contract with a courier, and off we went… about twenty online tastings bringing together producers, journalists, sommeliers, and entertainers. Small moments of sharing in which, despite the semi-serious approach, there was room both for fun and for “serious things,” always with the utmost respect for the product, the producers, and the professionals involved.
Do we need a different language? I think so. In my view, it’s necessary to gain attractiveness in other markets.
The world of wine wants to update itself, claims to want to update itself, but then communicates mostly in a traditional way. Of course, there are those who communicate using a different language and a different image, blending tradition and innovation, but in my opinion they are exceptions.
I conclude by saying that if wine and wine tourism are indeed strategic sectors for our country, then language should take two distinct paths: a technical language for professionals, and a simple, engaging—dare I say fun—one for everyone else.
Today, the word “wine” means many things: production, image, distribution, tasting, marketing, tourism. Can there be a single professional capable of covering all these skills? In my opinion, no.
What we need is a healthy and productive “contamination,” or if you prefer a different word, “collaboration,” between the professional figures involved. But we must also acknowledge that sometimes marketing can cost more than the product itself, and that not everyone who works in marketing can have the expertise of those who have lived in the world of wine for years. 😊
