Grapes of graft

Some 25 years ago, three young German brothers arrived in Canterbury and unwittingly helped to launch its wine industry. Now, the Giesen brothers are planning to sell up. MIKE CREAN reports.

The Giesen brothers are a pragmatic trio.

Not for them romantic images of pioneering Canterbury winemaking. No notions of challenging traditional farming staples. No misty-eyed reminiscences of how they countered the great conservative knocking machine that insisted "you can't grow grapes in Canterbury".

Theo, Alex and Marcel Giesen see themselves as German immigrants who arrived seeking adventure in their 20s, who were surprised at the lack of good wine, who "had a go" at producing their own and who, through hard work and trial and error, succeeded beyond their dreams.

The Giesens planted grapes on a small block of land at Burnham in 1981, expanded their vineyards into Marlborough a decade later and have built their wine company into one of New Zealand's top six.

Every day, tankers haul wine from their 200 hectares of prime Wairau Valley grape country to their new bottling, packing and management plant at Sockburn, Christchurch. More than 90 per cent of the product is exported.

The Giesens get a kick out of seeing their wine on shop shelves and restaurant tables around the world.

Marcel recalls the thrill he felt when overhearing a waiter recommend Giesen's sauvignon blanc in a New York restaurant. The bottle he showed might have come from one of the 8000 cases a year his company exports to Manhattan alone.

Theo feels a sense of achievement from the sustainable and non- exploitative creation of a product from bare land. He is proud of "amassing a huge pot, in financial terms".

Alex laughs at the memory of a short-tempered Customs official at Brisbane Airport who switched on the charm when she saw the name on his passport and asked if he was connected to the winemakers. His 12 and 13-year- old daughters commented on how nice the woman suddenly became.

Nevertheless, a quarter of a century after starting from nothing, the brothers are calling it a day, putting the winery on the market. They have worked closely together, overcoming occasional disagreements and maintaining family unity. They managed to settle out of court an acrimonious dispute over commission on a land deal in 2004. Now they want to follow independent pursuits while they are still young enough.

I t all began when eldest brother Theo visited New Zealand in 1978 on his OE, and walked the Milford Track. He took glowing reports of New Zealand back to his family in Germany.

They were thinking of emigrating and had considered Australia, although reports of its heat and wildlife put them off.

Theo and Alex made the move to New Zealand, with their father, a hotel owner, in 1980. They had been stonemasons in Germany and had lived also in Northern Italy. They planned to set up in the masonry trade in Christchurch. It did not take them long to change their minds.

Wine had always been an integral part of their lives. They loved it. They enjoyed dabbling in grape-growing and winemaking as a hobby. The lack of wines available in New Zealand and the poor quality of what was produced here appalled them.

Alex grimaces as he recalls: "New Zealanders were selling muller thurgau as riesling".

Winemaking was established around Auckland and in Hawkes Bay, and was just starting in Marlborough, although the South Island was seen as "frontier country" and climatically unsuitable.

The orthodox wisdom was that you could not grow grapes in Canterbury, while to consider Central Otago was a sure sign of lunacy.

"There was a high level of scepticism, but it came from tradition and that has to be respected. Farmers saw no reason to try other ventures," Alex says.

But the scene was not all negative. He and Theo quickly became acquainted with a group of enthusiastic doctors who had planted the first vineyard at Halswell, and with the Mundy brothers' and Danny Schuster's venture at Belfast, St Helena. They were encouraged by viticulture projects at Lincoln University.

New Zealanders were starting to move away from drinking fortified wines (typically local versions of sherry and port) and were moving into imported wines, such as Blue Nun and Nederburg.

"We found New Zealanders very keen to learn and eager to better themselves and be up with what was happening in Europe," Alex says.

The introduction of wide-bodied jets had boosted air travel and young Kiwis had begun to fly to Europe.

"They saw what Europe had and they came home and they said `why can't we have this here?'"

The brothers felt the urge to have a go at growing grapes and making wine. They had little experience or knowledge, so they "networked" with people who could advise them, to find out as much as they could.

Most of all, says Theo, they found a refreshing lack of red tape. Knowing the stifling effect of regulations and prohibitions on land-use in Germany, they could barely believe how easily they could buy a plot of land and plant grapes on it in New Zealand.

In hindsight, Theo says, they would have been better to start in Marlborough. However, a couple of paddocks were for sale at Burnham. The soil and weather conditions were similar to Belfast's. Help was available free from Lincoln University and the government-funded viticulture research agency, which were keen to improve the quality of New Zealand wines.

The brothers studied wineries in the North Island. Everywhere they went, they were struck by the friendliness and camaraderie, and the willingness of everyone to help newcomers get started.

The Giesens planted what was then the southern-most vineyard in the world, across the main trunk railway and State Highway 1 from Burnham Army Camp. Marcel and their mother joined them in 1983.

Lack of money prevented them installing irrigation and severe drought in 1982-83 nearly crippled them. It was a tough introduction.

"We trusted in the rainfall statistics. We took risks. We were young and stupid," Theo says.

"We learned by trial and error," Alex says. "We were totally radical. There was no point being scared. You don't think of failure. We had some reservations but, in the end, you have to work."

Lincoln University Professor Richard Rowe was closely involved with the Giesens from the start. He says their greatest attribute was the ability to learn from their mistakes.

"They learned very fast. They never made the same mistake twice. And they showed great stickability."

Their first wine was "not great", partly because of the mixed quality of grapes they bought to supplement their own, and partly because winemaker Marcel had had "very limited tutelage" at that stage, Rowe says.

So Marcel was sent to study under a master winemaker in Germany and return in time for the next vintage. Rowe says this was the turning point. The Giesens produced "wonderful wines" from then. Marcel became "a superb maker of white wines", while a top maker of red wines, also German, was hired from Central Otago.

Their father supported them through the establishment stages, both financially and with his knowledge of wines and of marketing in Europe, from his experience in hotels.

Theo says gaining a place in the market was almost as difficult as dealing with drought. Wholesale buyers told the Giesens to develop a market, and then they would stock their wines. The brothers worked hard with sales from the winery, in-store tastings, displays at A&P shows and personal approaches to restaurants.

"It was never easy. We had to change people's habits. New Zealand companies still have to do this in overseas markets," says Alex.

Theo says a Kiwi couple calling at the winery and buying a dozen assorted bottles was big business for them in those days.

Then German tourists in campervans began calling. They would have three weeks in the South Island and, after tasting, would buy three cases to last them on their trip.

Rowe says part of the marketing problem dated back to the unimpressive first vintage.

"People had very long memories. That made it hard. I defended them (Giesens) because their later wines were nothing like their first ones."

He says the Giesens showed astuteness in moving to Marlborough, because the reputation for Marlborough sauvignon blancs was so high, it was difficult to compete with.

As the company has grown, the brothers have employed managers for each aspect of the business, and a general manager.

They sold the original vineyards at Burnham. Last year, they moved into new premises at Sockburn, preferring a Christchurch headquarters because the city was home and because of proximity to the Port of Lyttelton and access to local markets.

Theo says they have worked through times of huge change in New Zealand. He sees even more change ahead, as the wine industry continues to grow. This will bring new opportunities and challenges, which new owners can face.

The brothers remain the sole owners of Giesen Wines. They say buyer interest is high. But if they don't get their price, they will carry on.

And if they do get their price? Theo and Alex will not say what their plans are. Marcel has established his own vineyard at Waikari, in North Canterbury.

Rowe is impressed by their commitment to the South Island.

"They came here for the long-term. They are proud of their German heritage, but they are so dedicated to being New Zealanders."

He sees a German influence in the Giesens' determined, step-by-step approach. He sees an Italian influence in their strong family structure.

The Giesens have inspired generations of students at Lincoln University and played a significant part in the development of New Zealand's wine industry. They are a model of the positive impact immigration can have in this country, Rowe says.

- © Fairfax NZ News