Steady as she goes

IS REDMAN Wines conservative? You suspect so, although you broach the subject with caution because clearly the young-ish man in front of you - Bruce Redman - who has to be perhaps in his late 40s, doesn't appear conservative. He's not wearing brown pants and appears to be up with the latest trends because his mobile is set (politely) to some silent feature that not only alerts him that a call is coming through but tells him who is calling. You know this because he keeps handing it to his son, Dan, 26, to take a message.

Bruce and his brother Mal have now been at the helm of Redman Wines in Coonawarra long enough (since 1982 in fact) to have done something wildly non-conservative, a break from their past. Have they moved into screwcaps? No. Have they been tempted, as others have in their home town of Coonawarra, to delve into alternative varieties? Perhaps a little tempranillo, a smidge of sangiovese? That's another no. Have they dared to deviate from their father and grandfather before them in winemaking or viticulture. No, not really.

It's clear that, as Redman celebrates its 100th birthday this year, jumping feet-first into every trend or new wave wine happening isn't in the Redman genes. "I've got to say we've tended to be pretty conservative in our approach," concedes Bruce. "We're very conscious of our history and the style we've made over the years."

For Redman's loyal customers, that's good news. There will be no lashings of new oak in some flashy, fruit-driven vehicle that hits 15 per cent alcohol. Not on their watch. In fact, it's tempting to suggest that should the Redmans continue in the same winemaking groove, their particularly subtle, well-structured wines will be back in style with the fashionistas in no time. And that's a good thing. To Bruce and Mal it's not a matter of changing for the sake of change. "Any changes we have made," says Bruce, "have been gradual and well thought out and well planned out rather than reactive."

Taste a 1976 Redman ‘claret' (as the shiraz was famously called back then) or a 1976 cabernet sauvignon and compare them to today's. The only thing alerting you to any significant difference in the glass is the year itself, the way the weather was during the growing season and at picking. I suspect it gives many Redman loyalists a nice inner glow to know that the line has been preserved.

The Redman ‘line' began with Bill Redman, who, as a 14-year-old lad, travelled from his birthplace at Naracoorte to nearby Coonawarra in search of work. It was 1901 and he was lucky to be employed by John Riddoch, the first person to see and act on the region's wine potential. Bill rose to the position of head cellarman and in 1908 he took his knowledge and along with his brother Robert purchased 16 hectares of vineyard and started making wine that was sold in bulk to Tolleys and Woodley Wines, among others.

In 1945, Bill's son Owen joined the company and by 1954 the Redmans were bottling some of their production under their own label, Rouge Homme - French for ‘red man'. In 1965, Rouge Homme was sold to Lindemans and the Redman father and son team moved to a smaller nine-hectare vineyard. In the following year, Redman Wines was born. The distinctive yellow label was there from the start (although it was more a parchment tone back then) as was the now familiar bold red letters "Redman". Mal and Bruce joined the company in 1982 and young Dan (Bruce's eldest) in 2001.

The Redman style is based on an almost antiquated raison d'etre - antiquated, that is, by the standards of many wines these days. The Redman reds (they make no whites) are built for ageing - up to 20 years! Their philosophy is about making red wines that are the colour of red, not black. They usually come in at around 13 to 14 per cent alcohol, so they might even be classified moderate in alcohol, although they're not as low as the wines made by Bill or Owen. "Grandpa used to talk about making good claret and back then it had to be between 10.5 and 11 baume. Times have changed a little bit," laughs Bruce.

Big, old oak barrels play their role during maturation and over the years there's been the introduction of a little new oak, around 10 per cent. For the shiraz, the new oak is a mix of American and French and for the cabernet and cabernet merlot it's all French. 

If Bruce and Malcolm have made a change it's to make their wines just a little friendlier in their youth. But there is still the expectation that despite the richer colour and plummier fruit evident in recent vintages (quite noticeable in the new release 2005 shiraz, which at 14.4 per cent alcohol is the ripest shiraz ever released) they will age. That is not negotiable.

It's also why the Redmans don't - and won't - use screw caps. If screw caps actually slow down the ageing process, as it is often argued, then they say it would take even longer for their firmly structured reds to reach optimum drinking potential. So corks it is. "One of the reasons we are sticking with cork is our wines really need to develop at a quicker rate than screw cap would allow them to develop," says Bruce. He puts forward the 1996 shiraz as strong evidence. It is 12 years old but the tannin structure is still taut, the fruit is only now opening to show some red-berried spiciness. There's little obvious oak or alcohol (it's just 12.8 per cent!) and there's real astringency. For Bruce, it's a matter of trying to remain constant in a world of change.

But this year there is a newcomer among the Redman flock: The Redman. A wine especially commissioned to celebrate the Redman centenary, it was originally going to be a shiraz/cabernet blend - just like some of those early Redman "clarets", but when it came down to the tasting bench it finished up a cabernet/shiraz/merlot blend. The vintage is 2002, making it a six-year-old wine on release - just like in the old days. It's a study in subtlety and texture and the good news is The Redman ($70) is going to be produced annually.

Well, what do you know? Some things do change at Redman ...