Il Paradiso di Frassina

Although he has settled in for the long haul, Carlo was not technically born a vintner. He spent his early years working as a solicitor in Milan. Diana, a photographer, has been employed by the National Geographic and still works freelance. Paradiso, begun in 1999, is not a large operation, producing only 40,000 bottles a year on eleven hectares of land (roughly thirty to forty acres.)

The size of the operation allows for more individualized control over the finished product as it is easier to monitor the maturity of individual grapes, and a working environment that operates like a family. Carlo speaks of one of his “younger workers” with a laugh, a man who is seventy five years old and sometimes gets confused about the different grapes. The joy with which they approach work in this place adds to the quality of wine, he adds. Carlo accurately writes, “the effect made by the music spreading through the vines is highly evocative and the landscape takes on a fairy-tale atmosphere.” Indeed, to this observer, it seems that whether or not the sounds emanating from the speakers affect the vines, it is clear that they contribute to an overall atmosphere at the vineyard that can be nothing but good. And what can be more desirable than a pleasant place to live and work?

However, it appears that the music has a greater effect than merely providing a romantic atmosphere. The University of Florence is currently (2006) doing a study at Paradiso which considers a number of factors, including the health of the vine and leaves and the sugar content of the grapes. The vines in question have been subjected to five years of music. The control to the experiment is the same types of vines set behind a screen that shields them from the musical waves of the greater vineyard.

After much experimentation, Carlo selected his current Mozart-heavy rotation for its full balance of harmony. After testing out organ suites which he found too strong, even the full blown Magic Flute, Carlo settled on violin orchestral music. Its even composition, themes that are not too strong, not too weak, send well-balanced waves straight to the grapes he claims. A happy side effect, the music also serves as a natural pesticide. Why should an animal venture into an unfamiliar environment when surrounded by a wealth of vineyards to pillage? Carlo has taken to playing symphonies by night in the summer to discourage visits by wild boar and deer. Tchaikovsky, he claims is the most effective.

Certainly, people in this area are accustomed to the quirks of individual wine makers, who may treat vines as members of the family. Perhaps more shocking to his neighbors is Carlo’s foray into mixing grapes. While Paradiso produces its own Brunello (about 5,000 bottles) as well as a Rosso di Montalcino (christened “Gea” after his daughter, born the same year as the vineyard) exclusively from Sangiovese grapes, Carlo directs his passion in winemaking toward a special blend. His Do is produced not with one grape, as is typical to the Brunello dominated region, but an astonishing twelve! Many shake their heads incredulously at the thought, but to Carlo, the infinite combinations offered by the amalgam of grapes offer an opportunity to refine his own “symphony.” The players, six Tuscan grapes of which three are Sangiovese clones, and six Burgundians, each offer their own individual personalities to the vintage, one that is ever changing. For example, while the heavy rain in 2005 was not good for Italian grapes, it produced an excellent French crop, whose flavors may be better felt in the blend from that year.

Every year, Carlo sits down with longtime friend Claudio Basla of Altesino vineyard in front of fifty glasses of wine, one from each barrique where the grapes have been fermenting for twelve to fifteen months. What follows is a long process of sampling and mixing that ultimately results in the year’s Do blend. Carlo considers this the most important moment, two “alchemists” led by the instincts of the mouth and nose. Deana also takes part, as Carlo claims women make the best winemakers. Such a trait is not a question of education but rather a sense that is honed from childhood, a sensual memory that allows one to focus on flavor. A multitude of flavors play into a finished bottle of Do. Carlo chooses the French barriques as opposed to larger Italian barrels because French wood offers a more delicate flavor. Hints of vanilla in wine, he shares, are flavors of the barrel and not of the grape. With Do, the flavor may adjust itself from the start of a bottle to the finish, ranging from flowers, to tobacco, even eucalyptus, to name a few. Carlo emphasizes, “wine is the only living beverage!” a fact that inspires his continued efforts. He envisions a lifetime of these explorations in creation. When he has refined Do to what he believes is its ultimate melodious destiny, he will move on to Re, then Me, and so on. And a nice lifetime it will be, nestled on a hill below Montalcino, amid the wafting sounds of Mozart and the flavors of the vine.