I am an adherent, and interrogator, of the notion that great art is infused with the essence of its creator. I’m not talking style, form or genre, but rather the intrinsic link between what the artwork says and what the artist believes. The question being: how evident is this signature?
Is it, for instance, possible to ascertain from Matthew Herbert’s catalogue of experimental electronica that he’s a human-rights advocate and social critic?Unhinged house music veering from danceable to discordant might not be the obvious template for revolutionary polemic, but Herbert samples his discourse, using the sounds made by malevolent multinationals and factory-farmed animals to construct beats and basslines. Ideology doesn’t inform the music. It is the music.
Of course, if you fail to hear all this, you can always access statements of intent that invariably accompany such works. And therein lies the flaw in this exercise. An artwork is hardly ever digested in a vacuum; there are very few blind tastings. Which is my segue into the follow-up question: how much of a whisky maker’s worldview makes it into the liquid? Impossible to say, but worth the wonder, which is where I’m going with this subjective take on a few great whisky personalities.
Jonathan Glaser - The Maverick
The person: When the iconic founder of Compass Box recently announced that he was moving on, whisky WhatsApp groups shed a collective tear. An indisputable trailblazer, Glaser’s legacy is a mixed bag of righteous rebellion, adamant advocacy and media mind games. Not one to go unnoticed, this audacious feather-ruffler made it his mission to push both boundaries and buttons. And his bottles stand out too. Designed by packaging experts Stranger & Stranger, their exquisite labels are emblazoned with fantastical names like Art & Decadence, Phenomenology and Flaming Heart, oh-so-tastefully appealing to more than mere taste.
The product: Compass Box has released a number of extraordinary whiskies, from the silken peat of No Name No. 1 to the fruity fullness of Myths & Legends II and the textured complexity of Three Year Old Deluxe. Core range releases like Orchard House and the Glasgow and Artist Blends are excellent dailies. It does feel that, of late, the brand’s hyperbolic hype has upstaged the liquid. Who knows, maybe with less fanfare, forthcoming drams will make more of a statement.
Andy Watts - The Magician
The person: In previous interviews with Watts I’ve always been encouraged by his generous enthusiasm. Asked to wear many hats by the James Sedgwick Distillery, he is the feather in the cap of South African whisky; the single reason our spirit is taken seriously on the world stage. Distilling with arcane-like instinct, he appears to appreciate detailed data as much as happy coincidence, blending science with magic. This almost accidental-but-always-in-control technique mirrors his backstory. He left England to play cricket for Boland in 1982, and whisky was never on the cards. But nobody told fate, and we’re all the better for it.
The product: Like the many facets of his life, Watts doesn’t produce one-track whiskies. He switches easily between grain and malt with the core range Three Ships expressions, and the multi-award-winning, truly delicious Bain’s Single Grain. When given the freedom to experiment, he uses all kinds of casks, most notably with the annual Master’s Collection, the Bain’s Founder’s Collection and releases for Private Barrel Co., of which the James Sedgwick Distillery 6 Year Old is an all-time favourite.
Mark Reynier - The Radical
The person: There are those artists who patrol the outer realms of our collective awe — the savant-garde, if you will. Think Björk’s layered musical output or Peter Greenaway’s multimedia film projects. In the whisky world, Reynier plays that role, and terroir is his stomping ground. I first heard him on Zoom at NPF Tasting Room, railing most eloquently against the industrialised uniformity of modern whisky. With Waterford, his newish distillery in the south of Ireland, he returns to what he believes are universal roots, repositioning whisky as the agricultural product it always has been. In a recent interview he continued where he left off, schooling me on ancient flavour profiles, farming relationships and wine making.
The product: Waterford whiskies taste relentless, almost confrontational, like Dr Frankenstein tinkering with monstrous new flavour profiles. The spirit performs backflips when peated, and the Heritage Hunter, Arcadian Barley is akin to sipping on an ancient mystery. You’d think his achievements at Bruichladdich — from Port Charlotte’s intricacies to Octomore’s intransigence — would be enough for one man. Thankfully not.
The Dewar Brothers - The Originals
The people: Back in 1880, brothers John Alexander and Thomas Robert took over Dewar’s from their recently departed father. The pair’s opposing personalities created an unexpected balance. The former was sensible and meticulous while the latter was a maverick, described as a raconteur and bon viveur. John took on the responsibilities of blending and business-building, while Tommy took to the road, turning into a supreme salesman with a flair for publicity. He hired bagpipers to blast away and attract crowds to his stand at an expo, installed a billboard made up of 1 400 coloured bulbs (the largest mechanical sign in Europe at the time), and claimed, in 1897, to have produced the first filmed commercial, featuring drunken, dancing Highlanders. Of course.
The product: My somewhat limited experience of Dewar’s involves a brief visit to its Aberfeldy Distillery, and its once-secret Scotch Egg Club. Adorned with bold statements and quirky quotes — written on boards and printed on badges that visitors can take with them — this unconventional, unexpected environment perfectly captures the spirit of Tommy’s eccentric shenanigans.
This article was first published in The Edit.
