The Emperor unclothed? Robert Parker under scrutiny

I have never met the Palate of Baltimore, although I feel I know him well through his writings – books (I have most of them), The Wine Advocate (subscriber since August, 2000) and web forum (daily lurker). He is the world’s voice of wine, and as such influences styles and makes prices in ways unseen before the advent of computers and the 100-point scoring system. He remains both an enigma and a challenge. How did one person come to wield such power, not least in a commodity that relates so much to personal taste? And how to catch out a man who “has a real and rare talent as a taster; an enviable ability to remember what he has had, and what he thought of it” (Giles MacDonough, The Times, October 27, 2007)?

The Hill of Hermitage

The current Parker furore follows the publication in France of a book called Robert Parker: Anatomie d’un mythe. My French dictionary translates mythe as ‘myth, legend’. The myth in question is Parker’s commitment to tasting all the wines he reviews, and to be truly independent of the wine producers. This latter accusation is particularly serious, as it calls into question Parker’s principal (and principled) calling card, that he personally buys the wines he drinks, and tastes without being ‘bribed’ by the producer’s offers of gifts (a complaint made by American commentators about some English wine critics, although Parker himself keeps out of such spats).

What is new about this dose of Parker bashing is the source, one Hanna Agostini, the author of the book. Ms Agostini was previously employed by Mr Parker as his French office manager and translator, but was dismissed from that position in 2003 after 8 years. There were said to be allegations of false accounting. Unsurprisingly some of those who have benefited most from Parker’s positive reviews have come to his defence. These include Gérard Perse of Chateau Pavie in Saint-Émilion, who apparently wants to put up a statue to Parker in Bordeaux.

Inevitably the truth will be impossible to discern. The Parker website naturally comes to his defence, with messages of support and also clarification, with around 160 contributions to date - perhaps the book doesn’t actually say he fails to taste wine he reviews; hospitality goes with the territory; it was Tristan Lurton (of the Lurton dynasty) who suggested the statue! The whole affair looks much like a storm in a teacup, and good oxygen to get the book sold (if not read).

It therefore seems only fair to reflect on Parker’s huge, and I would suggest, frequently beneficial role in the world of wine criticism. His American roots, which emphasise fruit and flavour (and low yields) over green tannins and leanness, are to be valued. Inevitably some have taken this to the extremes of over-extraction and high alcohol levels. His increasing reverence for Chateau Haut-Brion, for example, highlights his concern for balance and finesse. Yet his high-90s scores for particular types of wines in Bordeaux have driven the ‘Parkerisation’ phenomenon which makes it so much harder in a competitive market to turn out traditional claret – modest alcohol and tannins which need time.

Parker’s best book is probably his The Wines of the Rhone Valley and Provence. My copy came as a wedding anniversary present in July, 1988. It reminds us that the Rhone wines are probably his first and greatest love, even if the 1982 Bordeaux vintage made his name and reputation. The Rhone is the place where he shines brightest, unaffected by the politics and shenanigans of more complex deals and dealers. Unlike his book on Burgundy, which fails to convince, his treatise on the Rhone and Provence is engaging and razor sharp (it was my mistake not to check the entry before visiting Marc Sorrel recently, where I mentioned my regard for Mr Parker – he had been banished from visiting the domaine for some years after negative reviews of the 1982 vintage).

Château Beaucastel

The other major issue of note is Parker’s recent decision to open up the debate on wine styles. In employing new faces (and writers) for his publications, he appears to be throwing down a challenge to those who would denigrate his activities. In particular, the move to bring the able, amiable and unpretentious young English critic Neal Martin is to be commended. As someone who relied on his thoughtful and sophisticated reviews on his wine-journal.com website, I feel dislocated at present, as I have yet to pay to read them on eRobertParker.com. Martin brings a different (European?) slant, particularly in his assessment of Red Bordeaux. Whether his appointment is a further attempt by Parker to protect his empire (by recruiting competitors) is for discussion.

The ‘Emperor of Wine’ remains in place, his empire intact, his reputation much as it was before. He will always court controversy, whether over his championing of certain controversial wines (Ch Pavie 2003 being a case in point), vintages or wine regions, or his willingness to confront those with contrary views (Pavie and Jancis Robinson). What happens when he takes more of a back seat in the business is hard to predict, although it is unlikely that any single wine critic in the future will ever have his degree of influence.