Wine and Art: A Modern Intersection in Movies, Paintings, and Literature
Wine, like art, transcends the boundaries of mere consumption or creation; it is an experience that stimulates the senses, evokes emotions, and tells stories. Throughout history, the worlds of oenology and art have been intertwined, both concerned with the complexities of human experience, memory, and expression. Interestingly, the vocabulary used in both fields often overlaps, with descriptors for wine echoing the language of visual art, literature, and film. Terms like “body,” “texture,” “bouquet,” and “finish” in wine tasting find their parallel in the lexicon of the artist, the writer, and the filmmaker. This article explores how the linguistic and conceptual frameworks of oenology often resemble those of art, deepening the symbolic connection between wine and creative expression.
Wine in Painting: A Modern Expression
In the world of contemporary painting, the vocabulary of wine is frequently used to describe the sensory experiences evoked by color, texture, and composition. Just as wine critics use terms like “full-bodied” or “silky” to describe a wine’s weight or mouthfeel, artists often speak of their work in similar terms.
David Hockney, for example, uses bold colors in his works that evoke the deep, lush reds of a glass of Château Lafite Rothschild. The painter might describe his use of these colors as “full-bodied,” a term typically associated with wine that has a rich, complex structure. This metaphorical crossover between the worlds of painting and oenology shows how both artists and wine critics are attuned to the physicality and complexity of their respective mediums. For Hockney, the colors in his landscape paintings resonate like the layered notes of a well-aged Bordeaux, with “velvety” reds and “spicy” oranges dancing on the canvas.
A powerful example of wine’s symbolic presence in painting can be seen in Paul Cézanne’s The Card Players (1890-1892). In this iconic work, which depicts a group of peasants engaged in a card game, Cézanne’s use of color and texture evokes a sensory richness that mirrors the complexity of wine. The figures are often described as having a “hearty” presence, much like a robust red wine such as Château Margaux—the weight and solidity of the painted forms suggesting a full-bodied character. The earthy tones and subdued palette in the painting recall the deep, almost tactile qualities of wine, where each brushstroke feels like a sip that lingers and settles. Much like the characters’ quiet intensity and focus on their game, the painting invites the viewer to savor its details slowly, as one would savor a fine wine.
Image credit: https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/435868
The concept of “finish” in wine tasting—a descriptor for the aftertaste that lingers after a sip—has an artistic parallel in painting. Just as a wine with a long, lingering finish can leave a lasting impression, an artwork that lingers in the viewer’s mind can be described as having a “long finish.” Cézanne’s The Card Players exemplifies this: the way the figures and the atmosphere of the scene seem to remain with the viewer, much like the subtle aftertaste of a well-aged wine. The lingering intensity of the piece’s composition mirrors the sense of fulfillment or reflection that comes after a thoughtful tasting experience.
Artists also speak of a wine’s “bouquet” to describe its complex aromas—a term that closely mirrors the way visual artists talk about the “layers” or “depth” of their work. In both cases, what’s important is the depth of sensory engagement, where complexity and subtlety in wine or art invite closer inspection and nuanced interpretation.
In literature, wine often becomes a metaphor for more than just indulgence; it is a symbol of memory, transformation, and human connection. Here, too, the vocabulary of oenology mirrors that of literary analysis, with terms that highlight the complexity and emotional resonance of both art forms.
In François Mitterrand’s Le Vins de la France (1978), the language of wine conveys a deep connection to French history and cultural identity. In discussing wines like Château Margaux, Mitterrand describes them in terms of “structure” and “balance”—attributes not unlike those used to critique literature. A writer may describe a novel’s pacing or narrative arc as “balanced” or “well-structured,” just as a sommelier might discuss how the tannins, acidity, and fruitiness of a wine complement one another to create harmony. This shared language reveals how both wine and literature are experienced through complex, multi-layered frameworks that require attentiveness to subtleties and context.
In Proust’s In Search of Lost Time (1913-1927), the famous “madeleine moment” is frequently echoed by the narrator’s reflection on the aroma of wine, often compared to the complexity of his memories. The nuanced descriptors used in wine tasting, such as “earthy,” “floral,” or “fruity,” find their way into Proust’s writing, where he describes memories in similarly sensory terms. The act of tasting a wine becomes a metaphor for the act of remembering, as the layers of flavor or fragrance evoke forgotten or buried emotions. Wine, then, functions as a gateway to understanding time, much like Proust’s artful exploration of memory.
Wine in Cinema: Modern Film and Its Symbolism
In cinema, the vocabulary of oenology also plays an essential role in enhancing the narrative, deepening characters’ emotional states, and reflecting broader themes. Directors and screenwriters often borrow wine terminology to describe a film’s structure, tone, or impact on the viewer, creating a connection between the act of tasting wine and the experience of watching a film.
In Bong Joon-ho’s Parasite (2019), wine plays a pivotal role in highlighting the stark class divide. The Park family’s enjoyment of a rare bottle of Château Pétrus reflects their refined taste, while the Kim family’s humble existence is contrasted by their lack of access to such luxuries. The presence of wine is often described in cinematic terms that mirror wine-tasting vocabularies: “full-bodied,” “complex,” or “smooth.” In this way, the film becomes a metaphorical “tasting,” with the audience left to absorb the aftertaste of the social dynamics at play, just as one would reflect on the lingering flavors of an exceptional wine.
Similarly, in “Uncorked” (2020), the protagonist’s journey to become a sommelier mirrors the vocabulary used in both the wine and film worlds. He must learn to distinguish wines not only by their flavors but by their “finish,” or how they resonate with him over time—much like the way a film’s ending lingers in the viewer’s mind. The process of tasting wine becomes an artistic act of discovery, much as cinema invites viewers to decode meaning, emotional depth, and narrative structure.
In Wes Anderson’s The French Dispatch (2021), wine is a recurring motif that complements the film’s layered aesthetic and storytelling. The visual composition of the film is described as “crisp,” a term often used in wine-tasting to describe the clean, fresh acidity of a white wine like Sancerre. The film’s scenes of intellectual discourse, laced with the sophisticated enjoyment of wine, parallel the intellectual stimulation and emotional satisfaction that comes from a fine bottle of wine. Anderson’s use of wine terminology to describe the tone of the film reflects the way both wine and art engage with the viewer, offering depth, layers, and complex pleasures.
The overlap between oenological and artistic vocabulary speaks to the deep connection between wine and creativity. Just as a wine critic might describe a wine’s “bouquet” or “finish,” artists, writers, and filmmakers use similar descriptors to evaluate the texture, emotional impact, and complexity of their work. Whether through the full-bodied richness of a Château Margaux or the layered visual complexity of Cézanne’s The Card Players, both art and wine invite us to savour, reflect, and explore the complexities of sensory experience.