Wine & Roses

A sojourn in Italy gave the O’Connors a taste for winemaking. It also gave them a taste for the classical Italian architecture that graces the splendid house they built in their Hawke’s Bay vineyard.

Words: Sue Moody  Photographs: Matthew Williams

Rosemary O'Connor and dog Flynn survey
their Matariki vineyard in Hawke's Bay.

IN THE WINE WORLD there’s a custom of planting a red rose at the end of each row of vines. The theory is that, if diseases attack, the roses will die first. Modern viticultural techniques have superceded such picture-postcard practices. "Roses need more water than grapes anyway," says Rosemary O’Connor. "We do have them in the vineyard at home and they look gorgeous, but it’s a bit of an old trick." Rosemary and John O’Connor’s winery, Matariki, lies on the outskirts of Hastings in Hawke’s Bay’s renowned grape-growing district.

One myth to which they happily subscribe concerns angels’ tears. "If something is lost in the winery, it’s deemed to be a gift to the angels," explains Rosemary. "They say that the angels come and take away the wine. Actually wine is lost through evaporation because the barrels are porous. Ullage is kept for topping them up."

The couple could be excused for preferring the less prosaic version of the myth. Much of their winemaking wisdom was learnt in the colourful, custom-filled vineyards of Italy. In the late 1970s, early in their marriage and with two little children, Rosemary and John lived for three years in the northern region of Reggio Emilia. When they returned to New Zealand it was with a passion for growing grapes and making wine, a commitment to hard graft and an appreciation of the Italian aesthetic. "Wine is a sensory thing and making it is an artistic process," says Rosemary. "The components are the same but whoever puts them together does so in a different way."

One of John’s favourite aphorisms is: "The soil is the soul of the vineyard." Happily, he’s in a position to know. With the rugged build of a front rower he looks more like a Speights than a syrah man. He already had a professional interest in the dirt – other than the footy field – when he accepted an invitation to decamp with the family to Italy in order to coach and play rugby – and learn about winemaking.

"In New Zealand I had been playing so much rugby that I ended up working as a contractor in drain-laying. It brought me practically close to the soil and I began to take an active interest in soil types." During the family’s time overseas, John was invited to study at the Geisenheim Institute in Germany where research was being undertaken into controlling the vigour of the vine through soil management.

It stood him in good stead for his next step: the purchase of 50 hectares of stony soil on Gimblett Road. Ironically, in the official view the land was deemed uneconomic and worthless and the 1970s had seen the establishment of neighbouring Flaxmere as a satellite settlement for Hastings. "The land was available when we came back. At the time it was desolate – like a desert. In fact it’s a tapestry of soil which sits on the old Ngaruroro river-bed – deep gravels overlaid with small quantities of fine sandy loam, sand and stones," explains John.

Now the site of a 60-hectare, 500-tonne-capacity vineyard, with state-of-the-art buildings and cellar door, Matariki has made its mark. "The nuances of different minerals, the amount of sunshine and heat, the effects of cooling at night all contribute. I analyzed the soil structure and contours of the vineyard prior to planting, then matched each unique plot to a selected classic grape variety.

"We farm flavours. My job is out in the vineyard, walking the rows, tasting the grapes and deciding when we should be picking. We’re working with nature to produce the best result each year and trying to read the plant’s mind.

"You have to have the courage of your convictions to sign off on 5000 cases of wine, but we do have a string of gold medals and international trophies to our name so we must have had some success."

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