New Yorker on Rodenstock, Jefferson bottles, etc

http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2007 ... fact_keefe

[Robin Garr]

http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2007/09/03/070903fa_fact_keefe

I'm trying to figure out whether I should be irritable about being able to see <I>New Yorker</i> articles online about four days before my print edition comes in the mail.

Thanks for the post though, Dale!

Starting in 1980, Rodenstock began holding lavish annual wine tastings, weekend-long affairs attended by wine critics, retailers, and various German dignitaries and celebrities. He opened scores of old and rare wines, all provided at his own expense

Michael Broadbent regularly attended Rodenstock events. In his book “Vintage Wine: Fifty Years of Tasting Three Centuries of Wines,” Broadbent acknowledges that it was through Rodenstock’s “immense generosity” that he was able to taste many of the rarest entries. Much of his section on eighteenth-century wines consists of notes from Rodenstock tastings.

But he [Broadbent] continued to maintain that the Jefferson bottles were real. In a way, Broadbent had little choice. He had based hundreds of tasting notes in his books and auction catalogues on wines supplied by Hardy Rodenstock. The notion that twentieth-century connoisseurs could testify to what an eighteenth-century wine tastes like depended on the integrity of Rodenstock, one of the primary suppliers of those wines. If Rodenstock was exposed as a fraud, the credibility of Broadbent, who had repeatedly certified Rodenstock’s findings, would suffer a considerable blow.

Thanks to Dale for posting this . . . very interesting article. I have no idea if Rodenstock is a fraud or not, but the snippets above reminded me of a television presentation I once saw about Mark Hofmann--who, among other things, made quite a living for himself forging historical documents related the LDS/Mormon Church as well as other US historical documents. According to the documentary, one of the ways he would build up a reputation for the forgeries he wished to sell was to first 'find' a number of other historical documents that were less valuable. He would kindly donate these lesser documents (that he had forged) to libraries and universities. Then when he had a big 'find' that he wanted to sell, experts from those libraries and institutions would be called upon to authenticate whether his big find was real. And so they would, comparing the handwriting et cetera of his new find, to the existing body of work known to exist--and that body of work of course included documents that he himself had forged and previously donated.

I obviously have no proof of Rodenstock's committing fraud myself, but the fact that he has continually refused to give the address in Paris where he supposedly discovered the TJ wines speaks volumes to me.

Jamie Goode's blog alerted me to this YouTube clip with David Molyneux-Berry MW, talking about conterfeit wines - might be of interest if you haven't seen it already.

-O-

Thanks for posting this article, Dale -- very interesting.

Jancis Robinson had a major article on the same subject last March in the FT, with some different spins on the story:

http://www.ft.com/cms/s/50c352fc-d34b-1 ... 10621.html

I especially liked the last paragraph of this extract; she doesn't know if the wine was fake or not, but whoever created it has her admiration and respect:

The billionaire William I. Koch, who is suing the German wine merchant Hardy Rodenstock for putting allegedly counterfeit bottles into circulation, is no stranger to litigation, having spent years locked in dispute with his brothers over the family oil company. Among his many other achievements he has financed, and helped crew, the winning America’s Cup boat in 1992 and is a lifelong collector of boats, art and wine. It was a request from the Boston Museum of Fine Art for documentation supporting the provenance of a “Jefferson bottle” that was to be included in a display of the billionaire’s collection at the musuem that alerted Koch to the possibility that some of his wine might be counterfeit. (Thomas Jefferson, the connoisseur president, kept detailed records of his purchases.) David Molyneux-Berry, a former head of Sotheby’s wine department, was called in to sniff out possible fakes in two of Koch’s cellars (a third warehouse crammed with painstakingly barcoded bottles is being prepared for inspection).

“Bill is not going to settle,” says Molyneux-Berry, “not like some people who have been defrauded and don’t want to look like idiots so they’ve taken compensation and handed back the bottles, bottles which the fraudsters simply put back on the market.”

Koch’s four Jefferson bottles, red and sweet white bordeaux supposedly from the 1784 and 1787 vintages bought by Jefferson, were supplied by Hardy Rodenstock. When I spoke to Rodenstock earlier this week, he maintains the Jefferson bottles are genuine, saying that in the mid-1980s he had been offered “about 30” bottles engraved ‘Th. J.’ from a bricked-up cellar in Paris by a vendor whose name, Rodenstock wearily says, he has forgotten.

The discovery of the Jefferson bottles caused, unsurprisingly, quite a stir in fine wine circles. In 1985, after subjecting a half-bottle to various tests, Christie’s auctioned a bottle of the Lafite 1787 for £105,000 (still the highest price ever paid for a bottle of wine) – although, unfortunately, it turned to vinegar after being displayed in the Forbes Museum upright under strong lights, which dried out the cork and fatally let air in. Two years later, the same auction house sold another bottle from the collection, this time a half-bottle of the Margaux 1784, to Marvin Shanken, publisher of the American magazine Wine Spectator.

Rodenstock, now 65, appeared on the fine wine scene in the 1980s and 1990s as a pop music entrepreneur who established a connection with one of Germany’s wine magazines and had built up an enviable cellar, investing heavily in the then unfashionable but incomparable sweet white bordeaux Château d’Yquem. He hosted a number of extraordinary wine events, three of which I attended.

In June 1985, six months before Christie’s offered the Lafite, I witnessed what we were told was the opening of the first red wine from the “Jefferson collection” at first growth Château Mouton-Rothschild in Bordeaux. A taste of a 1787 Branne Mouton, as the estate was then known, was ferried up to an ailing but delighted Baron Philippe de Rothschild in his bedroom above the tasting room by his grandson. The Baron’s cellarmaster, Raoul Blondin, had been expecting vinegar and became extremely excited by the unexpectedly toothsome reality. Michael Broadbent, of Christie’s, had predicted something “a bit acidic, a bit decayed”. But, in fact, once the treacle-brown liquid was shared between us, Rodenstock and a group of German wine lovers, the bouquet actually grew in the glass. The wine tasted as though port could have been added to it, so vigorous and rich was it. It was, undoubtedly, a delicious drink.

The following September, Broadbent and I also constituted the British contingent at an exceptional 12-course, 66-wine feast at Château d’Yquem in Sauternes where the pièce de resistance was an engraved flask dated at mid-19th century of a (rather tired) precursor of Yquem. (Rodenstock now says he has no memory of this wine, though he can remember that South America was the source.) Comte Alexandre de Lur-Saluces, who then owned the Yquem estate, told me Rodenstock owned far more vintages of Yquem than he did.

More than 100 of these were to emerge at the third and last Rodenstock event I witnessed, the culmination of a week-long series of tastings in Munich in 1998 devoted to Yquem, dating all the way back to those two Jefferson vintages (rather rank-tasting, I seem to remember). Fellow guests at the feast included France’s leading wine writer Michel Bettane; the Austrian glassmaker Georg Riedel; Italy’s most famous wine producer Angelo Gaja; and the German footballer Franz Beckenbauer.

By then, Molyneux-Berry’s doubts about Koch’s Jefferson bottles had become more widely shared. But when I raised the question of attribution in an article in the FT’s How To Spend It magazine, Rodenstock fired off copies of pages from auction catalogues explaining various provenances.

I have always found Rodenstock enigmatic. Could managing what Rodenstock now describes as “a few German pop singers” really have generated enough cash to buy all these bottles so generously opened? Then there was a strange episode when, for reasons I forget, we shared a ride in Bordeaux and he showed me with great pride, but for no obvious reason, a walnut he had stuffed with a condom. A telling display of dexterity and ingenuity perhaps?

It is thanks to Hardy Rodenstock, however, that I have had some of the most extraordinary tasting experiences of my life. I have no idea whether the bottle of Yquem 1811, the famous year of the comet, served in Munich was genuine, but I can assure you it was one of the most delicious liquids I have ever tasted, even if strangely raspberry-flavoured. Anyone who could create that has my respect, whoever they were.

Oh, the old "I FORGOT where I found the extraordinary treasure that I sold for a fortune" story. Now that makes sense!

Oh, the old "I FORGOT where I found the extraordinary treasure that I sold for a fortune" story. Now that makes sense!

Yes, it's so obvious in that regard, isn't it? For all the mucking about with carbon-dating and the rest, if Rodenstock was legitimate about what he claimed, he's certainly shown very little interest in demonstrating his integrity.
Conman. No question. What the wine actually is, who knows. But definitely not what it's purported to be.
cheers,
Graeme

Keith M., it was those quotes, and IIRC, one or two other that really opened my eyes. If Michael Broadbent has been tasting fake "very old" wines, then who if anyone can be considered an 'expert' in very old wine? Remember, Mr. Broadbent himself admitted that the most rare had Rodenstock's fingerprints all over them. Also, this points to a point that rears its ugly head once in a while-since Mr Broadbent works for an auction house that tends to gain with a big sale. Was there a blind eye turned, or was he just mistaken and taken advantage of? I find this whole affair most interesting.

Harry,
Broadbent had plenty of experience with old (19th cent.) wines before Rodenstock - the Glamis Castle/Rosbery sale unearthed quantity stashes of pre-phylloxera Bordeaux with impeccable provenance which Broadbent sold. Perhaps purchasing some of those wines led Rodenstock on to his subsequent 'quests' - he'd have had some idea what flavours to look for and, lets face it, holding some big tastings and getting all the influential critics along to participate was a masterstroke of PR. Possibly there were doubts even then* but he obviously correctly picked his audience.

Although, I imagine Broadbent probably regrets not being more circumspect now. Perhaps a consoling phone call from Hugh Trevor-Roper wouldn't go amiss!

*In Jancis' biography, there are a couple of phrases she uses when describing Rodenstock's tastings that leave just a little doubt about the fine smell of herring. "He knew they belonged to Jefferson because they had TH J engraved on them, you see." There's certainly the odd arched eyebrow in between the lines, although she never overtly suggested they were fakes.

cheers,
Graeme

Robinson says she had some doubts at the time of the tastings:

So, Jancis, do you think Hardy R is a fake? And, if he is, doesn't that make the wine trade look awfully foolish for buying that act all these years?

me:

It would presumably be legally dangerous to answer your first question directly. But if it were proved that he knowingly sold and served fake wines then it would reflect badly on all of us. However, while temporarily destabilising the fine wine market, the episode may prove to be usefully cathartic. Already the producers of wines such as Pétrus and DRC which are commonly targeted by counterfeiters have taken measures to make it much more difficult to make copies of their bottles and labels but we all probably need to be much more aware of the possibility of fakes. Let us hope this affair serves to make fine wine traders and dealers and auctioneers more cautious in authenticating and checking the provenance of the goods they sell.

That said, as I have written several times, the wines that I have been served by Hardy Rodenstock – a supposed 18th century Branne Mouton at Mouton in the mid 1980s, an extraordinary 12-course wine banquet at Ch d’Yquem in 1986 (both of these described in detail in my memoir Tasting Pleasure/Confessions of a Wine Lover) and the 1998 Yquemfest in Munich - gave me a huge amount of pleasure. Most of the wines were delicious. If some of them were fakes as I wondered at the time (though they certainly can’t all have been fakes), they were extraordinarily good fakes. For a time, Rodenstock moved in a tight-knit coterie of German-speaking wine lovers so if he was cheating, he was cheating his then buddies which seems very odd behaviour to me. Of course if fraud is proved, the real victims will not be hangers-on like me but those who paid him massive sums for fake bottles. I may wonder at the personal motivation but I suppose it is possible that sheer financial greed was at work.

As pointed out in the entry on adulteration and fraud in the Oxford Companion, wine has been a popular target for cheats for centuries because it is so difficult to establish authenticity of a liquid that can change over decades.

http://www.jancisrobinson.com/articles/yourturn060907_2

Well, that was one enjoyable read. Thanks for posting it Dale.

Robinson says
As pointed out in the entry on adulteration and fraud in the Oxford Companion, wine has been a popular target for cheats for centuries because it is so difficult to establish authenticity of a liquid that can change over decades.

As an aside, there's a mystery series by a Britsh author named David Wishart, set in Imperial Rome. Kind of Marlowe in a toga. The detective is a wine lover, and constantly tasting and commenting at wine shops (none of the appelations are familiar to me). But suspected fraud is a constant. This is a work of fiction, but charges of adulteration or misattribution are found in quite a few old texts.

Neat point, Dale.

Howard Goldberg mentioned another book concerning the Rodenstock affair:


[There's] a superficial resemblance to Thomas Mann’s 1954 novel Confessions of Felix Krull, Confidence Man. Mann’s story, begun in the Rhineland, focuses on the son of a Sekt producer. Rodenstock’s begins in Munich, and winedom is now asking if his specialty has been old claret or new monkey business.

As you write, it's an old, old tale, often told. Here's a case from the 1400s -- "sophistication" means "adulteration" in our terms:

The Plea and Memoranda Rolls - City of London - records on 07 sep 1427 the following:

An inquest of office before the mayor and aldermen by oath of Geoffrey Bokeler and others on the panel who said that Gerard Galganet, alien, on 10 July 1427 in the parish of St Margaret Patyns mixed 6 casks of old wine of La Rochelle, pale in colour and defective in taste, with new Spanish wine, and coloured, composed, and sophisticated them with wine cooked and coloured to give them a pleasant appearance and delectable taste, and put the wine thus mixed into 13 butts, which had been smeared and lined with divers gums and resins (cum diversis gummis et Rasis - unctis et linitis) so as to give it the taste and likeness of good Romeney wine, and offered it for sale as such, in deception of the king's people and in contempt of the good ordinances of the city. And further the jurors said that the said Gerard was a common sophisticator, counterfeiter and seller of such wines.



They also presented the same Gerard for having on 20 July sophisticated 10 casks of unsound La Rochelle wine, which he placed in one butt and 20 hogsheads, and a certain Dominicus de Venire, alien, for having on 10 March at the quay of Ralph Gresvale, packer, sophisticated 8 casks of old, sour-sweet (acredulcium) Spanish wine, defective in taste and colour and unsound, which he placed in 16 casks and exposed for sale as good Romeney.

Even our first President was well aware of the problem:

Letter from George Washington to Tench Tilghman, October 2, 1783, Rocky Hill.

The Chevr. de la Luzerne, hearing me the other day enquire after Claret, informed me that he had a quantity of it at Baltimore, more than he wanted, and would spare me some. I am, in consequence, to have two or three Hhds of this Stock…. As you know how liable Liquors are to be Adulterated by common Boatmen, or common Waggoners; and that it is the quality only which constitutes the Value, I persuade myself you will put this Wine into the charge of some person who will be responsible for the safe transportation of it. The Chevr. assures me that it is old Wine, and of the first quality. I hope to drink a Glass of it with you at Mount Vernon 'ere long…. I shall follow as soon as the Definitive Treaty arrives, or New York is Evacuated by our Newly acquired friends. On the first there is little said. Of the latter a great deal, but scarcely the same thing by any two who come from there. The general opinion however is, that they will be gone by the last of this Month.