Keller Excellence

BY DAVID SCHILDKNECHT |

For nearly 20 years, Klaus Peter Keller has almost surely been Germany’s most written-about wine grower, both at home and abroad. This likely means – given the extent to which demand exceeds supply – most read about by people, including professed Riesling lovers, who have never tasted a Keller wine. Still, your chances of latching onto a bottle whose contents vividly reflect this Rheinhessen estate’s celebrated standards are a lot better than those of savoring wine from candidates for iconic status in other wine regions because that standard is met by even generic Keller estate bottlings that still sell even in export markets for $35-70. If reading my account of what makes these wines and their author tick prompts you to track down and taste one for the first time, I won’t wring my hands in guilt over having added fuel to the fire of demand. Even if you don’t make that attempt or don’t succeed, the Keller story can be mined for insights into growing, vinifying and marketing great Riesling (or Silvaner, or Pinot Noir), into the unique features of Rheinhessen and, more generally, of German Riesling. If, on the other hand, you are, like me, a geek and have direct experience with Keller wine, here’s hoping that, by informing your future encounters, this Vinous profile will enhance them.

Klaus Peter Keller and his wife Julia, aided by their children and Klaus Peter’s father, farm 60 acres (24 hectares) of vines, all but 11 owned outright (as opposed to leased), and all but one and three-quarters in Rheinhessen. That reflects an enlargement undertaken after it became clear in 2020 that elder son Felix would join full-time and develop a sparkling wine program. “I don’t want our estate to become any bigger,” insists Keller who wants to, as he puts it, “be standing in my vineyards daily,” personally working the vines and calling the shots based on direct evidence. (Though, as you’ll see, he has some extra eyeballs for those 1.75 acres on the Mosel.)

In 2021, the estate celebrated an auspicious anniversary: “A hundred years ago,” explains Keller, “my great-grandfather put the first Keller wines into bottle – because after the First World War, the casks of 100-180 liters were often damaged or stolen while being shipped by rail.” (The original label design would eventually be replicated for the family’s Grosse Gewächse.) From today’s perspective – Klaus Peter Keller having achieved what can only be called “superstar” status – it would be easy to overlook the shoulders on which he stands. But that is something which, as this reference to his great-grandfather – the fifth of ten generations at the estate – suggests, he isn’t about to let you forget. Among the pioneers in this family, Klaus Peter’s father Klaus, still very much active, stands out for accomplishments that can be best understood against a historical backdrop.

From “Second-Rate” to Serious Riesling

For two centuries, the rolling hills of Rheinhessen’s Wonnegau*, even if they lived up to their name as a “place of bliss,” counted as viticultural hinterlands. Their reputation, along with that of other sectors in Rheinhessen, had been eclipsed by the steep slopes overlooking the Rhine at Nackenheim and Nierstein, often referenced as Riesling’s next-best sites after those that begin some dozen miles downstream in the Rheingau. At its eastern edge, the Wonnegau almost touches the Rhine – but its vineyards, which begin further inland and look very different from those of the so-called Roter Hang (“Red Slope”) at Nackenheim and Nierstein. Most Wonnegau slopes are gentle or moderate (at least, by Riesling Germany’s standards), dominated by erosion of underlying limestone. They tend to face east or southeast and are often wind-exposed, factors conducive to grapes ripening less readily. From a 19th or early 20th century Rheingau or Nierstein perspective, they suggest inferior Riesling terroir.

During the “economic miracle” of Germany’s postwar recovery, the Wonnegau flourished by relying on and expanding acreage planted to garishly aromatic grape varieties and ones that readily accumulated sugar while rapidly shedding acidity. Post-war consumers craved sweetness, so wines were liberally – and quite legally – laced with par-fermented juice from a colorful array of those same grapes, nearly all of them crossings developed within German-speaking countries over the preceding eight decades. Germany’s infamous 1971 Wine Law, with its monomaniacal fixation on grape sugar and its “democratic”-populist deemphasizing of grape type, can be seen in part as an attempt to encourage the sort of viticulture and winemaking that had recently come to dominate “interior” Rheinhessen. To that extent, it backfired.

The 1980s brought a “dry wave,” as Germans who could afford estate-bottled instead of mass-produced wines gradually came to view “trocken” on their labels as a precondition for purchase. And the 1990s witnessed a return to respect for Riesling, which wasn’t considered a Wonnegau specialty, as Germany’s preeminent white grape. Some observers recognized pockets of Riesling excellence such as at Weinheim (with the Gysler family’s connection to a seminal clone) and at Westhofen (as demonstrated by Günter Wittmann) – both commercially represented in the US from the early 1990s by Terry Theise. But Klaus Keller was the person who did the most to prove to Germans that profound Riesling, dry and sweet, could be rendered from the Wonnegau. Keller senior indefatigably chipped away at critics’ and merchants’ prejudices. By the decade’s end, he was widely celebrated as Rheinhessen’s foremost winegrower, and the Wonnegau was touted as Germany’s “new” Riesling mecca. Nor should the role of Klaus Peter’s Mosel-born mother Hedwig – “Hedi” – be forgotten. She contributed irreplaceably to the hard work and charm required to achieve those results, before succumbing to cancer at a tragically young age.   

Klaus Keller exhibited not only confidence that was rare among his fellow Wonnegau winegrowers, but also foresight – and not just by handing the reins to his son and daughter-in-law in a timely manner. When Keller senior acquired his estate’s sizeable, prime portion of the Brunnenhäuschen Einzellage (what’s nowadays known by its ancient name, “Abtserde”), there was a 10-year lease against it, so that only in 2006 could the first Keller vinification even take place. Foresight had its limits, though. Keller senior wasn’t too happy when, three years after the Abtserde purchase, his son insisted on acquiring a parcel in Kirchspiel. “Let’s just say,” reminisces the younger Keller, “that the 1999 was not a success. But I said: ‘just wait ‘til next year.’ Well, you know what happened in 2000: almost everything rotted. So, dad’s thinking: ‘Here he is, just out of Geisenheim, he insists on having Kirchspiel, and now we’ve had two failed vintages in a row.’ The 2001, finally, was terrific. But dad said: ‘We’re not going to put ‘Kirchspiel’ on the label because who knows what will happen next?’” Meantime, the estate’s Morstein arrived courtesy of Julia’s family, the Fauths, who are Westhofen natives. 

Manicuring clusters –  performed by Julia Keller in 2017 – is one of the critical, labor-intensive elements in the Keller quality regimen.

Manicuring clusters –  performed by Julia Keller in 2017 – is one of the critical, labor-intensive elements in the Keller quality regimen.

Fame and Good Fortune

Klaus Peter Keller’s reputation has reached a point where one is tempted to merely write: “The rest is history.” But that history is well-worth elaborating (and much of it will be further touched on in sections of this report where I delve into viticulture, winemaking, and style). Keller’s ability to collaborate with his father, Klaus, and his wife, Julia, who also earned a degree from Geisenheim, has been a significant factor in the 21st century history of this estate. The younger Keller’s affection for Pinot Noir was nurtured by internships in 1998-1999 with Hubert Lignier and Armand Rousseau, and the 21st century has seen the development of a Pinot Noir program second to none in Germany. With Riesling, Keller has taken to heart, but also to a new level of meticulousness and refinement, revered ex-Müller-Catoir cellarmaster Hans-Günter Schwarz’s motto of “activism in the vineyard, minimalism in the cellar.” It’s thanks to Schwarz, with whom Julia Fauth trained, that the Kellers have retained two crossings – Scheurebe and Rieslaner (the latter represented by perhaps the oldest vines of this variety anywhere outside of Franken) – and have lavished attention on them as well as on the traditional Gelber Muskateller, of which they recently acquired an additional parcel.

Keller has played a leading role in reviving the reputation of Rheinhessen’s traditional workhorse grape, Silvaner (which he would prefer to see spelled with a “y”), including taking it to hitherto unimagined price levels. Although Keller's Morstein Pinot Noir is grafted onto Silvaner, this should not be misconstrued as a reflection of his views on the latter grape. Rather, it is indicative of the opportunity he saw for the former grape variety. “In fact,” he explains, “we like Silvaner so much that we keep adding tiny bits of it here and there, swapping parcels, as we recently did with a smidgeon of Weissburgunder that we still had.” And from 2021, there will be a highly notable new “bit” of Silvaner (which, alas, I have not tasted) from 60-some-year-old vines in Neu-Bamberg, in the “Rheinhessian Switzerland” familiar to wine lovers nowadays from the Wagner-Stempel estate. “You have a layered combination of chalk over porphyry there that may be the geological ideal for Silvaner,” enthuses Keller, “with really striking phenolics. One of our fellow workers brought this parcel to our attention. And because it’s Silvaner, it had been overlooked. But there will only be 400 bottles. How am I going to divide that up around the world?” He’s contemplating an internal auction to benefit a Ukrainian aid organization.

No account of Keller’s tenure thus far would be complete without mentioning three diverse “satellite” projects. In 2008, he helped former intern Anne Enggrav pick a site, clear land and plant the first Riesling vineyard in Norway (at 58 degrees latitude). “When we began this project,” he relates, “we joked that it was meant for our children. At the Geisenheim Institute, they told us that the first ripe Riesling grapes could probably be expected by 2050. But in our first harvest, 2018, the grapes already had Kabinett must weight in mid-October and tasted ripe. It both thrilled and frightened us."

Two projects closer to home have greater immediate import and bring a pair of Hedi Keller’s dreams to fruition. Each also represented a rare stroke of fortune. Keller perceived an unlikely but once-in-a-lifetime opportunity when Franz Karl Schmitt, then 71 years old, decided to sell his vineyards and dissolve his estate named for an eponymous ancestor. Despite the property's significance as Nierstein's Number One from the mid-19th to the late 20th century, Schmitt's children showed no interest in maintaining it. Adding vineyards a 35-minute drive from Keller’s home base would be a stretch. Still, in late 2010 Keller approached Schmitt about the fate of three choice parcels in Pettental and Hipping (for more about which, consult my vineyard profiles under “Location, Location, Location” below.) It turned out that Keller had put his finger on Schmitt’s sweet spots in more than one sense because the latter was especially loath to part company and lose touch with those plots. 

On April 1, 2011, assuring me that this was no April Fool’s joke, Keller wrote that Schmitt, who harbored fond memories of Keller’s grandfather, had sold him the parcels in question – which did not go down well with Nierstein locals. Moreover, Schmitt was more than willing – indeed, anxious – to serve as a consultant, in effect as part of Keller’s team. Initially, it appeared that the possibility of carrying out Keller's proposed plans for a tasting of old F. K. Schmitt wines would not come to fruition when the rest of Schmitt's estate, including the Schmitt Schatzkammer (the family’s treasure trove of old bottles), looked likely to be sold to St. Antony winery. But things worked out in that regard as well. I got to experience firsthand what a generous trove of vineyard lore and wisdom the affable Franz Karl Schmitt was when, in 2012, I had the privilege of walking the vineyards in his and Keller’s company and tasting Franz Karl Schmitt Rieslings going back more than a century.

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For nearly 20 years, Klaus Peter Keller has almost surely been Germany’s most written-about wine grower, both at home and abroad. What makes his estate perhaps the most exciting in Germany today? This article takes a close look at the people, places and mystique surrounding Weingut Keller, including detailed notes on wines from vintages 2019-2021.