Looking The Part: Pichon-Baron 1953 – 2015

BY NEAL MARTIN | JANUARY 30, 2019

There is a certain type of person who wears a bow tie beyond a tuxedo. It is a sartorial accoutrement that distinguishes its wearer from “the rest,” not dissimilar to those who wear a pince-nez rather than spectacles, or braces [suspenders] rather than a belt. The bow tie makes a statement about its wearer, something along the lines of, I got a bow tie and I’m gonna wear it. I came across the following quote on the Internet: “Wearing a bow tie is a way of expressing an aggressive lack of concern for what other people think.” “Normal” people who make do with common-or-garden neckties feel subconsciously challenged by the bow tie. What does it infer about that person? This man is eccentric. This man is old-fashioned. This man must be a university don. This man is a twit. This man is upper-class. This man is a narcissist. And so forth. These assumptions are all unfounded and doubtless incorrect. Just look at the eclectic bunch of bow-tie aficionados: Karl Marx, Stan Laurel, Charlie Chaplin, Sir Winston Churchill, Malcolm X, Keith Floyd, Hercule Poirot, Alfred Kinsey, Pee-wee Herman and Waylon Smithers. On reflection, whilst they lived wildly differing lives, maybe that “aggressive lack of concern for what other people think” is the common thread running through all those personalities.

Pichon-Baron's château building

Is that true with respect to Christian Seely? In the two decades that I have known him, I have never seen him without bow tie. It is synonymous with his name. Seely is to bow tie what Superman is to red cape. Maybe without it, he would lose his power and all his wines would turn to vinegar? On one occasion, I made an emergency stop at Pichon-Baron to ask if Seely could sort out my bow tie because, despite all instructions and “It’s So Easy” YouTube tutorials, I could not and cannot knot one myself. To me, Seely’s bow tie symbolizes a man who furrows his own path. Though salaried by AXA Millésimes, a subsidiary of a multinational insurance company, Seely calls the shots, a bridge between artisan winemaking and corporate worlds. With Domaine de l’Arlot in Burgundy, Quinta da Noval in the Douro, Château Petit-Village in Pomerol, Château Belles Eaux in Languedoc, Disznókő in Tokaj, Outpost in Napa Valley and Pichon-Baron under his aegis, he must adapt his approach according to the estate and market. AXA Millésimes’ policy was always to buy estates with unfulfilled potential, so the task set before any manager is manifold: reorganizing vineyards, investing in wineries, appointing the right people, keeping hold of the right people, dealing with foreign markets, repositioning the brand and setting prices, inter alia. Pichon-Baron is no exception. It requires a long-term strategy and a single person to see it through.

The journey that Pichon-Baron has taken in the last four decades has been truly remarkable. This article examines Pichon-Baron (and I will use its common name rather than “Château Longueville au Baron de Pichon Longueville”) and its sibling, Château Pibran, from the postwar period under the Bouteiller family to its purchase by AXA Millésimes and the tenures of Jean-Michel Cazes and Christian Seely. It covers its Damascene resurrection from perennial underachiever to bone fide star of the Left Bank. Underpinning everything are the wines, and so this report includes one of the most comprehensive vertical tastings conducted in recent years.

Christian Seely in the dining room at Pichon-Baron

History