Remembering Steven Spurrier 1941-2021
BY NEAL MARTIN AND ANTONIO GALLONI |
No sooner had we come to terms with the passing of Michael Broadbent last year, we learn of the loss of his great friend Steven Spurrier on 9 March. For me, his passing came as even greater shock because he was the epitome of the indefatigable wine writer. In the 20 years that I have known him, rarely did I attend a tasting where I did not spot him immaculately dressed in suit and tie, flitting from one table to another, jotting down tasting notes or chatting with winemakers, always sprightly, garrulous and disarmingly affable. It did not matter whether it was a prestigious tasting of old claret or cheap and cheerful vino from some unknown wine region – if Spurrier could attend, then he would attend. He exuded the enthusiasm of someone attending their inaugural wine tasting. He never lost his sense of fun or boyishness. Life was for living to the full.
And boy, did he led a remarkable life. Born into wealth, by his own admission, he was an almost comically bad businessman who lost a chunk of the fortune inherited from his father’s cement business thanks to conmen who exploited his deep well of kindness and numerous investments so ill-advised that Spurrier himself would look back and laugh. He did not dwell too long on setbacks. He dusted himself off and applied the same vim and vigour to his next project, the next trip or his latest discovery, whether that was wine or his other great passion, objets d‘art.
I met Spurrier right at the beginning of my career, but really got to know him as a fellow member of the Southwold tasting group, where we would spend three days together. He was such a kind-hearted gentleman, in the true sense of the word, that he bristled hearing others disparage wines and would stoutly defend their honor. Sometimes I would be concentrating upon the flight of wine, when I would overhear Spurrier embarking upon some riveting and more often than not, unrepeatable anecdote about some or such proprietor’s dalliance or misdemeanor. His immense knowledge was gleaned not from reading books or even tasting a vast number of wines, but rather living a life through wine. In some senses, he had a conservative palate, a penchant for good English claret, old school. On the other hand, he was open-minded and endlessly inquisitive. He presciently welcomed the New World when many gave those countries short shrift. This led him to organize a blind tasting in 1976 that will forever divide wine appreciation into “before” and “after”. More on that later. Always off on a plane somewhere, he tasted and traveled far and wide, but in recent years, focused on matters closer to home, establishing his own vineyard in Dorset, Bride Valley with his wife Bella. As has been said countless times, Spurrier was instrumental in encouraging and expanding wine education, whether through his long-running column at Decanter magazine, the Académie du Vin wine schools that he opened first in Paris, also the Christies’ wine course or simply by being tapped on the shoulder by a stranger wondering if they could ask a question. His answer would always be, “Yes, of course”.
