Taras Ochota
GROWEr/winemaker
Ochota Barrels
Adelaide Hills, South Australia
Spotlight No. 27
Arriving in the Basket Range is like a tuning into a sensual world where everything participates in conjuring a new level of perception: An old truck lies in the grass, patiently gathering the patina of time; one or two cows graze languidly around it; steep hillsides give way to windy roads that lead to unseen neighbors, each of whom is growing something good.
The winemakers of the Basket Range compose a tight-knit, generously open and mutually supportive community. A visit with one usually becomes a visit with many, sharing the day and the adventure called life. Taras and Amber Ochota refer to the winemakers they have worked with around the world as a collection of "super creative … grape growing and winemaking lunatics that have shared their knowledge, wines, experience, heritage, houses, couches, tractors, cars, wineries, equipment and often many a cocktail.” Winemakers in the Basket Range are no exception.
Whether making music or wine or raising a family, the Ochotas have been living in a daydream filled with creativity and love. Losing Taras is a blow to the wholeness of the collective. The loss of a mate with such an inclusive spirit is felt on the deepest of human levels. The news hit the wine world with a wave of despair. Writers in publications near and far shared their memories of profound camaraderie even after only a brief visit. Taras touched everyone he met and inspired the hashtag #InTarasWeTrust.
Taras loved surfing, music and wine. None was more important than the other, and as a young man he could indulge in all of them around Adelaide. There were great surf spots, the Uni of Adelaide offered interesting studies and Taras could make music with the punk band Kranktus. When the time came to become a “professional,” he, like many of his mates, considered the hospitality path, but he much preferred being outside in the vineyards. So he studied enology. And then he embarked on a worldwide adventure with Amber, making wine and riding waves. When they returned to Australia they worked in wineries, and in 2008, they bought grapes and made their first wine. Even after they achieved global recognition, they lived with a bohemian spirit, growing their own vegetables, keeping their own honeybees, living off the land.
Taras particularly enjoyed the vineyards in Winter. He described it vividly: he would pull on his wet-weather gear, grab a thermos of hot coffee and a sandwich, plug in his headphones, crank up his tunes and head to the vineyards. He said, “Alone with nature, I love that.”
Otherwise, he preferred to leave viticulture to the experts and focus on the cellar. That is where he heard the voice of nature sing. He loved all the decisions he had to make for each grape: when to pick, whether to ferment in whole clusters or not, in stainless or oak and for how long, and finally, envisioning blends. The cellar was his happy place, where he could intuitively give form to the kind of angularity that gave his wines both the edge and the deliciousness he sought.
Finding the bridge between the chaos of punk rock and the loveliness of Taras’ wines was a challenge for me. Not being a fan of the punk genre, I had to enlist the thoughts of others. I happen to know some winemaking musicians, so I put together a tasting of Taras’ wines. They explained punk as fast, energetic and irreverent (that actually sounds fun!), with the rhythm cloaked under messiness. So I wondered, how does a winemaker go from writing messy music to making beautifully articulated wines?
After tasting some Ochota Barrels wines, my friends said there was a tightness, a coiled-up compression in the mid-palette, which in punk would be expressed through density of sound and motion. The compression, they felt, held the wine together until it expanded into a kaleidoscope of sensory stimulation on the finish. I finally understood. Both punk and Taras’ wines evoke emotive abandon, and the outcome is pure pleasure.
Perhaps my brother, an enthusiast of any musical genre, said it best: “Taras’ music is about emotion, energy, punches in the air. When I drink his wines, I think about love for the delicious juice, accentuated by a head-banging sense of joy.” Indeed. Taras generously shared himself through all he did. His wines are a reflection of their maker—unique and beautiful. Taras would say, “It is just wine, not saving lives or creating world peace.” But I say the vitality he extracted from the grapes did cause those who imbibed to stop and be with their senses, mindfully in tune with something more real and humble than human egos normally allow. While not saving the world, that is very important.
This photo is by Amber Ochota. For me it perfectly represents the continuum of life we all hope holds Taras so he can remain with us in spirit always.
