Journalism as a great vineyard

Vineyards in Valdepeñas, Spain. © G. Serrano 2017

I wonder why some journalists go to the streets and others stay in front of the computer. To clarify this idea, let me tell you something about “one of the most mythical wines on earth”.

What is the secret of having a great wine? Jesús Rodríguez, the "cheeky journalist" from El País keen on reporting, asked Pablo Álvarez Mezquiriz, current owner of Vega Sicilia, the worldwide recognized wine brand.

— A great vineyard. Wine comes from the vine, not from the cellars, he said.

— Are you interested in money?

— Not at the expense of bringing down the brand, was his answer.

Similarly, the best journalism is not a question of technology, but of passion for finding wonderment. Paraphrasing Álvarez, I would say that journalism comes from the streets, not from the computers. What is more, I would add that media's strategies to achieve financial sustainability cannot ever be above quality content, our raw material, our vine and unique trademark.

However, at this unprecedented time and being immersed in a society of hyperinformation and knowledge, most of the journalists are more interested in taking care of the wine barrels (technological platforms, algorithms, tools), rather than the grapes (people, facts, narratives) from which wine comes.

To Álvarez, "wine’s identity resides in the vineyard, not in the powders" —herbicides and chemicals—. To me, journalism’s identity resides in the profound view of the chronicler, not in the search for "likes" on social networks.

Soils and grapes as the basis and more important elements of the profession. These series of articles are all about it (but only about it); in other words, about journalism as an unhurried handcrafted work that begins by watching and wondering.

I love having an enjoyable mealtime with a fine wine and, of course, with a companion who widen not only the conversation, but my mind and soul; someone that makes me say, with true astonishment: “How could I lived without knowing that? We must come together again soon”.

Café Ruiz, Madrid 2017 © G. Serrano

That’s our job: bring the readers back and —by being honest and ambitious enough— turn icy press reports into an unforgettable meal, a whole joyful experience. As Roland Barthes points out, “writing is the science of language’s joy”. Just to complete the picture I would include this: writing is, as well, an engagement with countless possibilities of highlighting the most distinctive features —the bright and dark spots— of contemporary history.

“My role es simply: to pass on what we do. I’m not inventig anything”, says Álvarez emphatically. Likewise, these ideas, and the philosophy they underpin, are not new. Rather, overlooked in everyday practice —among other reasons— because we have long had our eyes on the amorphous audience instead of The Person behind the screen.

So, let’s go back to fundamentals. What then is the secret to writing a vibrant journalistic piece? "Vega Sicilia is a wine that is alive and has a soul", a Japanise said once to Álvarez. Metaphorically, journalism of 21th century needs —first of all— to recover its soul in order to recover its social value, its legitimation beyond Google Analytics. In order to transform every single article into a sip of an unusual wine: full bodied, rich, with very smooth tannins and a long finish. A Vega Sicilia one.

This is what I’ve learned by listening to a wide range of people: from acclaimed musicians through human rights defenders and right up to researchers. And I come here, every now and then, to remain in the labour.

To be continued…

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