There are estates where you sense within minutes: this isn’t work, this is thought. Artadi belongs to that very small club. Maybe it’s the crisp Laguardia air, maybe the limestone soils, maybe the calm presence of Ana Isabel Rodriguez, who welcomes me this noon. Or maybe it’s simply because what happens here doesn’t fit the usual Rioja script – and feels all the more coherent because of it.
Max Kaindl, November 17, 2025
Reading time about 5 minutes
ARTADI – When Rioja Reinvents Itself
The Vineyard – Artadi’s Real Currency
Long before barrels, “style,” or cellar philosophy enter the picture, you’re confronted with a truth that sounds banal but has been ignored time and again in Rioja: Wine is made in the vineyard. Full stop.
Artadi today works largely biodynamically – not for image, but out of conviction. Bush vines, low yields, manual cultivation, no systemic herbicides or fungicides. Rioja Alavesa’s soils are limestone-driven, almost Burgundian in places, streaked with clay, sand, sediment. And Artadi’s goal is crystal clear: let the soils speak. Not the oak. Not the cellar. The soil.
Ana walks me through each parcel
- El Pisón – an amphitheatre, sheltered, wind-swept, with old vines drilled into the earth like anchors.
- El Carretil – stonier, more ascetic, vertical, almost intellectual.
- La Hoya – darker, deeper, carrying more substance and a faint volcanic undertone.
Between the vines, the differences hit you instantly: harsher microclimates, cooler nights, later ripening. What used to be a disadvantage is now a jackpot: late ripening = longer hang time = more aromatic complexity with less alcohol.
A region historically known for warm, fruit-driven Tempranillo suddenly gains coolness, tension, verticality. That’s exactly what defines the 2022s. But more on that in a moment.
Vineyard Work – No Dogma, Just Consequence
Artadi harvests selectively, parcel by parcel, vine by vine. Yields are tiny. Picking is 100% manual. Every berry passes three selection stages: in the vineyard, on arrival, and again at the sorting table. Sounds like marketing. It isn’t. I saw it.
Low yields alone don’t guarantee quality. But low yields combined with healthy, vital vines deliver grapes with:
- denser aromatics
- riper yet finer phenolics
- higher natural acidity
- less vine stress, therefore fewer bitter compounds
You taste exactly that in the 2022s: no heaviness, no heat, no tannic aggression. Instead: finesse, texture, clarity.
The Cellar – Where Rioja Pauses and Rethinks
The real stylistic shift happens in the cellar. And that takes courage – a lot of it.
Because Artadi did something that borders on sacrilege in Rioja: they filled the cellar with Stockinger.
Large Austrian oak. Native yeast ferments. Long maceration without force. Malo in barrel. élévage into the second spring. Minimal toast, larger volumes, less aromatic influence. What does it do?
More texture, less oak imprint
Stockinger barrels give virtually no vanilla, no coconut, no sweet toast. Instead: density without width. Structure without weight. A frame, not a filter.
Less reduction, more transparency
Bigger casks encourage gentle micro-oxygenation, letting Tempranillo stretch out. The result:
- clearer fruit
- finer tannins
- depth without “make-up”
Parcel identity instead of barrique signature
When the oak falls silent, the vineyard speaks. Carretil, Hoya and Pisón have never been more expressive.
Why the Wines Taste Different Today
What happens when vineyard precision meets neutral oak? This:
- The wines become finer. Straighter. More mineral. More vertical. And far more honest.
- Not everyone will love it. Fans of sweet spice and plush fruit may be confused. Good. Because these wines suddenly have contour again. Personality. Energy.
My tasting notes
Blanco Viñas de Gain 2020
A white wine that secretly wants to be red – at least on the palate. Ripe, lightly waxy, acacia honey, pale blossoms, plenty of skin contact. Mild acidity, but grippy and phenolic, with a long, bright, almost glowing finish. As if Viura woke up and decided to develop a spine. A statement.
Viñas de Gain 2022
Red cherry in its most perfect form – pure, juicy, deep. Herbs, lift, finesse. Tannins that grip yet feel silky. A wine that enters like a charmer and leaves like a gentleman. The lively acidity strings everything together like a finely tuned instrument. Classic Artadi entry, but this time with surgical precision.
La Hoya 2022
Darker, denser – yet surprisingly light on its feet. Black fruit, mint, florals, a touch of leafiness, elegant sweetness of extract. Tannins are present, tightly woven, never heavy. A hint of liquorice at the start. Depth without drama. A wine that doesn’t shout – it hypnotises.
El Carretil 2022
The quiet brother of Hoya. Finer, brighter, more vertical. Less fruit, more line. More breath. Flowers, red fruit, vibration, endless length. A wine that doesn’t perform – it floats. And that’s exactly why it stays with me.
Viña El Pisón 2022
And then there’s Pisón. A wine that truly disarmed me. Pale red fruit, enormous precision, monumental yet incredibly fine. Power without weight. Energy without edge. A decathlete with elegance. Tannins polished like river stones. The acidity places an exclamation mark, then settles into perfect balance. This is Rioja in a form many thought impossible. I fell in love with it.
What This Day Did to Me
There are wine moments that rearrange you. Artadi was one of them. Because this is a winery that shows how modern Rioja can be when you let it speak. Because courage here isn’t loud. And because this style doesn’t betray the region – it evolves it.
Artadi isn’t part of the revolution. Artadi is the revolution. Just on silent feet.
Pictures: © The Art of Riesling – Maximilian Kaindl
