The Swartland has got under my skin: the open, dusty, daydream-inducing roads; the dramatic granite outcrops; the big billowing skies; the swathes of slightly unkempt farmland, on the edge of wildness; the aura of being in a borderland, between mountains; the charismatic old bush vines; the summer hues of baked earth, shades of sandy-yellow, amber, and gold; the distinctive scents of fynbos; the kaleidoscopic sunsets and the blazing sunrises. But it’s not just the place, of course, it’s the people in this place – the people who grow wine here and who have, over the years, made the Swartland their home. Combined, the place and these people have created an extraordinary energy and sense of togetherness – an everyone’s-welcome-here vibe, a let’s-not-take-ourselves-too-seriously sparkle – which is completely intoxicating.
I am recently back from the 2025 edition of the Swartland Revolution, the first since 2015, hot on the heels of two weeks of harvest with Donovan Rall in the Swartland. I joked that I was submerged in Swartland Syrah for a fortnight in February (Donovan processes his Syrah whole bunch, and I stomped most of those bunches myself) but the truth is what I’ve really been submerged in is the Swartland spirit. And I don’t want to resurface.
From bread basket to dynamic fine wine region
The Swartland is a 440,000-hectare appellation, about 40 miles north of Cape Town, with less than three percent of its land under vine. In 2023, there were 11,977 hectares of Swartland vineyard, making it South Africa’s fourth-most planted wine region, behind Paarl, Robertson, and the Breedekloof, and just ahead of Stellenbosch. Taking its name – “black land” – from the endemic dark-grey-coloured renosterbos (“rhinoceros bush”) shrubs, it is the bread basket of the Western Cape, most associated with its wheat farming.
Unlike Stellenbosch, which has many famous, grand estates, some dating back to the 1600s, the Swartland has only two historic private cellars (Allesverloren and Lammershoek) and was a cooperative-led region in the twentieth century. Its modern development can be traced back to the late-1990s and to the establishment, by Fairview’s Charles Back, of a new cellar dedicated to Swartland fruit: Spice Route. Back hired a young Eben Sadie as his winemaker who made three vintages for Spice Route, while working on his own wine projects with Back’s blessing, before leaving to set up Sadie Family Wines. From 2000 onwards, Sadie and a small but growing number of winemakers started to source from the Swartland, exploring the region’s identity, and what they recognised as its untapped potential, through its predominantly dryland-farmed old bush vines. This new generation of winemakers were in the opening pages of their careers and had neither vineyards nor cellars of their own, and the somewhat remote and off-the-radar Swartland offered them the opportunity to establish themselves independently.
As momentum built, and inspired by the Hospice du Rhône in California, the Swartland Revolution was unleashed on the world in 2010. There were four founding producers and six pioneering individuals behind this: A.A. Badenhorst Family Wines (Adi Badenhorst), Mullineux (Andrea and Chris Mullineux), Porseleinberg (Callie Louw and Marc Kent), and The Sadie Family Wines (Eben Sadie). 2010 was the same year that Sadie launched his now highly sought-after Old Vines Series (Die Ouwingerdreeks) wines from the 2009 vintage – rebranded as the District Series (Die Distriksreeks) with the 2023 vintage – and the same year that the first Porseleinberg Syrah was made by Kent and Louw; it was to be a turning point not just in how the Swartland was perceived, but in how South Africa was perceived by the wine world at large.
From the beginning, the “revolutionaries” shared a number of core beliefs. As well as displaying a relaxed, sometimes provocatively irreverent outlook on wine – decidedly counter-establishment – these individuals all, first and foremost, expressed a deep connection with the land, which Badenhorst describes as “not just a physical but a spiritual connection”. Yes, they all work with a similar ethos in the cellar (indigenous ferments, minimal additions, and limited, if any, new oak), but much more significant than their winemaking approach is the work they do in the vineyards. Championing grape varieties which thrive in the hot, dry Mediterranean climate of the Swartland, they farm attentively, aiming to improve soil health and replenish organic matter through the use of diverse cover crops, natural mulches, and composting – methods we are now recognising as integral to a regenerative system of farming. This was a movement grown from the soil.
The revolutionaries have captured the identity of the Swartland in their wines, both celebrating the uniqueness of single sites – for example, through the Mullineux Single Terroir Chenin Blancs and Syrahs – and the beauty of multi-vineyard, multi-varietal blends. The success of the blends is a brilliant piece of future-proofing, enabling them to integrate lesser-known grape varieties which thrive in the Swartland climate into their wines, without changing the names, or following, of the wines. Witness the shift in make-up of Sadie Family Wines Columella in the last two decades, from circa 80% Syrah to now less than 40%, with a whole suite of supporting varieties including Tinta Barroca now in the mix; the inclusion of Grenache Blanc and then Verdelho – and more drought-tolerant white grapes – in Mullineux Old Vines White; the annually-fluctuating medley of some dozen varieties in Badenhorst Family Wines White Blend; the plantings of Assyrtiko, Agiorgitiko, Grillo, Vermentino, et al, going into the ground.
Through their distinctive and expressive wines, the founders of the Swartland Revolution put the Swartland on the fine wine map and inspired winemakers all over the country to re-evaluate the potential of their respective regions.
The Swartland Revolution revisited
Fifteen years after the Swartland Revolution officially launched in 2010, and ten years after the curtain closed on their last rendition, the original gang of six decided that the time was right for a return of sorts. And what a return they orchestrated! In the opening address, which sounds far more formal than it actually was, Badenhorst spoke of their “intense passion and insatiable drive for the Swartland” and this was palpable throughout the weekend.
Over 300 people descended on Graanland in the Paardeberg for a two-day festival celebrating everything that the Swartland has come to represent. Three stimulating wine seminars were interspersed with wonderful food, often cooked over open flame, “beer breaks”, live bands, and a carnival atmosphere, each night ending with dancing – and sleeping (even if only for a few short hours) – under the stars, in the temporary campsite erected for the weekend. The guests were an eclectic combination of both the trade (local and international) – including winemakers, importers, retailers, restauranteurs – and the public, and these two categories rubbed shoulders amicably, united by their love of wine in general and Swartland wine in particular.
Among the many wines that passed our lips over the weekend, the most fascinating for me came in the “Swartland Stories” seminar where we compared two vintages of one wine from each producer, ten years apart, letting – as our festival programme stated – “time do the talking”. The wines (in the order we tasted) were: Mullineux Old Vines White 2010 and 2020, A.A. Badenhorst Family Wines White Blend 2013 and 2023, Porseleinberg Syrah 2011 and 2021, and Sadie Family Wines Columella 2012 and 2022.
This comparative exercise suggested that we probably drink Swartland white blends too young; these wines ascend to another level of textural complexity when given time to develop in bottle and in both cases it was the older vintages which excited me most for drinking now. How much time to give them is difficult to say, as Andrea Mullineux explained how, like Rhône whites, they do not age in a linear fashion. The tasting confirmed to me how important a part of the Swartland identity the Chenin-based white blend is (and how spectacularly delicious it is, too).
Turning to the reds, Porseleinberg 2011 was as fiercely tannic as the last time I tasted almost one year ago (I love its refusal to budge!), but it was so much more open aromatically – dazzlingly perfumed in fact. Sit tight if you’re one of the lucky few who has this in their cellar. Its younger sibling was on fine form too, more floral than 2011, and thrumming with energy. Of the pairs of wines, Columella felt to have gone through the greatest evolution stylistically – the 2022 displaying heightened elegance, precision, freshness, and astonishing detail, while the 2012 felt more brawny and rugged, broader and fuller – but, as with all, the connecting dots between the two vintages were clearly visible.
The Swartland identity
The “Quality First” seminar saw Sebastián Zuccardi of Zuccardi Wines in Mendoza, Argentina, and Tim Atkin MW explore the twin pillars of identity and diversity in the Chardonnays and Malbecs which Zuccardi grows in the Uco Valley. This prompted me to think about how regional identity is created by winegrowers, and the many historical and cultural reference points which accumulate to create a collective understanding – and sometimes judgement – of a region’s character, as well as how long it takes to establish this and how difficult it is to dismantle and reshape, once formed.
The Swartland had no identity on a global stage a quarter of a century ago, and certainly no reputation for quality wine production. Today, its thrilling, transparent, terroir-focused wines find themselves in collector’s cellars alongside the great classic wine regions of the world. Beyond the revolutionaries, there is an exciting – and expanding – array of Swartland-based producers, including (but not limited to!) City on a Hill, David & Nadia, JC Wickens, Rall Wines, Vinevenom, Wolf & Woman, as well as producers who make one or two wines from Swartland sites, such as Alheit Vineyards, Boekenhoutskloof, Damascene, Gabriëlskloof, Thorne & Daughters, Van Loggerenberg.
Reflecting on what the Swartland Revolution has achieved in a short space of time, Zuccardi’s words in the opening seminar resonate: “Terroir doesn’t belong to us, but our interpretation of the terroir belongs to us”. The revolutionaries all had – and have – the boldness to own their individual interpretations of the Swartland, to carve their own respective paths, away from the historic and prestigious centre of South Africa’s wine industry, and in so doing their combined output represented “a reinvention of what South Africa meant to the world”, to quote Anthony Hamilton Russell, while moderating the “Swartland Stories” seminar.
What, then, is “Swartlandness”? Kent answered this question in a heartbeat; it is “studied carelessness”. The words that sprung to mind for Badenhorst are “unapologetically authentic”. Proving that point, for Louw, “real Swartlandness is no bullshit.” For the Mullineuxs, it is a commitment to the land and “letting the seasons guide us while doing things with heart, with grit, and often a little against the grain”; it is “rooted in identity, open in spirit”. For Sadie, Swartlandness means “a complex, humble landscape told simply”.
For me, and after my experience going “back to the revolution”, Swartlandness is that intoxicating sense of easy togetherness I attempted to describe in my introduction. Badenhorst, Kent, Louw, the Mullineuxs, and Sadie have, through their wines and through hosting the Swartland Revolution events, managed to amplify the inherent power of wine – the power that the growing and the making and the drinking of wine has to bring people together, and in so doing to create community, culture, and connection, with each other and with the land. They would not admit that, of course (they would probably just say they know how to throw a lekker party), but that humility is part of their Swartlandness.
Images by @alexander_the_foodie and @foodbymikko