Between The Rows
The red thread. A theme, chosen annually, which guides us in structuring the year’s words and images, in curating our cultural events... in every expression emerging from the estate that lends meaning to our wines and to our daily lives alike.
At Château Palmer, words make the wall.
Today, exposed, they unveil the secrets of stones.
And so it is with wordplay,
When language imbues words with fresh perspective, with reverence,
When a shift of stance, a new vantage point, reveals a hidden meaning.
These sidesteps, this delight in perspectives, defines the estate as well.With one foot in its heritage, and the other in nature,
Between history and terroir,
Its vintages each reveal an unexpected reality,
Another truth, made for sharing.
THROUGH PALMER'S EYE
“P.E.” on one side, “P.I.” on the other. On the façade of a château erected with the 1854 vintage, near the base of each of its towers, just above their stone doors, two sets of initials remain stubbornly decipherable. Sculpted in stone, their trace endures – that of Emile Pereire and Isaac Pereire, the men who commissioned this neo-Renaissance edifice.
In the 19th century, they together rewrote the history of Palmer. Yet somehow this inscription still retains an evocative power, beyond its historic allure. Its design, so finely chiselled, so elegant and complex, echoes the wines of the estate. No ostentation, only style. They are forms of writing which are appreciated over time, in their every detail. With age, the words of Palmer take on greater meaning. And thus, the game is double. Two letters, twice over: “P.E.”, “P.I.”.
THROUGH PALMER'S EYE
A term without end
Ansault: Noun. (North America) A variety of pear.
Pannychis: Noun. An all-night feast or ceremony.
Knocker-up: Noun. (Britain) A person whose job is to go from house to house in the early morning and wake up workers by tapping on their window with a long pole.
Bit: Noun. (North America) a unit of 12 ½ cents
These terms have disappeared. Dead on the semantic field. The professions, customs, or species which they described are no longer. And yet one need only speak them again, and suddenly they are rescued from oblivion.
Like a sentimental song that makes everyone smile, with nostalgia, musicality, and poetry, these words can speak again. From this to-and-fro between past and present, from this haunting wordplay, a truth is revealed: language is alive, both in orally and in writing. Steeped in heritage and eras, it may be resurrected over and over. Like our wines, time enriches it, without end.