When Michel Rolland passed away late last month, his loss was felt around the world. He was the first “flying winemaker,” who, over his 55-year career as a consulting oenologist, lent his palate and blending knowledge to some 150 estates across 20-plus countries. He did business in Uruguay, Argentina, Armenia, and France with names like Screaming Eagle, Harlan Estates, and Château Lascombes.
Whether you subscribed to his approach or not — and Rolland was not without his critics — his influence and impact in the wine world runs deep. He spent decades developing wineries on every continent except Antarctica, and alongside Robert Parker, his palate and proclivities defined the wines of a generation.
“His influence as a winemaker is far-reaching globally,” says Seven Apart winemaker Morgan Maureze, a Rolland disciple who worked with the oenologist at Screaming Eagle, Dalla Valle Vineyards, Dancing Hares, and Marciano Estate. “He helped elaborate more modern and textured wines, which helped train, mentor, and influence countless winemakers and winery owners. I would consider him one of the fathers of modern winemaking.”
“He had an anticipatory vision — an ability to see what a wine can become, not just what it is at the moment of tasting,” says Jayson Hu of Fairest Creature in Napa Valley, where Rolland was the master blender.
Big shoes to fill, right? The question is, as we deal with the loss of one of the greats, will there — and can there — ever be another Michel Rolland?
Bordeaux-bred Rolland was born into wine — his parents ran Pomerol’s Château Le Bon Pasteur. After studying at the University of Bordeaux under legendary wine consultant Émile Peynaud, he went on to run a laboratory with his wife, Dany Bleynie.
“He was giving people lab results, some of whom did not know how to interpret them,” says Maureze. So Rolland started working directly with the wineries to work through the results. “History was born,” says Maureze.
From Rolland’s home base in Bordeaux he traversed the world, consulting in Napa, Rioja, Argentina, and beyond. An oenologist by trade, he advised on both the technical — when to pick, where to plant, and how to achieve ripeness, structure, and weight — and the intangibles, like how to form an identity or interpret a sense of place.
Through his prolific work, he became known for a particular style: ripe, full-bodied wines with a heavy dose of oak influence.
“Beyond his reputation, it was his ability to listen, understand our identity, and translate it into wines with a true sense of place that convinced us to collaborate,” says Róbert Wessman of Maison Wessman. “He contributed a strategic vision, helping us position our wines with clarity and confidence.”
The draw of working with him, and other consulting winemakers, is obvious.
For wineries in emerging regions, consultants like Rolland bring experience — how to handle mildew, when to pick, how to prune, and how to make great wine — to regions that didn’t have that generational knowledge.
“When I started Gilauri Wines, Georgia had deep traditional winemaking knowledge — thousands of years of it, and I respect that profoundly,” says Irakli Gilauri. “What we lacked was a modern fine-wine infrastructure.”
So he hired Rolland, who helped finesse the wines. Gilauri now sends his younger winemakers to Rolland’s estates to stage or work harvest and build knowledge. “That’s the long-term investment: building Georgian fine-wine talent with a global foundation,” he says.
Alternatively, if you’re a new brand, or a winery struggling with scores or sales, why not call in the big guns? It’s a guardrail, especially considering how capital-intensive starting a winery is.
“The margin for error in those first vintages is slim,” says wine marketer Tamara Bingham of Likely Story Strategies. “A seasoned consultant brings institutional knowledge, established relationships, and a track record of quality that a brand-new program simply can’t access otherwise.”
“He had an anticipatory vision — an ability to see what a wine can become, not just what it is at the moment of tasting.”
A consultant can also be an on-ramp to better scores.
Which is where the controversy of wine consultancy starts. “While it’s great for a winemaker to have a signature, the reality is that (with some exceptions) these consultants are often paid top dollar to do one thing: secure the highest critical scores,” says Thatcher Baker-Briggs of Thatcher’s Wine. “Too often, they achieve this by playing it safe, chasing new oak, and leaning heavily into branding. It strips the wine of its identity and masks the terroir entirely.”
In 2004, the documentary “Mondovino” positioned Rolland as a villain. He, according to naysayers, was the enemy of craft, the antithesis of local — a highly paid, cigar-swinging winemaker whose chauffeur drops him at wineries to doctor wines of sameness.
So many flippantly reduced flying winemakers to high-paid consultants who come in, weigh in, and leave.
“It’s a loaded topic,” says Tom Gamble, owner of Napa’s Gamble Estates. He works with Napa-based consultants Philippe Melka and Maayan Koschitzky. “Flying sounds derogatory, which doesn’t truly fit my situation — Philippe has already been buying my grapes for more than 20 years.”
“The term ‘flying winemaker’ is a concerning moniker,” says Paul Hobbs, a winemaker who works across four continents, including at his namesake winery in California and on upstart projects like Yacoubian-Hobbs in Armenia. “It suggests a transactional, in-and-out approach, when in reality, meaningful contribution requires time; time to listen, to absorb, and to truly appreciate the environment. That’s where quality comes from.”
Over the years, consulting winemaker became a more common career. Which led to even more criticisms. When one winemaker is weighing in on hundreds of wines around the world, does it flatten terroir? Veteran wine writer Karen MacNeil raised this question in 2024, following a tasting of wines made by Melka:
“All of these wineries employ the consultant Philippe Melka. All of these wineries make plush, soft, well-structured, very expensive Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon. Is it a problem if many of them taste largely the same?”
It’s a good point: Does the Napa Valley need 50 brands led by five winemakers? The internet had varying opinions (and some hot takes) on the implied homogeneity in MacNeil’s post. “Napa is turning into an ’80s band with a one-hit wonder,” commented one Facebook user. “If that’s the style consumers want, where’s the problem?” wrote another.
Those who knew Rolland would argue his, and any consultant’s, villain arc was a false narrative. He was a hired gun, yes, but brought with him deep knowledge of viticulture and oenology.
“Here’s what most people outside the wine world don’t fully appreciate: You only make wine once a year,” Gilauri says. “You get one shot. A winemaker working a single estate gets maybe 20 or 30 vintages in a career.” Someone like Rolland, Hobbs, Melka, Thomas Rivers Brown, Benoit Touquette, Andy Erickson, or Mikaël Laizet (Rolland’s colleague), sees dozens of harvests every year. “That accumulated knowledge is extraordinary.”
Hu, who hired Rolland alongside Melka, Touquette, and Rivers Brown, recalls Rolland’s aptitude for blending. “He typically got his final blend within three attempts, and it consistently proved to be the strongest version,” he says. “We all have tried to challenge his blends many times, but we have never surpassed them.”
“He would simply sit at the table, smiling, watching us question our own decisions with the patience of an elder,” Hu says.
In Rolland’s wake, where does the business go from here? Could any other single consultant have such an outsized impact on the industry again? It’s a tough question to unpack. The wine world has changed, as has the role of the consultant.
A lot of Rolland’s influence and approach was formed and refined in the pre-internet days. “Today, the global exchange of knowledge is far more accessible than it was even a decade ago,” says Hobbs. “As a result, there may be less need for outside consultants in established regions.”
Now, winemakers can trade knowledge online. And they travel — California producers visit areas like Burgundy, New Zealand, Canada, and Armenia regularly.
“The internet has leveled the playing field in the positive way that winemakers and growers can exchange information easily,” says Master Sommelier Madeline Triffon of Plum Market. “They stage in various regions, learn solid techniques. You run across very few flawed wines these days.”
With the way technology has advanced, it’s easier than ever to make a good wine — although, perhaps not a great one. Precision viticulture tools like drones and sensors can help with managing viticulture. AI can help winemakers predict ripeness and optimal picking times. And AI-informed tools like Tastry can cut out a lot of the winemaking work — the platform’s Compublend technology can blend your wines for you to match your target demographic “in a matter of minutes,” the brand advertises.
“While it’s great for a winemaker to have a signature, the reality is that (with some exceptions) these consultants are often paid top dollar to do one thing: secure the highest critical scores. Too often, they achieve this by playing it safe, chasing new oak, and leaning heavily into branding. It strips the wine of its identity and masks the terroir entirely.”
Stylistic preferences have changed. To speak in gross generalizations, Rolland leaned towards bigger, oak-influenced wines, aligned with his peer Robert Parker — the dominant, deciding voice in the wine world at the time. “Whether you loved or hated his style, it was a style that endured for 40 years,” says Master Sommelier Lindsey Geddes of Carver Road Hospitality.
Palates and purchasing values have shifted. “Ten years ago, having a famous consultant attached to a project was a massive marketing tool,” says Baker-Briggs. “Today, the market is undeniably focused on those who do things with their own hands. Collectors are looking for the exact opposite of a manufactured wine. They want the person, the story, and the true sense of place and terroir.”
Look at the incoming guard of consultants — people like Sashi Moorman, a natural wine scion who consults for places like The Set in Sta. Rita Hills. Napa-based winemaker Steve Matthiasson — a viticultural icon — consults on projects across the globe. And though he’s taking a step back from the production side right now, Rajat Parr (Domaine de la Côte, Sandhi, Evening Land, Phelan Farms) has had a major influence in cool-climate California winemaking, chasing acidity and freshness and employing a lower-intervention, light-touch style of winemaking.
“The job description for a consulting winemaker has completely changed,” says Baker-Briggs. “The climate no longer supports the heavy-handed, ‘point-chasing’ style of the past.” And in the ever-expanding world of wine — a world with more media outlets, more critics, more voices on social media, and crowdsourcing review apps like Vivino — there isn’t just one universally accepted “correct” style anymore. Cabernet is still king to some, but that’s not majority rule. The industry is more globalized — the average drinker is used to drinking across white, pink, orange, and chilled red, and more fluent in alt- or obscure-grape varieties.
All that considered, there will always be space for those who make good wine. “At the end of the day, the wine is either in the glass or not,” Triffon says.
The article Will There Ever Be Another Michel Rolland? Where Wine Consulting Stands After the Loss of the First Flying Winemaker appeared first on VinePair.