Georgia’s wine industry is experiencing a dynamic evolution, marked by contrasting approaches to both tradition and modernity. Known as the cradle of viticulture, the country’s deep-rooted wine culture is inseparable from its landscape and society, with unique practices such as fermenting wine in buried clay vessels called qvevri. However, the sector today reflects a divide between preservation of ancient methods and the pursuit of international acclaim.

One prominent figure driving the modernizing wave is Irakli Gilauri, former CEO of the Bank of Georgia, who is investing heavily in creating what he aims to position as the country’s first world-class wine. Gilauri has acquired fruit from Vine Hill Ranch in California’s Napa Valley and is developing a winery in Georgia’s key wine-producing region, Kakheti, with the assistance of Bordeaux consultancy Rolland et Associés. Emphasizing refinement and global standards, Gilauri has expressed skepticism about the reliance on traditional qvevri winemaking, describing current Georgian wines as “rustic” and suggesting that the qvevri persisted largely due to lack of investment alternatives. At a recent blind tasting in Georgia, his red wine reportedly ranked second behind Château Ausone, a Bordeaux first growth. Gilauri’s wines, including a barrel-fermented dry Chardonnay, aim to break Georgia’s historical dependency on Russia, which currently absorbs about 65 percent of Georgian wine exports, mostly semi-sweet and basic in style. He has chosen “Resistance” as the brand name, reflecting a broader national context of Russian occupation in parts of Georgian territory and ongoing geopolitical tension.

In contrast, other advocates of Georgian wine emphasize the country’s traditional, natural methods and the unique character imparted by the qvevri process. Douglas Wregg, a major importer of Georgian natural wines into the UK, champions what are known as “amber” or orange wines—whites made with extended skin contact yielding deep color and astringency, often accompanied by earthy, clay-influenced notes. Wregg values the cultural significance of these wines, which are frequently tied to Georgian communal celebrations featuring song and dance. He maintains that qvevri winemaking, although representing only a small minority of production (less than 10 percent), is a potent symbol of Georgian identity and stands as a counterpoint to the industrialized, Soviet-era wine industry that prioritized volume over quality.

The industry’s recent history is marked by geopolitical and economic challenges. In 2006, Russia effectively banned Georgian wine imports—a move widely seen as retaliation for Georgia’s pro-European Union orientation. This disruption forced Georgian producers to refine their offerings and seek new markets, with the UK emerging as a notable destination. Meanwhile, a national grapevine nursery is currently cataloging and genetically analyzing the country’s extensive variety of indigenous grape varieties, numbering in the hundreds, a contrast to the Soviet-era focus on a narrow selection of commercial grapes.

Efforts to promote Georgian wines internationally involve specialists such as Master of Wine Sarah Abbott, who curates tastings highlighting qvevri wines to introduce their distinctiveness to markets like the UK. While some see a tension between honoring millennia-old traditions and the need to modernize and expand global reach, others view this duality as a defining feature of Georgian wine’s identity today.

Tbilisi-based importer Olivier Sauvage encapsulates this complexity by characterizing Georgian wine as “8,000 years of history, 30 years of experience,” reflecting a long heritage now intersecting with contemporary ambitions. The country’s wine scene, thus, remains a work in progress, balancing its ancient cultural roots with aspirations for international recognition.