Josh Raynolds 1962 to 2023
On May 24th, Antonio Galloni announced that Vinous contributor Josh Reynolds had died.
I don't automatically hold those with the title of "critic" in high regard. The word immediately conjures up Theodor Roosevelt's quote, "It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the does of deeds could have done them better…". As a winemaker, I live in Roosevelt's "arena," toiling at my craft. I don't believe the commitment it takes to recognize greatness approaches the dedication it takes to create it. For reasons I've discussed before on this blog, I find it hard to trust critics.
I trusted Josh Raynolds. Josh's writing never pandered to the famous, high-powered, well-funded producer. Instead, his writing pursued and exhibited a purity that perfectly fit Pinot Noir and the Willamette Valley. He asked John Thomas if he could taste his wines; I believe he is the only reviewer granted the opportunity. When an elite producer was using their considerable resources to make the life of their former winemaker hell, Josh refused to review their wines. When a California producer pursued a style that lacked the inherent character of Oregon (or Pinot Noir) and arrogantly flaunted their contempt with misleading marketing messages, Josh delivered reviews intended to put them in their place (those reviewers were taken down soon after publishing). There was a sense of justice in Josh’s writing that set him far apart from his peers.
Josh came to Oregon. Often. Something that isn't as commonplace for wine critics as either producers or consumers would hope. He got to know the people as much as he got to know the wines. I met him in 2007 or 2008 at Nick's Italian Café in McMinnville. We hardly talked about wine, instead discussing Gram Parson's and The Fallen Angels, Nudie Suits, and Louis Pasteur. I doubt there was a Willamette Valley-focused event in New York, where he lived, that he wouldn't attend. He was a committed student of our region.
Josh's passing a loss to the Willamette Valley. We lost a reviewer that worked for many years to understand our region, its grapes, and its people. We lost an honest advocate. We lost a reliable scale by which we could judge our work and our vintages.
Wine criticism also lost something. It lost one of the last writers experienced in tasting, undistracted by trend and uninfluenced by prestige. He was more committed to understanding than declaring. Wine lost one of its truth-tellers.
Our loss is insignificant to that felt by his wife, daughters, and those who considered him an indispensable friend. I hope they find peace.