Becoming Saltare: the story of a label

I recently cleared up some old files in our tasting room and came across an archive-worthy sheet: a magazine page with a line drawing of a curling rose vine that today features as a tinted varnish cover on Saltare’s wine labels.

It took me straight back to 2007. At the time we lived on a rose farm in Rustenberg, Ida’s Valley, where the most beautiful roses permeated our cottage. I wanted a wrap-around label and had played with the concept of the name flowing into rose vines. From my pencil sketches we went to an illustrator in Riebeeck Kasteel, who created several rose designs, none of which quite worked for me.

Pencil sketch of my initial label idea

I recalled a Sunday morning when my partner and I sat in a coffee shop at the corner of Church and Bird in Stellenbosch. I paged through that magazine and there it was: a line drawing of climbing roses that could drape around the bottle. They have featured on our labels from that moment — remembering Ida’s Valley’s roses forever.

Magazine page with the rose vectors that inspired Saltare's rose vine motif

Our illustrator used an English Script typeface, removing some of the spiral ends from the S, and linked it to the vines. A perfect fit!

The old-gold colour was always going to be part of the design — the colour of my wedding dress, where Saltare’s first vintage was poured. The rest of the label finally fell into place: the brand name on the front in a simple sans serif typeface. At the time, wine labels were a sea of serif! We used a clean font called Myriad and decided to add the cultivar underneath the name in Times — not quite ready to go all sans serif yet.

The script and rose vines formed a background watermark that circled around to the back of the label, where a short text told the story of the name. We incorporated the dates of bottling and disgorging — as far as we know, a first for South African Cap Classique.

First label design and layout, the vine rose background displayed as a clear varnish

It is interesting to look back at that first label now. So much has changed in wine and in design, yet the essential idea was already there. The rose vines, the gold, the sense of movement in the name, and the desire for the bottle to feel elegant without being elaborate have all remained.

Since then, the Saltare logo and label have undergone just three significant changes.

Around 2010 we replaced the clean-looking Myriad font with Regencie, to communicate a little more minimalism and sophistication, and we capitalised the letters. The wine description reverted to a sans serif font – Avenir in small caps.

Saltare logo update with Regencie and Avenir typefaces

Five years later we approached a designer to redo the label entirely. His valiant attempts to introduce a dancer – Saltare means to dance – failed entirely, and we eventually ended up with a much simpler brief: tweak the individual letters of the name for better balance, spacing and weight.

We loved the result. We now had our own tailor-made font and logo.

Looking at these versions together, I realise that none of the changes were really attempts to become something different. Each was an attempt to become a little more ourselves.

That is also what happened with the wine.

As Saltare developed, so did our understanding of what made it distinctive: purity of flavour, freshness, low dosage and as little interference as possible with what comes from the vineyard. The wine became increasingly minimal in its expression, while the label followed in its own way — gradually shedding anything that wasn't necessary.

Which brings us to the latest version.

Inspired by the ever-increasing minimalism of Champagne branding — Roederer’s current Brut Nature concept was one point of reference — I recently worked with Stellenbosch design house Haumann & Smal to reimagine some of the label elements.

Our initial idea was to tone down the label colours to an almost papery texture. It was lovely. But, interestingly, it had the opposite effect on me: it made me want to go in the other direction.

Instead, we chose a different paper material, Opalux, which gives the background colours a delicate, powdery shimmer. We cleaned up the positioning of the elements on the back, gave the logo lettering just a little more weight, and added highbuild and a layer of varnish for a touch of boldness.

Saltare's current logo and label design

The result feels new, but also completely familiar.

And writing this, I realise there is a pattern here. A designer goes in one direction, which helps me discover that I want to move in another. It has happened often in my winemaking too. A cellar team or advisor would tell me that there is a particular way to prepare a wine, and I would stubbornly go ahead and follow my gut instead.

Perhaps that is part of becoming Saltare: knowing what to keep, knowing what to change, and occasionally discovering what you really want by being shown what you don't want.

There is something particularly satisfying about finding that old magazine page after all these years. The rose vine that caught my eye on a Sunday morning in 2007 is still there. It has survived every change of font, paper and layout. It has even survived the dancer.

This August, as we celebrate Women’s Month in South Africa, it is also all of 19 years since that first Saltare label. Saltare is made, owned and managed by a woman – and I am proud that over these years we have been part of the growing story of women in South African wine.

It has been wonderful to see the influence of women winemakers grow, and to see women taking their place across the wine industry as farmers, cellar masters, winemakers, owners, sommeliers and leaders.

Saltare has changed a lot since 2007. The wine has changed. The label has changed. We have changed.

But some things are worth keeping.

Like the roses from Ida’s Valley.

And the instinct to dance to our own rhythm.

Ida's Valley's roses forever