Doing it my way

He maybe the son of legendary winemaker Peter Lehmann, but let it be clear, Dave is his own man.

David Franz Lehmann, David Franz Wines

David Franz Lehmann is the architect of his destiny which has led him to opening a Cellar Door on Stelzer Road, Tanunda, where art, wine and history are blended as skilfully as the wine he makes just a few metres away.

The sound of gravel crunching under tyres is an inviting sound along the driveway to the original 1860s cottage among the vines, a stone’s throw from the renovated bluestone home where Dave, his wife, Nicki and their three children live.

There’s nothing pretentious here, apart from the million-dollar view of the Barossa Ranges beyond, and that’s exactly how Dave wants it.

A chirpy “G’day” from this tee-shirt and jeans clad Barossan reveals a larrikin within – there’s no doubt he’s a chip off the old block as anyone who knew his late father would recognise.

And in a nod to that self-deprecating sense of fun, a photo of Dave poking his face through a waterfall of grape juice reveals that the creator of “David Franz Wines” is fully immersed in his role as an artisan winemaker.

Dave admits to “getting giggly excited” about the following vintage halfway through the previous, so it comes as a surprise to learn he never wanted to be a winemaker.

“I think there was such a weight of expectation being Dad’s son; for me, it was just being bl**dy minded and saying no, I’m not doing that,” Dave says.

“At Primary School I wanted to be a cartoonist and then it morphed into wanting to be an illustrator/graphic designer. That, plus music – I just fell in love with the trumpet.

“I always just thought if I went into winemaking, I would spend half the time being compared to what Dad did and the other half having everyone assume it was handed to me on a silver platter because of who Dad was.

“For me, it was about really desperately wanting to do my own thing. I just wanted to do something on my own terms and gain whatever success out of life off my own back.”

Yet Dave is proud of his background as he tells of an “idyllic childhood”, growing up in the Valley.

Born in Angaston and living at Mamre Brook House next door to Saltram’s Winery where his late father worked at the time, Dave’s Mum, Margaret worked as an English teacher at Nuriootpa High School.

“I have bits of memories of crushing and open fermenters as a kid, growing up,” he says.

The Lehmanns moved to The Willows, the former hospital at Light Pass, before shifting to the very house that Dave and his family would eventually buy, decades later.

From here he saw the hard work of his parents pay off as the Peter Lehmann empire grew, before moving into the homestead built close to the winery, where Margaret still lives today.

“Mum had three simple rules: Look after your teeth, don’t be brought home by the police or have her hear about what we’ve been up to by someone down the street; and don’t bring a girl home pregnant –  pretty simple!” Dave laughs.

Meanwhile, he was honing his skills as an artist and building his portfolio.

“I got into a course called Human Environments which was a mixture between interior design and architecture.

“I was away from home, chasing girls and beers. I just had a ball in my first year of uni!”

A decision to take a gap year led him to working a vintage at St. Hallett’s; staying with his older sister in Queensland “vegie picking and stuff”; and working on a broad-acre farm on the West coast.

“I came back and decided to go back to my course, made it about a month into that, met Nicki, then chased her!”

Both lived at Lincoln College at the time, Nicki was studying at the International College of Hotel Management whilst Dave was “sort of stuttering along” in his course before launching off again.

“With Nicki’s course they would do half year study, half year placement. She ticked off for a placement so I threw in my course and chased her to Brampton Island.”

Although he had always planned on studying graphic design, Dave never did.

“I worked out if you are going to be a graphic designer, you don’t just get paid to sit around and doodle, you actually have to meet a brief and more often than not, it’s going to be stupid. I just went nah.

“I completed a business hospitality course at TAFE and then Nicky and I got married after she finished her course.”

Receiving “around the world” tickets from their parents as a wedding gift, the newlyweds embarked on a working honeymoon which took them from a South African winery a year after the Apartheid ended; to England, where Dave worked in the retail side of the wine industry.

“It was more about travelling and getting any job you could get your hands on.”

They travelled for 11 months before they “fast tracked it” home.

“When we found out Nicki was pregnant, I thought heck, life is going to get serious. I really enjoyed my vintage at St. Hallett’s previously and I really enjoyed the actual winemaking side of things in South Africa – so it was all starting to tick the boxes.

“I remember ringing Dad and saying to him, Dad, I’ve decided what I’m going to do. I’m going to come home and be a winemaker, I want to start my own winery.

“He said no you’re not, you’re going to come home and work out in the vineyards.”

That’s exactly what happened.

Dave and Nicki returned to the Barossa, shifted into their current home, initially renting it from Dave’s parents, and baby Georgia was born, the first of three.

Meet the Lehmanns: Alex, 12; Georgia, 19; Ben, 16; Dave and Nicki.

Dave worked for Daryl Hearnden, who was managing the Lehmann vineyards as well as other Barossa properties at the time.

“I got handed the vineyard equivalent of a broom…and just started working.”

After a number of years, Dave found himself managing the Peter Lehmann home block of 75-80 acres, and in 2002 he began working directly for his parents.

By then he, and younger brother Phil, had convinced their father to give them some fruit, Cabernet and Shiraz to make their first wine.

“It was probably more driven by Phil because he was doing a vintage at PL.

“For us, doing that first vintage was like walking up to the pokies, dropping in a dollar and getting $500 back. It was a great year. You had to try really hard to make a bad wine in ’98, you had to really mess things up. We immediately thought how good are we? This tastes great!

“1999 was my first solo vintage…By that stage I was hooked, I just knew this was what I wanted to do.”

It was a conscious decision not to have the Lehmann name feature prominently on the wine labels that now feature on his eclectic range of wines, ranging from flavourful Cabernets, his favourite, to his quirky “Red Rose”, an aromatic blend of 108 grape varieties sourced mainly from Kevin Bartsch’s “fruit salad” block down the road.

“That’s a cool story that’s reverse engineered from the truth!” he laughs.

“I have a crazy, broad range of wines but every wine has a reason for being there – mainly because I like to drink it!”

Dave’s childhood dream of being a graphic designer has also been realised in his winemaking venture by the creation of detailed, tactile labels which he designs and silk-screens directly onto each bottle, inviting the touch of those seeking a unique, artisanal offering.

“It’s just trying to express what the guts inside the bottle is… I just start with an un-labelled bottle version of it, drink it and then try and get some inspiration.

For Dave, his career path forms part of a much bigger picture which includes family, “good design, good flavour, good people”; the ability to see the funny side of life and an outlook he calls “realistic optimism”.

“It’s the joys of life expressed through the physical: what we are eating, what we are drinking, what we are looking at and listening to – everything. Life’s got to have that underlying enjoyment.”

A mad keen science fiction reader and closet chef, Dave says both are forms of meditation. And he can neither confirm or deny being a member of the rumoured Barossa “tomahawk steak” eating club, where salads are only table decorations.

“Can’t discuss that!” he laughs as he gets a little philosophical.

“Whether there is something beyond this particular plane of existence, I don’t know, none of us do until we’re gone, so I’m making the absolute most of it!

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