They called him "the Maestro". By definition this means "a distinguished musician, especially a conductor of classical music" or "a great or distinguished figure in any sphere". He was great. He was distinguished. He conducted beautiful music in the form of wine. Earlier in his career they called him "the doctor" because of his scientific approach to winemaking and his uncanny ability to cure wine with defects. And then there was that white lab coat he loved to wear.
He was also known as the "the dean of American winemaking" because he really was the head of the university. He was the educator. The absolute most important thing about this man and his legacy was not only his ability to be a highly effective and inspiring mentor, but also his willingness and love of doing so. Combine that with all of his knowledge and talents and you have the most influential winemaker of modern history: André Tchelistcheff (pronounced CHEL-uh-cheff)
André was born in Russia, trained in France, lifted California to greatness, and took off Washington State's training wheels. He was a chain smoker. He was a ladies man. He was... tiny. There are several different accounts on his height; anywhere from 4'11" to 5'3". Regardless, this giant of a man was even shorter than me (and I'm pretty short). But he commanded a room. And his stature was always at attention, or "ramrod straight" as
Randal Caparoso put it in "
Napa Valley - A legacy of greatness".
Robert Mondavi said that "He is a fascinating man, brilliant, stimulating, creative - a catalyst for the world of wine", while Mike Grgich said that "He had a Slavic heart, which is very soft". Robert and Mike are just two of the many legends that André mentored. And to think that almost didn't happen. André should have died in battle as a young man, and we're all very lucky that he didn't.