I am an adherent, and interrogator, of the notion that great art is infused with the essence of its creator. I’m not talking style, form or genre, but rather the intrinsic link between what the artwork says and what the artist believes. The question being: how evident is this signature?
Is it, for example, possible to ascertain from Matthew Herbert’s catalogue of experimental electronica that he’s a human-rights advocate and social critic? Unhinged house music veering from danceable to discordant might not be the obvious template for revolutionary polemic, but Herbert samples his discourse, using the sounds made by malevolent multinationals and factory-farmed animals to construct beats and basslines. Ideology doesn’t inform the music. It is the music.
If you fail to hear all this, you can always access statements of intent that invariably accompany such works. And therein lies the flaw in this exercise. An artwork is hardly ever digested in a vacuum; there are very few blind tastings. Which is my segue into the follow-up question: how much of a whisky maker’s worldview makes it into the liquid? Impossible to say, but worth the wonder, which is where I’m going with this subjective take on a few great whisky personalities.

John Glaser
The person
When the founder of Compass Box recently announced he was moving on, whisky WhatsApp groups shed a collective tear. An indisputable trailblazer, Glaser leaves behind a legacy that’s a mixed bag of righteous rebellion, adamant advocacy and media mind games. Not one to go unnoticed, this audacious feather-ruffler made it his mission to push boundaries and buttons.
His bottles stand out. Designed by packaging experts Stranger & Stranger, the exquisite labels are emblazoned with fantastical names such as Art & Decadence, Phenomenology and Flaming Heart, oh-so-tastefully appealing to more than mere taste.
The product
Compass Box has released a number of extraordinary whiskies, from the silken peat of No Name No 1 to the fruity fullness of Myths & Legends II and the textured complexity of Three Year Old Deluxe. Core-range releases such as Orchard House and the Glasgow and Artist blends are excellent dailies. It feels that, of late, the brand’s hyperbolic hype has upstaged the liquid. Who knows, maybe with less fanfare, forthcoming drams will make more of a statement.

Andy Watts
The person
I am fortunate to have met and interviewed Watts on numerous occasions, always coming away encouraged by his generosity and enthusiasm. Asked to wear many hats by the James Sedgwick Distillery, he is undoubtedly the feather in the cap of South African whisky — the single reason our spirit is taken seriously on the world stage.
He appears to distil with arcane instinct, relying as much on detailed data as on happy coincidence.
I recall him speaking of that point at which science ends and magic takes over, and this almost accidental but always in control technique mirrors his life story. Leaving England to play cricket for Boland in 1982, whisky was never on the cards, but nobody told fate and we’re all the better for it.
The product
Like the many facets to his life, Watts doesn’t produce one-track whiskies. Comfortably switching between grain and malt, he caters to everyday drinkers with a number of core-range Three Ships expressions and the multi-award winning Bain’s Single Grain is consistently the best bang-for-buck dram on the market.
When given the freedom to experiment, he has used all sorts of casks, most notably with the annual Master’s Collection releases, the Bain’s Founder’s Collection and a handful of expressions for Private Barrel Co, of which the James Sedgwick Distillery 6 Year Old is an all-time favourite.

Mark Reynier
The person
There are those singular artists who patrol the outer realms of our collective awe — the savant-garde, if you will. They are universally adored and their fans will follow blindly as they tear up new territory. Think Björk’s layered musical output or Peter Greenaway’s multimedia film projects. In the whisky world, Reynier plays that role and terroir is his stamping ground.
I first heard him speak at NPF Tasting Room where, via Zoom, he railed most eloquently against the industrialised uniformity of modern-day whisky. With Waterford, his newish distillery in the south of Ireland, he is returning to what he believes are universal roots, repositioning whisky as the agricultural product it always has been. I got to interview him a while back and he continued where he left off, schooling me — as he whizzed through France on a high-speed train — on ancient flavour profiles, how to maintain farming relationships and winemaking processes.
The product
Waterford whiskies are relentless, almost confrontational. Sipping one is like being in the room as Dr Frankenstein tinkers with monstrous new flavour profiles, tweaking them to show no mercy and wreak hallowed havoc. The spirit performs literal backflips when peated and the Heritage Hunter, Arcadian Barley is akin to tasting an ancient mystery. Add to this everything Reynier achieved at Bruichladdich — from Port Charlotte’s intricacies to Octomore’s intransigence — and you have one of the most abundant, uncompromising portfolios in the business.

The Dewar Brothers
The people
In 1880, brothers John Alexander and Thomas Robert took over Dewar’s from their recently departed father. The pair’s opposing personalities created an unexpected balance. The former was sensible and meticulous while the latter was a maverick, described as a raconteur and bon viveur.
John took on the responsibilities of blending and business-building, while Tommy took to the road, turning into a supreme salesman with a flair for publicity. He hired bagpipers to blast away and attract crowds to his stand at an expo, installed a billboard made up of 1,400 coloured bulbs (the largest mechanical sign in Europe at the time) and claimed, in 1897, to have produced the first filmed commercial, featuring drunken, dancing Highlanders. Of course.
The product
My somewhat limited experience of Dewar’s involves a brief visit to its Aberfeldy Distillery, and its once-secret Scotch Egg Club. Unconventional, unexpected and quirky, it perfectly captures the spirit of Tommy’s eccentric shen.




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