There’s a very old and delicious love affair between art and wine—one that runs from myth to ritual, from the studio to the supper table. Wine shows up in paintings as symbol, as story, and as plain social pleasure: it carries religious weight (think sacrament), classical myth, and the everyday conviviality that artists and patrons both enjoyed and documented.
One of the most famous examples is probably Leonardo da Vinci’s The Last Supper. From Wiki: "The painting fixes the moment when Christ announces that one of the apostles will betray him; the communal meal and the cups on the table signal the wine’s sacramental meaning—wine as the blood of Christ and the center of ritual togetherness in Christian iconography. Leonardo stages that intimacy with geometric clarity and theatrical grouping." So, the wine is part of both the narrative and the composition.
Moving from sacrament to celebration, Diego Velázquez’s The Triumph of Bacchusshows the other side of wine’s presence in art: myth and merriment. Also from Wiki, "Bacchus, god of wine, stands among ordinary drinkers in a scene that blends classical allegory and street-level realism—Velázquez gives the god a human scale and places wine at the center of sociability, mischief, and release." The painting could be read as both a playful homage to wine’s capacity for joy and as a meditation on how myth and everyday life mingle in Spanish culture.
Across centuries and styles, wine functions in paintings both as a symbol (sacrifice, transcendence, excess) and as a lived thing: a prop that signals class, ritual, festivity, or quiet domesticity. From northern European peasant scenes where flagons and cups identify a marriage feast, to the elegant still lifes of the Dutch Golden Age that celebrate sensory abundance, wine helps artists say who we are and how we live together.
So why am I talking about wine on this lovely Wednesday? Well, because we go through a lot of it. On a typical ArtWalk, we pour roughly six cases of large bottles—about 400 glasses of wine—and that doesn’t even count the punch. If my math is correct, we’ve hosted around ten shows a year for twenty years. That’s at least 80,000+ glasses of wine shared over two decades of openings, weddings, poetry readings, and countless other celebrations. It’s safe to say that wine has become as much a part of the gallery’s story as the paintings on the walls.
And since every good art text ends with a practical note: what to drink while looking at (or living with) works of art? I asked the internet to pair a wine with The Last Supper and The Triumph of Bacchusshows and here is the result: "If you want a wine that nods to Velázquez’s Spain, a versatile Tempranillo—whether a bright, youthful Rioja or a more oak-aged Reserva—pairs beautifully with savory tapas, cured meats, and the rustic pleasures that Velázquez seems to toast. For Leonardo and the Italian Renaissance, a classic Sangiovese from Chianti (think Chianti Classico) is an elegant companion: bright acidity and cherry-savory lift that refresh the palate between contemplative bites and slow-looking." Oh AI, I can only assume that when holding all the knowledge of wine history it will make a good decision but sometimes it gives people five hands, so who knows if this is good wine advice.
I'll end with the idea that wine has been both subject and soulmate to painting for millennia: it can consecrate a moment, animate a god, or simply make a gathering more drinkable. So, pour a glass, preferably something with a story, and let the pairings change the way you look at art. The brushstrokes will read differently after the first sip. Cheers to art and the wines that have kept it company through the centuries.
