The Stay-at-Home Dad, the 400-Year-Old Vine & the Word He Uses for Everything: Viñador
In La Orotava and La Victoria de Acentejo, on the northern slopes of Tenerife, Claudio Miguel Luis Lorenzo tends 3.5 hectares of ungrafted vines — some over 300, even 400 years old — trained in Cordón Trenzado and parral bajo, making biodynamic, zero-sulphite wines without recipes, without additions, and without separating the work of the vine from the work of the cellar.
Origin — The Stay-at-Home Dad, Mentor Pepe & the Vineyard He Moved to in 2012
Claudio Miguel Luis Lorenzo did not arrive at wine through the conventional channels. He was not born into a winemaking dynasty. He did not study oenology at university. For years, he was a stay-at-home dad while his wife built a career in finance. He raised their children, managed the household, and watched from the sidelines as the wine world spun on without him. Then, one day, his children got interested in wine. And that small spark — the curiosity of his own kids — was enough to set him on a path that would transform not only his life but the landscape of natural wine in the Canary Islands.
Claudio began working harvests at a German-financed operation on Tenerife, where he met an older farmer named Pepe — his mentor, his teacher, and the man who would introduce him to a way of working that had already been forgotten by most. Pepe taught him traditional vineyard management and winemaking practices — methods from a period before herbicides, before standard planting plans, before the push toward easy mechanization. He taught Claudio to make wine without chemicals, without sulphur, without irrigation. He taught him to look at a 300-year-old vine not as a museum piece but as a working plant — something that still had fruit to give, if you knew how to ask.
In 2012, Claudio moved to a vineyard. He began working the land himself, with occasional help, learning the patience required by the Cordón Trenzado in the Orotava Valley — where the braided canes can run horizontally for twenty metres or more — and the low mesa or parral bajo in La Victoria de Acentejo, where the work is done close to the ground, all by hand. He learned from an older generation of farmers who had inherited practices that predated industrial agriculture. And he began to see what had been lost: old vines pulled out, international varieties planted in neat rows, training systems adapted to tractors rather than to the place.
He began making wine with sulphur, but his ambition was always to go further. In 2017, he released his first vintage without sulphites. The wine was severely reduced — so reductive that it was almost undrinkable. But Claudio did not panic. He put the bottles away and waited. Years later, after a long rest, the wine had recovered into something he was proud to pour. It was a lesson in patience over intervention — a lesson that would define everything that followed. Other experiments ended less well: some became vinegar. An orange wine, made away from home when a Tenerife fire came close to the house, was lost for lack of attention. But Claudio does not tell these stories as heroic failures. They are simply part of working without a recipe.
Today, Claudio uses one word for his work: viñador. He means someone who tends the vines, makes the wine, and sells it — without separating those jobs. He does not buy grapes. Most of the vineyard work is his. The boxes of harvested fruit may have to be carried one or two hundred metres before they reach a vehicle. The terrain prohibits heavy machinery. The vines prohibit easy answers. And Claudio, stained with harvest dirt and smiling, would not have it any other way.
The Place — Two Valleys, Two Training Systems & Vines That Remember the 17th Century
Bodega Marzagana Elementales works 3.5 hectares of volcanic soils across two distinct zones on the northern slope of Tenerife: the Valle de La Orotava and La Victoria de Acentejo. Both zones share the same Atlantic influence — the cool trade winds, the volcanic minerality, the proximity to the sea — but they express it through different topographies, different training systems, and different kinds of patience. The estate is organic certified and biodynamic — the only biodynamic producer on Tenerife — and all vineyard work follows the rhythm of the moon and the stars, strictly by hand, without heavy machinery, without synthetic inputs, and without irrigation.
La Orotava — Cordón Trenzado & the Braided Vines
In the Valle de La Orotava, Claudio works with the historic Cordón Trenzado — a system unique to this valley, in which the vine's canes are braided together along horizontal wires, creating living ropes of wood that can extend for twenty metres or more across the volcanic soil. These cordons, growing from their original base rootstock, are suspended above the ground with wooden crutches and allowed to grow along the length of the vineyard — a sight that, as one importer noted, is "like something from another world altogether." The vines here are ungrafted — the phylloxera louse never reached the Canary Islands — and many are 150, 200, 300, even 400 years old. Claudio speaks about them as working plants rather than museum pieces. They still produce fruit. They still demand attention. And they still reward the patience of a man who knows how to listen.
La Victoria de Acentejo — Parral Bajo & the Low Mesa
In La Victoria de Acentejo, the terrain demands a different kind of patience. Here, the vines are trained in low mesa or parral bajo — a system that requires the farmer to work close to the ground, pruning, tying, and harvesting all by hand. The altitude is higher — around 720 metres above sea level — and the soils are a mix of basalt and clay, producing wines of extraordinary elegance and restraint. The El Roque parcel sits here: Listán Negro vines, planted before phylloxera, that are more than three centuries into their lives. The fruit is carried down steep inclines in small boxes, one or two hundred metres at a time, before reaching a vehicle. There is no mechanization. There is no shortcut. There is only the vine, the man, and the gravity of the mountain.
Biodynamic — The Only One on Tenerife
Marzagana Elementales is the only biodynamic producer on Tenerife — a distinction that is not merely ceremonial but practical. Claudio follows biodynamic principles in the vineyard and the cellar: horsetail, chamomile, and nettle infusions replace the more invasive copper sulphate spray; preparations are applied according to the lunar calendar; and bottling is timed to the biodynamic calendar. The work is not esoteric. It is agricultural — a way of aligning human activity with the natural rhythms of the place. The result is vines that are not merely healthy but energetically coherent — a concept that sounds mystical until you taste the wine and understand that coherence has a flavor.
The Grapes — A Canarian Ark
The estate is planted to a diverse array of indigenous and adopted varieties: Albillo Criollo, Listán Blanco, Listán Negro, Negramoll, Vijariego Blanco, Marmajuelo, Castellana, Tintilla, and Syrah. Many of these vines are so old that their exact provenance is unknown. They are direct-rooted European vines — genetic relics of the pre-phylloxera Mediterranean — preserved in isolation on an Atlantic island for 500 years. Claudio does not fetishize their age. He simply tends them, harvests them, and allows them to express what centuries of volcanic soil, Atlantic wind, and human care have accumulated in their wood and their roots.
Winemaking — No Recipe, No Additions & the Barrel as a Living Vessel
Claudio's cellar philosophy can be summarized in a single, disarming principle: he distrusts the idea that a wine should taste the same every year. Coca-Cola was his comparison. He accepts that the alternative — wine as a living, vintage-specific expression of place — includes bad decisions and ruined wine. His answer to acidity is not tartaric acid or water in the cellar, but dry farming and an earlier harvest. His answer to reduction is not sulphur, but time and patience. His answer to inconsistency is not standardization, but acceptance. This is not the philosophy of a businessman. It is the philosophy of a viñador.
All fermentations are spontaneous — no commercial yeasts, no selected strains, no temperature control, no cold stabilization. Claudio firmly believes in the energy and phenomenal old-vine complexity of his grapes, and he respectfully refrains from adding anything to the wine at any point in the process. The grapes are handled in small baskets to perfectly preserve the tiny yields of each vine, then destemmed by hand. After fermentation, the wines are aged in a mix of vessels: steel fermenters, amphorae, old oak barrels, chestnut barrels, and even pine barrels — a nod to the fact that pine was the de-facto wine maturation vessel in the Canary Islands back when importing oak was prohibitively expensive.
For Pinarius, Claudio uses a barrel roughly two hundred years old, made from tea — the resinous heartwood of Canary Island pine. The wine stays there for 21 days. Any longer, and the wood overwhelms it with forest, mint, and eucalyptus. For the other wines, ageing periods range from 3–4 months to 9 months in old oak and chestnut — just enough to allow the wine to settle, to integrate, to become itself, without the vessel imposing a flavor. Claudio wants a barrel to become "un recipiente vivo" — a living vessel, not a flavoring agent. Used French oak is valuable precisely because it no longer tastes strongly of oak. It breathes. It allows micro-oxygenation. It carries the memory of previous vintages without shouting about it.
There is plenty of experimentation, though never for novelty alone. An orange wine made during a wildfire evacuation was lost for lack of attention. A zero-sulphite vintage was severely reduced for years before recovering into something beautiful. Some cuvées have been made and discarded. Others have evolved into something unexpected. Claudio does not present these experiments as heroic. They are simply part of working without a recipe — the cost of making wine that is alive rather than manufactured. And the wines that survive this process are, as one importer described them, "hard to draw comparison to" — beautifully perfumed, impossibly elegant, engagingly detailed, and crackling with electricity.
The Wines — From the Guanche God Achamán to the 300-Year-Old El Roque
Bodega Marzagana Elementales produces a small, focused range of wines — all made in tiny quantities, all spontaneously fermented, all without additions, and all expressing the volcanic, Atlantic, biodynamic character of their specific parcels. The labels are striking works of art — some referencing Guanche mythology, others Shakespeare, others the raw geology of the island. Each wine is different every year. Because Claudio does not follow a recipe. He follows the vine.
Marzagana Elementales "Achamán"
Orange / Skin-Contact — La Orotava, TenerifeNamed after Achamán, the patron god of the Guanche people — the indigenous inhabitants of the Canary Islands before the Spanish conquest — this wine is a tribute to the islands' pre-Hispanic history. Made from ungrafted Albillo Criollo with small parts of Listán Blanco and Vijariego, all from pie franco vines. The grapes spend 30 days on their skins, followed by 4 months of ageing in amphora. The result is a skin-contact wine of insane purity — rich citrus fruits and peels, rocky minerality, lush acidity, and a floral complexity that unfolds with each sip. For a zero-zero orange wine, it is remarkably clean and focused — a testament to the health of biodynamically farmed old vines and the patience of a winemaker who does not rush. ~12% ABV. Extremely limited.
Marzagana Elementales "Vita"
White — La Orotava, TenerifeA white wine from indigenous varieties — likely Albillo Criollo and/or Listán Blanco — farmed biodynamically on volcanic soils in the Valle de La Orotava. Fermented spontaneously with indigenous yeasts, aged in a mix of vessels (possibly steel, amphora, or old wood), and bottled without filtration, fining, or sulphites. The wine expresses the smoky, mineral, Atlantic character that defines volcanic whites from Tenerife — preserved lemon, crushed stone, sea salt, and a saline finish that speaks of the trade winds. Like all Marzagana wines, it is vintage-variable and produced in tiny quantities — a wine that changes from year to year because the vineyard changes, not because the winemaker decides it should. ~11.5–12% ABV. Extremely limited.
Marzagana Elementales "Echeyde"
Red — La Orotava, TenerifeMade from 100% Listán Negro — the signature red grape of the Canary Islands — from ungrafted, biodynamically farmed vines on volcanic soils. Minimal intervention, no added sulphites, unfiltered. The wine is a pure expression of Listán Negro's capacity for elegance and Atlantic freshness — red cherry, wild strawberry, Mediterranean herbs, and a long, mineral finish that carries the imprint of the volcanic earth. The label design is stark and geometric — a triangle of volcanic stone — reflecting Claudio's belief that the wine should speak for itself, without ornament. A wine for those who understand that simplicity is not the absence of complexity, but its distillation. ~12% ABV. Extremely limited.
Marzagana Elementales "Higa"
Red — La Orotava, TenerifeA blend of Listán Negro and Tintilla Castellana — two indigenous red varieties that have coexisted in Canarian vineyards for centuries. The Tintilla adds a layer of dark fruit, spice, and structural depth to the lighter, more aromatic Listán Negro. Farmed biodynamically, hand-harvested in small baskets, destemmed by hand, and aged in old oak or chestnut barrels. The result is a wine of remarkable detail and volcanic intensity — black cherry, wild herbs, smoked paprika, and a finish that tastes of basalt and Atlantic mist. The label features a spiraling, almost hypnotic design — a visual echo of the wine's unfolding complexity. ~12% ABV. Extremely limited.
Marzagana Elementales "Cielo y Tierra"
Red — La Orotava, TenerifeMade from Syrah — the one international variety that Claudio kept in his vineyards because, as he says, "no hay que ser radical tampoco" — you don't have to be radical either. The Syrah was planted during the period when international varieties were fashionable on Tenerife, but Claudio recognized that this particular parcel, on this particular soil, produced something worth keeping. Farmed biodynamically, fermented spontaneously, and aged in old barrels. The result is a Syrah unlike any from the Rhône or Australia — lighter, more mineral, infused with volcanic smoke and Atlantic salinity. It is a wine that proves Claudio's point: that the best decisions in the vineyard are not ideological but sensory. ~12% ABV. Extremely limited.
Marzagana Elementales "Pinarius"
Red — La Orotava, TenerifeThe most distinctive wine in the Marzagana range — aged for exactly 21 days in a barrel roughly 200 years old, made from tea, the resinous heartwood of Canary Island pine. This was the traditional maturation vessel of the islands before imported oak became available — a piece of living history that Claudio uses with surgical precision. The wine (likely Listán Negro or a blend) absorbs a subtle resinous, foresty character — notes of mint, eucalyptus, and wild pine — without being overwhelmed. Any longer than 21 days, and the wood would dominate. Any shorter, and the wine would miss the conversation. The label features an old photograph — a window into the past, just as the barrel is a window into the islands' pre-industrial winemaking tradition. ~12% ABV. Extremely limited.
Marzagana Elementales "Mago del Norte"
Red — La Orotava / La Victoria, TenerifeA red blend from multiple parcels across Claudio's 3.5 hectares — likely dominated by Listán Negro with contributions from Negramoll, Castellana, and possibly Syrah. The name translates as "The Magician of the North" — a nod to the almost alchemical transformation that occurs when ancient vines, volcanic soil, and biodynamic care converge in the cellar. The wine is rich and intense — black fruit, wild herbs, volcanic smoke, and a structure that belies its moderate alcohol. Aged in old oak and chestnut barrels for 3–9 months. Bottled according to the biodynamic calendar. The result is a wine that "crackles with electricity" — a living, evolving expression of Tenerife's northern slopes. ~12–13% ABV. Extremely limited.
Marzagana Elementales "El Roque"
Red — La Victoria de Acentejo, TenerifeThe flagship and most celebrated wine of the estate — 100% Listán Negro from a high vineyard in La Victoria de Acentejo, around 720 metres above sea level. The vines, planted before phylloxera, are extraordinarily old — some more than three centuries into their lives. That fact almost invites the wrong expectations: a wine from vines of that age ought, according to the usual script, to announce its depth and importance with weight and concentration. El Roque does the opposite. It is elegant, restrained, and remarkably well proportioned — lush, textured, and complex with beautiful earthiness, black fruits, wild herbs, blue flowers, exotic spices, and a delightfully long finish. One taster compared it to the great houses of Nuits-Saint-Georges, particularly Yann Durieux. The label features an illustration from Shakespeare's "A Midsummer Night's Dream" — the trickster Puck interacting with the fairy queen Titania — reinforcing Claudio's ambition to create classic wines that transcend their volcanic origins. ~12% ABV. 3 months in old oak. Extremely limited.
Legacy — The Viñador, the 400-Year-Old Working Plant & the Wine That Needs No Explanation
Marzagana Elementales matters because it represents the most uncompromising natural wine project in the Canary Islands — the work of a man who was not born into wine, who did not study wine, and who did not inherit a winery, but who simply decided that the most honest way to live was to tend vines, make wine, and sell it without separating those jobs. In a world where "natural wine" has become a marketing category, Claudio's practice is a rejection of category itself — a refusal to standardize, to recipe-ize, to make Coca-Cola when the vineyard is offering something far more interesting.
Their legacy is agricultural. By working 3.5 hectares of ungrafted vines — some 400 years old — by maintaining the Cordón Trenzado in La Orotava and the parral bajo in La Victoria, by farming biodynamically (the only producer on Tenerife to do so), by using horsetail and chamomile instead of copper sulphate, by harvesting everything by hand in small baskets, and by carrying those baskets one or two hundred metres before they reach a vehicle, Claudio has created a model for viticulture that is closer to monastic devotion than to agribusiness. He has shown that the most difficult, laborious, and apparently irrational way of farming can produce the most meaningful wines — not because they are rare, but because they are true.
Their legacy is oenological. The El Roque — 100% Listán Negro from 300+ year old vines at 720 metres, 3 months in old oak, zero sulphites — is a wine that has been compared to Nuits-Saint-Georges, a comparison that would seem absurd if you had not tasted it. The Achamán — 30 days on skins, 4 months in amphora, zero-zero orange wine — is a skin-contact white of such purity that it challenges every assumption about what natural orange wine should taste like. The Pinarius — 21 days in a 200-year-old pine barrel — is a wine that connects the drinker to the pre-industrial Canary Islands, to a time when oak was an import and pine was the only wood available. And the Mago del Norte — a field blend of ancient varieties, biodynamically farmed, bottled by the moon — is a wine that crackles with the electricity of a place where the volcano, the Atlantic, and 400 years of human care converge in a single glass.
And their legacy is philosophical. Claudio's conviction — that a wine should not taste the same every year, that reduction is not a flaw but a phase, that acidity is solved in the vineyard not the cellar, that a barrel should be a living vessel not a flavoring agent, and that the best way to honor a 400-year-old vine is to get out of its way — has resonated with a wine culture that is increasingly suspicious of formula. His wines are not loud. They do not shout. They move — as he said, "Es complicado emocionar" — it is difficult to move someone. But El Roque did. And so does the rest of the range.
From the stay-at-home dad who learned from an old farmer named Pepe, to the viñador who carries boxes of grapes up a slope too steep for machinery, from the 400-year-old vines of La Victoria to the braided cordons of La Orotava, from the biodynamic calendar to the 200-year-old pine barrel, Marzagana Elementales is a testament to what happens when a person decides that the most interesting wines are not made by following recipes but by listening to vines — vines that have been speaking for four centuries, waiting for someone patient enough to hear them. The vine has spoken. The viñador listens. And the drinker, if fortunate enough to find a bottle, is moved.