The Living Wines & the Kawaii Ciders

The story of Les Vins Vivants begins not in a vineyard but in a restaurant — Auxamis, a Tokyo establishment whose owner was a pioneer who introduced natural wine to Japan in 1990 through his import business Passion du Vin. He was a devoted admirer of natural winegrowers such as Philippe Pacalet, Dard et Ribo, and the great names of the Beaujolais renaissance. It was here, in 2004, that Takahiro Ogino began working alongside Tomoko, initially as colleagues in the service of wine and food. Through conversations about the depth and complexity of natural wine — wines that spoke of place, of vintage, of the hands that made them rather than the laboratories that designed them — Takahiro became increasingly fascinated by winemaking. He had no prior farming experience, no family vineyard, no inherited cellar. What he had was a desire — a conviction that wine could be made differently, that the industrial model was not the only path, and that he could learn to create something alive.

This conviction led him to Grace Wine in Yamanashi Prefecture — the estate that played a key role in spreading the reputation of "Koshu wine" internationally and that represented the pinnacle of Japanese fine wine production. For six years, Takahiro immersed himself in the technical foundations of the craft: two years studying winemaking, three years studying viticulture, absorbing the disciplines of fermentation science, canopy management, soil analysis, and the thousand small decisions that transform grape into wine. Grace Wine provided the structure, the rigour, and the standards against which all subsequent work would be measured. But it was not enough. Takahiro had tasted natural wine in Paris and Lyon, had felt the difference between a wine made with selected yeasts and one fermented by the wild populations that live on grape skins, had understood that the living wines he admired required not merely technique but a different philosophy entirely. And so, after leaving Grace, he went to France.

The French apprenticeship was transformative. Takahiro visited and worked with the producers who had shaped his imagination: Philippe Pacalet in Burgundy, whose whole-cluster fermentations and gentle extraction produce wines of haunting transparency; Marcel Lapierre and Jean-Paul Lapalu in Beaujolais, whose natural, low-intervention Gamays had redefined what the grape could achieve; Pierre Frick in Alsace, a biodynamic pioneer whose commitment to zero sulfur and wild fermentation set a standard of purity that few could match; Dard et Ribo in the Rhône, whose Syrah and Marsanne expressed the rugged beauty of Crozes-Hermitage with minimal manipulation; and Miroirs, whose precise, terroir-driven wines demonstrated that natural winemaking could achieve elegance as well as authenticity. These were not merely visits; they were immersions — weeks and months in cellars where fermentation was watched rather than controlled, where sulfur was absent or minimal, where the vigneron's role was to guide rather than to dominate. Takahiro returned to Japan not with a recipe but with a sensibility — an understanding of what natural wine could be, and a determination to create it in his own country, on his own terms.

Meanwhile, Tomoko had been developing her own expertise. After the couple relocated to Tomi City in Nagano Prefecture in 2015 — a move driven by Takahiro's belief that Yamanashi had become too warm for the cool-climate varieties he dreamed of cultivating — Tomoko studied vinification and apple cultivation for two years at JA Shinshu Ueda Farm. While Takahiro brought the French philosophy and the Yamanashi technique, Tomoko brought the practical knowledge of fruit cultivation, the understanding of Nagano's specific conditions, and a vision that extended beyond wine to cider — a beverage that, in Japan, had been relegated to the status of cheap, sweet, industrial product, but that Tomoko and Takahiro believed could be transformed into something as complex, as terroir-driven, and as alive as the greatest natural wines of France. In 2019, they founded Les Vins Vivants — the name derived from the French words vins ("wines") and vivants ("living"), expressing their philosophy of producing wines and ciders that are not sterilised, stabilised, or standardised, but that breathe, evolve, and express the vitality of their origins.

At Les Vins Vivants, the philosophy of natural winemaking is not a marketing position but a technical and ethical commitment that governs every decision in the cellar. Fermentation relies exclusively on wild yeast — the indigenous populations that live on grape skins, in the vineyard air, and on the surfaces of the cellar itself. No selected, laboratory-cultured yeasts are introduced; no enzymes, nutrients, or additives of any kind are used. The wines are vegan — no animal-derived fining agents such as egg white, gelatin, or isinglass touch the wine. And critically, no sulphites are added at any stage — from harvest through fermentation, ageing, and bottling. This is not merely low-sulfur winemaking; it is zero-sulfur winemaking, a level of purity that demands immaculate grape health, pristine cellar hygiene, and a willingness to accept the risks that come with allowing wine to develop without the safety net of chemical preservatives.

The winemaking is hands-on and traditional. For the Bailey A Hakkoutai — the estate's signature red made from 100% Muscat Bailey A sourced from Takahiro's hometown of Yamanashi — whole-cluster semi-carbonic maceration is performed in open-top stainless steel tanks without destemming or crushing. On the fourth day after starting the winemaking process, Takahiro enters the tank and crushes the grapes firmly with his feet to promote fermentation — an ancient technique that provides gentle extraction and preserves the fruit's aromatic freshness. Pigeage is performed daily thereafter. Pressing takes place about one month after the start of the winemaking process, using a pneumatic membrane press, and the juice is then aged in 500-litre foudres for approximately eleven months before the lees are removed and the wine is bottled. The result is a wine of subtle sweet aroma reminiscent of strawberry jam, with calm, aged aromas of damp earth and tobacco leaves — round, smooth, and classic in feel, with a lingering umami flavour and an autumnal finish reminiscent of fallen leaves.

For the Gera Gera — a rosé of extraordinary complexity — the approach is equally meticulous. Grapes are sourced from Aomori Prefecture and from Tomi City and Chikuma City in Nagano: Steuben, Shine Muscat, Kyoho, Mourvèdre, Petit Verdot, Sangiovese, Nagano Purple, Roussanne, Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, and Cabernet Franc. Some are destemmed, some pressed whole bunch. The Steuben and Shine Muscat are direct-pressed without maceration, then aged sur lie for six months in stainless steel tanks. The result is a wine the colour of sunset, with an aroma first of Muscat fruit tea, then vibrant Steuben and Shine Muscat aromatics, cherry-like acidity, herbal nuances reminiscent of aloe, and a solid structure from the Bordeaux varieties that provides full-bodied satisfaction. The umami unfolds slowly on the tongue, with subtle hints of fennel and dill, and the elegance of Earl Grey, white peach compote, and tropical fruit elements like mango and pineapple — all tied together by calming nuances of Pu-erh tea and hojicha that prevent sweetness from becoming cloying.

The cider production is equally rigorous and equally natural. Inspired by a remarkable natural cider from La Cidrerie du Golfe in France — "rich, deep, and complex, with a delicious flavour of apple" — Takahiro and Tomoko set out to create ciders that would challenge the Japanese perception of cider as cheap, sweet, and insignificant. They employ the traditional Méthode Ancestrale: the cider is bottled during the final stage of primary fermentation, allowing fermentation to finish naturally in the bottle. This technique enhances balance while preserving the authentic expression of the apples. Compared to grapes, apples have lower sugar content and higher acidity, making fermentation with wild yeast and secondary fermentation more technically challenging — but the cidery is temperature-controlled to minimise the risk of bacterial contamination, allowing safe fermentation using only wild yeast. The ciders are not imitations of European products; they are original creations made from Nagano apples, expressing a specifically Japanese character that is both familiar and surprising.

An essential part of Les Vins Vivants' identity is the artwork on their labels, designed by illustrator Yunico Uchiyama. The collaboration began when Tomoko was drawn to his illustrations, which she describes as embodying the same qualities she seeks in her ciders: "innocent, young, and like a teenage girl." This expression reflects their hope that the next generation — free from preconceived notions about wine or cider — will feel comfortable picking up their bottles. Tomoko expressed her desire to name the ciders after colours, and the names Mizuiro (Light Blue), Ao (Blue), and Hakuro (White Dew) emerged from Uchiyama's imagination as he tasted the cider and created the illustrations. He is, in a sense, the godfather of their ciders — a creative partner who translates the liquid into visual language. The labels and names, born from the dialogue between Tomoko and Yunico Uchiyama, can be seen as an embodiment of "Japanese KAWAII" — a uniquely Japanese aesthetic of charm, innocence, and playfulness that sets Les Vins Vivants apart from the solemn, masculine visual language that dominates much of the natural wine world.

The cider programme at Les Vins Vivants is not an afterthought or a side project; it is a central pillar of the estate's identity, born from the same philosophical commitment that guides the wine production and executed with the same technical rigour. The journey began with a single bottle — a natural cider from La Cidrerie du Golfe in France that Takahiro and Tomoko encountered while meeting various French producers. The experience was transformative: "Rich, deep, and complex, with a delicious flavour of apple. We were shocked to discover such a remarkable cider. We then thought that we wanted to grow apples with our own hands and produce ciders of the same quality in Japan. No — we thought we should." This was not merely admiration; it was a sense of obligation, a recognition that Japan's apple-growing tradition — centred in Nagano, one of the country's most renowned apple-producing regions — deserved a cider that matched the quality of its fruit.

In Japan, wine is generally preferred over cider, and cider has been relegated to a category of inexpensive, sweet, mass-produced beverages that bear little resemblance to the complex, terroir-driven ciders of Normandy, Brittany, or the Basque Country. Takahiro and Tomoko aim to challenge this perception — not by imitating European ciders, but by creating something distinctly Japanese from Nagano apples. Their ciders are original creations, not copies; they express the specific character of Nagano's climate, soil, and apple varieties in the same way that their wines express the character of Nagano's grapes. And they seek to move beyond rigid categorizations — the binary opposition of "wine" versus "cider" — toward a more fluid understanding of fermented fruit beverages as a continuum of expression, all capable of complexity, depth, and authenticity when made with care and without compromise.

The technical approach to cider production mirrors the natural winemaking philosophy. Fermentation relies exclusively on wild yeast, with no additives, no sulfites, and no artificial manipulation. Because apples have lower sugar content and higher acidity than grapes, fermentation with wild yeast and secondary fermentation are more technically challenging — but the temperature-controlled cidery minimises bacterial contamination risk, allowing safe fermentation using only indigenous microorganisms. The Méthode Ancestrale is employed for sparkling ciders: bottling during the final stage of primary fermentation allows the process to finish naturally in the bottle, creating a gentle, persistent mousse and a complex, evolving flavour profile. Due to careful production and maturation, the cider does not need to be consumed immediately after opening; it evolves from day one to day two, and from day two to day three, revealing new layers of complexity with each passing day.

The three core ciders — Mizuiro (Light Blue), Ao (Blue), and Hakuro (White Dew) — are named for colours that came to illustrator Yunico Uchiyama's mind as he tasted the cider and created the label artwork. Each cider expresses a different facet of the Nagano apple: Mizuiro is delicate, floral, and ethereal; Ao is deeper, more structured, and more savoury; Hakuro is bright, crisp, and mineral. The labels — innocent, young, like a teenage girl — embody the Japanese concept of KAWAII, a aesthetic of charm and playfulness that is deliberately at odds with the stern, rustic visual language of much European natural wine. Tomoko and Takahiro hope that this approach will make their ciders accessible to a generation free from preconceived notions about what wine or cider should look like, cost, or taste like — a generation that will pick up a bottle because the label makes them smile, and discover inside a liquid of unexpected depth and seriousness.

To understand Les Vins Vivants, one must understand that it is not merely a winery or a cidery; it is a philosophical project, a generational wager, and a challenge to the categories that constrain how we think about fermented beverages. The name itself — Les Vins Vivants, "the living wines" — is a manifesto. It declares that wine and cider are not inert products to be stabilised, standardised, and shelved indefinitely; they are living organisms that evolve, that breathe, that change in the bottle and in the glass, that demand attentive drinking and reward patient cellaring. This is not a romantic affectation; it is a technical position with concrete implications. No sulfur means no preservation of a static state; wild yeast means vintage variation and bottle variation; Méthode Ancestrale means sediment, evolution, and the need to understand that a cider on day three may be more interesting than a cider on day one. The Oginos are asking their customers to become participants in the life of the wine, not merely consumers of a finished product.

The commitment to vegan production is equally principled. In conventional winemaking, fining agents derived from animal products — egg white, gelatin, isinglass — are used to clarify wine and remove bitter tannins. The Oginos reject these not because they are ineffective but because they are unnecessary, because clarity is not the only virtue, and because a wine that carries a tiny bit of haze or sediment is more honest than one that has been stripped of its living components for the sake of visual perfection. The vegan certification is not a marketing badge; it is a logical extension of the natural philosophy — if you will not add sulfur to preserve, why would you add animal products to clarify? The wine is what it is: grape, yeast, time, and place. Nothing more.

The generational dimension of Les Vins Vivants is perhaps its most distinctive feature. The KAWAII labels, the colour-named ciders, the playful aesthetic — these are not concessions to commercial pressure but deliberate strategies to reach a demographic that the natural wine world has largely failed to engage. Tomoko and Takahiro believe that the next generation — free from preconceived notions about wine versus cider, expensive versus cheap, serious versus frivolous — will be the ones who transform Japan's drinking culture. Their labels are designed to make a twenty-year-old pick up a bottle in a shop and feel that this is for them, not for their parents. The liquid inside is as complex and as rigorously made as any natural wine in France or Italy, but the packaging says: you are welcome here. This is democratic natural wine — not dumbed down, not simplified, but inviting.

The future of Les Vins Vivants is tied to the maturation of their three hectares of vines. As the Pinot Noir, Gamay, Chardonnay, and Chenin Blanc plantings move from adolescence to maturity, the estate will transition from a producer reliant on purchased fruit to a fully estate-grown operation. The Gamay, in particular, represents a long-term dream — Takahiro trained with the masters of Beaujolais, and the variety speaks to his deepest vinicultural convictions. But the scarcity of plant material in Japan means patience; thirty vines a year is not a pace for the impatient. This is farming on a generational timescale, a recognition that great vineyards are not made in a decade but in half a century. The apples, meanwhile, continue to develop — the new pesticide-free orchard planted in 2019 is maturing, the weak-tree philosophy is proving its worth, and the cider portfolio expands with each harvest.

In an age of industrial wine production, of homogenised flavours and marketing-driven branding, Les Vins Vivants stands as a radical alternative — a tiny estate in the mountains of Nagano, farmed by a couple who met in a Tokyo restaurant, trained in Yamanashi and France, and returned to Japan with a vision of living wines and living ciders made without sulfur, without additives, without animal products, and without compromise. Takahiro and Tomoko Ogino are not merely making beverages; they are making a culture, a community, a future — one wild yeast fermentation at a time, one foot crush at a time, one KAWAII label at a time. Their name — Les Vins Vivants — is not merely a brand; it is a promise that what is in the bottle is alive, and that those who drink it will become part of its life. This is not merely a winery or a cidery; it is a way of thinking, a philosophy of fermentation, and a gift to the next generation — offered with innocence, with charm, and with the quiet confidence of those who have learned that the best wines are the ones that enjoy being what they are.