In Italy, the concept of “natural wine” is not so much a radical new idea as it is a return to an ancient truth. In a country with over 500 documented native grape varieties, wine was always natural. The modern Italian natural wine movement is a powerful reclamation of this identity, a rejection of the industrialization that swept through the country in the latter half of the 20th century. It is a diverse and deeply soulful scene, where producers are using a low-intervention philosophy to unlock the incredible depth of Italy’s viticultural treasure chest.
The philosophical groundwork was laid in Friuli, on the border with Slovenia. Here, iconoclasts like Josko Gravner and Stanko Radikon ignited a revolution with their amber-hued, skin-contact white wines. A quieter but equally profound master of this style is Paolo Vodopivec. Working exclusively with the local Vitovska grape in the rocky Carso region, Vodopivec is an obsessive traditionalist. His wines are fermented and aged for years in large, buried clay amphorae. His “Solo” Vitovska is a benchmark: a wine of incredible texture and complexity, with notes of dried apricot, sage, and a distinct stony minerality that speaks directly of its limestone terroir.
While Friuli provided the intellectual spark, the movement’s vibrant, youthful energy is perhaps best exemplified in Sicily. Arianna Occhipinti has become a global icon for natural wine. Farming biodynamically in the Vittoria region of southeastern Sicily, she champions the local grapes Frappato and Nero d’Avola. Her “SP68 Rosso” is a gateway to her world: a blend of the two grapes, it is a joyous, energetic, and utterly delicious wine that bursts with fresh red berries, blood orange, and a dusty, earthy quality. It’s a wine that tastes of the sun, the soil, and the passionate spirit of its creator.
Another giant of the movement is Frank Cornelissen, a Belgian who settled on the northern slopes of Mount Etna. He farms ancient, high-altitude vineyards of Nerello Mascalese and other local varieties in the black, volcanic soil. His wines are radical expressions of terroir, often bottled with no added sulfur. His “Munjebel” Rosso is a cult classic: a wild, smoky, and ethereal wine that is less about fruit and more about the raw energy of the volcano. It is a profound, challenging, and unforgettable wine experience.
In the southern region of Campania, the Cantina Giardino collective represents another facet of the movement, one rooted in community and the preservation of ancient vines. Founded by Antonio and Daniela di Gruttola, the project saves old, often abandoned vineyards of local varieties like Fiano, Greco, and Aglianico from being ripped up. They are masters of long skin maceration for their white grapes, producing amber wines of incredible depth and complexity. Their “T’ara rà,” a skin-contact Greco aged in traditional chestnut and mulberry barrels, is a wine of intense aromatics—ginger, orange peel, smoke—and a powerful tannic structure that is a world away from the fresh, simple whites the region is often known for.
What connects a skin-contact Vitovska from Carso, a joyous Frappato from Sicily, and a volcanic Nerello Mascalese from Etna is a shared belief: that the greatest wines are not made, but grown. These producers see themselves as custodians of their land and their native grapes. They are not chasing trends; they are preserving a legacy. By farming organically, fermenting with wild yeasts, and bottling with little or no sulfur, they are creating wines that are transparent and deeply expressive of their unique Italian origins.
