10 years of Tayu: Inside Chile’s most unique grower–winery collaboration
At a London masterclass celebrating a decade of Tayu, winemaker Viviana Navarrete reflected on how a social and viticultural experiment in the Malleco Valley became a partnership built on trust, autonomy and shared learning.
A decade of Tayu: from ‘experiment’ to enduring partnership
Guests arriving at the Institute of Masters of Wine in Battersea were met with an invitation to “Celebrate 10 Years of Tayu: Wine, Culture & Collaboration” — a fitting introduction to a project that has always been about far more than Pinot Noir. Created in 2015, Tayu began as a bold model in which Mapuche families would farm their own land under long-term agreements, backed by technical support and financing from Viña San Pedro.
Yet as Navarrete made clear during the anniversary tasting, even the team behind it underestimated what the next decade would bring. “the integration of cultures has been bigger than we originally thought it would be at the beginning,” she said, describing a journey that required patience on both sides.
The early stages, she admitted, were marked by uncertainty. Borrowing a striking metaphor, she described the two groups — one corporate, one indigenous — as “like two animals that sniff”. Each feared being let down: “we were very afraid not to be left alone,” she said, while the Mapuche considered the winery’s intentions. The breakthrough, she suggested, came not from strategy but from time, consistency and shared work in the vineyards.
‘A project of people, not a brand’
Over the years, the partnership has evolved into something more profound than an agricultural arrangement. At the tasting, a question was raised about whether Tayu had ever faced criticism about the nature of the partnership, or, to put it bluntly, exploitation. Navarrete was unequivocal: “no. when its a marketing ploy, it doesn’t last long. This is a social mission that we have been committed to for over 10 years. Its a project of people, not a brand.”
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Part of that commitment, she explained, is financial stability for the families involved. “We guarantee a payment for kilograms in advance. So if there is a bad harvest and they have lower yields, it doesn’t matter. We’re going to pay for the kilograms that they get. So it’s a fair business for them.” Several families, she added, have now finished repaying the loans that funded their vine plantings: “three families ended now they don’t need to pay anything else, and now they can sell the grapes to whomever they want… they have learned a new business.”
The model’s uniqueness is something she often emphasises. “This model doesn’t sit anywhere else in Chile or anywhere else in the industry. It really is one of a kind,” she said. The project also demanded significant education: “these people had no knowledge of viticulture before,” she noted. Over time, the winery’s team taught pruning, planning, canopy management and vineyard structure — supported by monthly visits from a multicultural consultant, who the community now affectionately call “teacher”.
Ten years on, what has changed?
Navarrete spoke openly about the personal impact of the work. “being in this project… has made me be better person. I have learned a lot,” she said, adding that the agricultural manager responsible for thousands of hectares across the company considers Tayu the one project he “loves”.
Beyond the human story, the wines themselves have seen a decade of evolution. While vintages have varied, the cool southern climate and ancient red-clay soils of the Malleco Valley continue to shape a style of Pinot Noir defined by freshness, tension and clarity — qualities showcased across the vertical tasting.
But if Tayu began as an experiment in social sustainability and extreme-southern viticulture, Navarrete now sees it as something interwoven with identity. “it really is the people behind this project,” she said simply — a reminder that the wine’s name, meaning “ours” in Mapudungun, still carries its original intent.
As Tayu enters its second decade, the families who helped shape it now stand not as beneficiaries but as partners, growers and decision-makers. In a sector often searching for authentic stories, this quiet, stubborn, decade-long collaboration may prove one of the most compelling.
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