1		François Pinault Main Business:   Bonds, Banking...	Chateau Latour
2		Bernard Arnault Main Business:  LVMH Moët-Hennessy Louis Vuitton, Christian Lacroix Fashion, Guerlain, Dior *favourite Champagne is Pérignon - He loves it!.	FRANCE Moët & Chandon, Dom Pérignon, Pommery, Mercier, Ruinart, Veuve Clicquot Ponsardin, Canard-Ponsardin, INTERNATIONAL Domaine Chandon (Napa), Cape Mentelle (Autr), Cloudy Bay (N.Z.), Cognac: Hine, F.O.V., Hennessy
3		Edgar M. Bronfman Seagram's, Sandeman Ports, Martell Cognac, Tropicana Fruit Juice, Scotch Whiskies Chivas Regal, and Glenlivet...	Champagne: G.H. Mumm, Perrier-Jouët and Heidsieck Monopole. California: Monterey Vineyard, Mumm Napa, Sterling Vineyard Napa.
4		Serge and Laurent Dassault Dassault Aircraft (Mirage Jet Fighter...) (Wine is a hobby)	Chateau Dassault St. Emilion Grand Cru classé
5		Ernest Gallo	E. & J. Gallo Winery Sonoma
6		Corinne Mentzelopoulos Real Estate, Investment Firm...	Chateau Margaux
7		Baron Edmond de Rothschild Main Business: Banker	Chateau Lafite, Chateau Clarke, Peyre-Lebade, Malmaison, Les Granges. Chile Los Vascos...
8		Thomas Schmidheiny Holderbank Cement Company Real Estate (the richest person in Austria)	Cuvaison Winery (California)
10		Giovanni Agnelli Automaker Fiat	Part-owner of Chateau Margaux
11		Keizo Saji Suntory Yamanashi and Iwanohara wineries in Japan Cognac Louis Royer in Jarnac, France	Chateau Lagrange  40% of Château Beychevelle and other
12		Alain Wertheimer Chanel Inc.	Château Rausan-Ségla in Margaux
13		Owsley Brown II Jack Daniel's Whiskey	Fetzer Vineyards Mendocino County Jekel Vineyards Monterey County
14		Manuel Jorge Cutillas Barcardi, Martini & Rossi	Martini & Rossi Vermouths and Sparkling Wines.
15		Elías Masaveu and Cristina Masaveu 50 companies: cement, banking....	5% of La Rioja Alta Bodegas Murua
16		August Oetker Oetker group of food, shipping, chemicals and retailing companies	Rheingau: Schloss Johannisberg Von Mumm
17		Leo Kirch Media	Franz Kirch Weingut
18		Heidrun Leibbrand Luxury Hotels	Rheingau Schloss Reinhartshausen
19		Akihiko Otsuka pharmaceutical and health drinks	Ridge Vineyards (Santa Cruz Moutains, Cal)
		Anton Rupert Rembrandt Group (tobacco, petrolium, luxury goods...) Wine is a very minor holding.	Franschhoek valley, South Africa: L'Ormarins winery Fredricksburg vineyard

François Pinault

An exclusive interview with the man who bought Château Latour

For a man who was hospitalized for a serious illness less than a year ago, the boyish-looking François Pinault is the picture of health. Actually 58, he looks 10 years younger as he relaxes, tan and smiling, in his modern Paris office near the Eiffel Tower. But then, the self-made billionaire has many reasons to smile.

Two years ago, Pinault snatched up Château Latour from under the nose of a surprised Alain Wertheimer, Chanel Inc.'s chairman . At the last minute, Pinault upped Chanel's offer, which he had learned about a couple of days before. In typical Pinault fashion, he gave the seller, Allied-Lyons, 24 hours to respond to his "take it or leave it" $129 million offer for the Bordeaux first growth.

"We paid 10 million francs *$2 million* more than Chanel offered," he says. "They *Wertheimer and his brothers* didn't believe that we were serious. They had been negotiating for six months. They were very skeptical at the beginning that there could be a counteroffer. They thought it was a bluff when they were told there was another offer and they had to give an answer that night."

Pinault is considered one of the most aggressive businessmen in France and the press is fascinated by the innovative, complex and sometimes unorthodox deals he hatches. In recent years, he's multiplied his fortune with the astute use of junk bonds. After rela ting the story of how he outbid the Wertheimers, he worries the anecdote makes him look overly pushy.

"I didn't mean to imply that I bought Latour to spite Mr. Wertheimer," he cautions. "The Wertheimers are very charming people and I have no reason to feel any hostility. You should never do a deal against someone or something but for somebody or something. I bought Latour for my pleasure."

For the sake of secrecy, he said, he didn't fly to Latour to visit the Pauillac château during the negotiations. "Surprise is the art of war and always important, and that's also the case in business," he says. "It would have been a tactical mistake if I had gone, and I think I had to play on the effect of surprise and the speed of negotiations."

The tactics of war helped keep Pinault's eyes on the prize, though it was an expensive one. "Latour is like a great piece of art; it's without price," he says. "There is only one Château Latour in the world. And I'd rather fight in the course of everyday business to earn a few extra millions so I can overpay on something like Château Latour."

Pinault overpaid more than he thinks, according to Wertheimer, who says Pinault offered $20 million more than Chanel was willing to pay. "When we heard his offer," says Pinault's rival, "we knew we were not fighting in the same price category."

Only the seller, Allied-Lyons, and the New York investment banker that put the deal together really know how much more Pinault offered. But when Pinault made his offer known, the banker flew over the next day by Concorde to Paris and quickly wrapped up the deal.

Pinault relaxes in his office, dressed like a GQ cover model. He wears a handsome dark-blue suit, matching blue- and off-white-striped tie and a sky-blue shirt that echoes the color of his eyes. As he talks about Latour, Pinault is awaiting the outcome of a shareholders' meeting in another part of Paris. Today, he is the most talked-about businessman in Paris.

Pinault has made headlines for a solid week after a French daily leaked that Compagnie de Suez, a struggling conglomerate, was courting him for a possible merger. Suez, a company which has $19 billion in yearly sales but lost nearly $1 billion last year, is holding the rowdiest shareholders' meeting in its history.

Suez's CEO is taking a public lashing from shareholders for having held secret merger talks with Pinault. In French business circles, Pinault is known as a maverick who has risen outside the country's elitist channels. In the end, the company publicly rejects Pinault as a suitable partner, news that makes the front page the next day.

There's a reason Suez would want to link up with Pinault: His publicly listed retailing group, Pinault-Printemps-Redoute, posted sales of nearly $13 billion in 1994. But he has other interests as well, and his entire empire, he says, has 100,000 employees and a yearly turnover of $25 billion.

In person, Pinault is direct and candid, quick to smile and crack a joke. He emanates youthful energy and charm. And there is more than a hint in his eyes that this deal with Suez is just the sort of corporate controversy he lives for.

For instance, it took a protracted legal battle for Pinault and partners to secure their acquisition of a defunct California savings and loan, Executive Life Insurance Co. of Los Angeles, later renamed Aurora National Life Assurance Co. What interested Pinault was Executive's portfolio of so-called junk bonds. In this portfolio rested control of many American companies, some famous enough to be household names.

Pinault acquired a large chunk of Executive's portfolio from his American associate, financier Leon Black, who is a former executive at junk-bond specialist Drexel Burnham Lambert, and from Crédit Lyonnais, France's largest bank, whose board Pinault sits on. The bank and Black bought the bonds at an auction in 1991 that Forbes says "may well be the greatest financial coup of the decade."

The junk bonds purchased by Pinault allowed him to gain a major stake in such quintessential U.S. firms as luggage company Samsonite, mountain resorts Vail and Beaver Creek, shoe manufacturer Florsheim, Hispanic cable channel Tele-Mundo, Converse (producer of "Chuck Taylor" sneakers) and shirt-maker Salant (John Henry and Perry Ellis brands), among others.

Since Pinault picked up the bonds cheaply in a weak junk bond market, these assets have risen in value immensely as the market stabilized, adding greatly to Pinault's wealth. "I took risks in buying these bonds," Pinault insists. "It's extraordinary that there are people now saying I paid too little for them. True, they went up later, but I couldn't have known."

Don't get the idea that he never enjoys the fruit of all this labor. Pinault vacations at his summer house set in the vines above St.-Tropez, the celebrity town on the Côte d'Azur, where he likes to read, walk, bike, swim and boat with friends.

His second wife, Maryvonne, to whom he has been married for 30 years, loves gardening at their house 25 miles outside Paris, which also houses a large art collection that includes sculptures by the American artist Richard Serra.

During the week they live in an apartment in Paris. Pinault is also a grandfather; his oldest daughter, Laurence, 35, has two girls, aged 8 and 6. He has another daughter, Florence, 33, while his wife has a daughter, Dominique, 32, from a previous marriage. His son, François-Henri, 33, runs one of the Pinault subsidiaries.

Having a family life, however, doesn't mean that the stress of high finance doesn't get to Pinault, and that may have accounted for his serious heart problems last year. "I've taken risks in the past, things have gone fast and often the people who analyzed my company didn't know where I was heading," he says.

The magnitude of his deals has meant that everyone has tried to figure out just what direction that is. Not many companies grow so fast. In 1978, Pinault's company was worth $100 million, according to an adviser, Jean-Louis de Roux. When the company went public in 1988, its capitalization had increased 20 times, to $2 billion. Today, the company is valued at $20 billion.

Published reports have alleged that he was able to leverage himself because of special connections, especially with the state-owned Crédit Lyonnais. As much as he's an outsider to the traditional business community, he's well connected; among his friends is Jacques Chirac, France's new president.

Pinault also comes across as more Americanized than many French businessmen. Europeans are less ready to use junk bonds to buy companies. And while talking about one's fortune is a highly private matter, especially in France, Pinault doesn't hesitate to give his worth when asked if he is a billionaire.

"I sure hope so," he answers. "I don't count my money every morning, but I am worth between $2.5 and $3 billion."

As a self-made businessman who came from a modest home, his life's path is, in his own words, "more American than French." He was born in the northern French region of Brittany, where his parents raised cows and some crops on a 16-acre farm. At 16, young François had to quit school after his father asked him to come back to help on the farm.

He believes that the lack of formal schooling has helped him anticipate events. "Since I didn't pursue studies, a mold wasn't imposed on my brain," he says. "In any case, I reason a bit differently than others, and in some cases I see things before others do. I am more audacious and readier to make things move than people who grew up as part of the establishment."

Pinault started a lumber business shortly after his father's death in 1959. "I sold at night what I had bought in the morning," he says. He prospered in the 1970s when he used the same trading skills to buy up bankrupt companies and sell them for a profit later.

"I read every morning two hours," he says. "I sleep five hours, from midnight to 5 a.m. Then before going to work, I learn history and geography. I read novels. I catch up on what's happening in the world. I have done this for a long time because it was my way to educate myself." This is how he learned about the top-tier American artists whose works he collects, including Jackson Pollock and Robert Rauschenberg. And it's how he's teaching himself English.

Pinault learned little about wine as he grew up in northern France; the locals drank cider. "I started drinking wine when I was 20 or 22 years old," he says. "They were common table wines. But as soon as I could afford quality wines, I tried to understand why there were people who drank one sort rather than another."

The man who bought Latour has come a long way. "I was over 30 years old before I had more than a few cases of wine in my cellar. I am now 58 years old, and for the past 30 years I drink wine. I drink in the evening and sometimes over lunch. It's good for your health."

His cellar comprises mostly Bordeaux reds and Burgundy whites, especially Montrachet, he says. The Bordeaux are mostly from the best years and first growths, but also from many other classified estates. And he always likes Latour: "I have discovered that Latour produces, in what are said to be lesser vintages, wines of great quality. I have had very few disappointments with Latour. For instance, the '64 Latour is an extraordinary wine."

As often happens when a businessman buys into wine, skeptics wondered about his motives. Was it just a public relations move?

"People who start without money like me, the moment they buy a great house, others say he wants to become an aristocrat," says Pinault. "Others don't tolerate that someone who doesn't come from an old family can, at one time or another, want to construct what will be his family patrimony, something that will be his pleasure. And why not?

"I hope I am not so stupid as to buy Latour just to have a sort of title," he adds. "Latour wasn't bought so I could enter a chic club. The acquisition of Latour reflects first and foremost my passion for wine, which I have tried to understand, study, taste and appreciate for years."

He adds: "For me there was an emotional, almost sensual rapport with this domaine and the wine it produces that led me to say, Château Latour is on the market, we must get it."

The entrepreneur admits he is not at Latour often enough, but he trusts that the men at Latour in charge of vinification (Christian le Sommer) and the business itself (Frédéric Engerer) will follow his instructions. And what are they?

"Regardless of the years, we must produce great quality," says Pinault. "I have fixed as our objective to neglect nothing and to make every sacrifice necessary for the improvement of the quality of Latour. This can be done to the detriment of bottom line. When you have the honor to own Latour, it's your responsibility to do everything in your power to improve quality as high as humanly possible, even if it hurts the profits. The size of my company allows me to do this. I and my family don't need the income from Latour to live on."

--P.-H.M.

Bernard Arnault

The crown prince of Dom Pérignon has parlayed his sense of style--and head for business--into the world's biggest luxury goods company

He's been called the "little prince of finance." But there is nothing diminutive about Bernard Arnault, from the size of his company and personal wealth to his reputation as one of the most successful French entrepreneurs of his generation.

Arnault, the 46-year-old CEO and chairman of the world's No. 1 luxury goods company, LVMH Moët-Hennessy Louis Vuitton, earned his position in several tough corporate battles. None was more bitter than when he wrestled control of LVMH in the late 1980s from Henry Racamier, head of Louis Vuitton.

LVMH was created when Louis Vuitton merged with Moët-Hennessy in 1987. Shortly thereafter, Arnault and partners, including British drinks company Guinness, acquired a sizable minority stake in LVMH.

Married to a Vuitton heiress, Racamier tried to extricate Louis Vuitton from the group's drinks and spirits activities. Arnault moved swiftly to stop Racamier from breaking up the group.

The fight was brutal, but Arnault won. Analysts on the sidelines, though, had serious reservations about his logic of keeping Moët & Chandon Champagne and Hennessy Cognac in the same corporation with Louis Vuitton luggage, Christian Dior fashion and Givenchy perfumes.

"Once the marriage between the wine and spirits part had been consummated with the luxury goods part, it was a fantastic company from a shareholder's point of view," says Arnault. "This is why I fought."

Having saved the fragmented luxury empire from breakup, he is now reaping the benefits, as are the shareholders. And Arnault and family have become multibillionaires in the process.

The group's revenues have doubled since 1989, despite a recession that weakened the luxury business. Last year, LVMH grew 17 percent and posted sales of $5.6 billion. It's the most profitable company in France, and investors are flocking to the stock.

Arnault and family own 18 percent of LVMH's stock, a stake worth $3 billion. And with the combined interest of his partners, Arnault controls 40 percent of the stock, enough to control the company.

Entering the billionaire's office is like stepping into a temple. It's quiet and soothing, decorated in gray tones, from the carpets and furniture to the walls and modern paintings. The Arc de Triomphe is a block away, but not a sound from the hustle and bustle of the Parisian avenues seven floors below filters into the office.

Arnault is tall and slim, with graying, curly hair and rimless glasses. He extends a courteous smile and handshake to a visitor. Handsomely tailored, he wears a gray double-breasted suit with a colorful tie. Both are from Dior, a fashion house whose acquisition in 1984 launched his career in the luxury goods business.

But despite these outward signs of confidence, Arnault is genuinely shy and makes no attempt at small talk; he lets his annual reports do most of the talking for him.

Those reports show that managing contradictions has been Arnault's strong suit. Moët & Chandon's famed Dom Pérignon Champagne fits this scenario. It enjoys great prestige and costs $90 a bottle in U.S. retail stores, yet it's made in large quantities. How large? Arnault refuses to say, but Champagne insiders estimate more than 200,000 cases per year.

The concept of rarity is important to luxury products' snob appeal, yet many of LVMH's brands are manufactured on an industrial scale. It's a dichotomy that mirrors two parts of Arnault's personality, the artist and the manager.

He showed artistic flair when he launched the Christian Lacroix fashion house in 1987 and again last year when he acquired Guerlain, considered the most fashionable perfume house in the world.

Yet Arnault's training makes him keep a steady eye on the bottom line. He graduated at age 21 from France's most elite university, the Ecole Polytechnique, which he calls "very structured and army-like." Four years later, he took over managing his family's construction business in northern France and its 1,000 employees.

"I always knew I wanted to be an industrialist," he says. "But I've always been interested in luxury. And I think that's an important quality in this job. It's not good enough to be good only in the organizational and commercial part. It's important to feel whether something is intrinsically beautiful. You need both."

On Saturdays, he goes down to the Dior fashion house, where he enjoys talking with the models and designers and checking on the latest creations. "I go there and give my opinions," he says. "And when I travel to the Far East, I go to the bars at night to see how our Champagnes and Cognacs are selling. I love it."

A few years ago, he added Pommery and its 1,300-acre vineyards to the group's other Champagne houses: Mercier, Ruinart, Veuve Clicquot Ponsardin, Canard-Ponsardin and Moët & Chandon, the world's largest Champagne brand, with sales of 1.75 million cases last year. LVMH's total Champagne sales reached nearly 4 million cases in 1994, gaining $1.1 billion.

The group's wine and spirits brands belong to subsidiary Moët & Hennessy, of which 34 percent is owned by Guinness. The group also owns Domaine Chandon in Napa Valley, Cape Mentelle in Australia and Cloudy Bay in New Zealand, and the three Cognac brands Hine, F.O.V. and Hennessy.

Not surprisingly, Dom Pérignon ranks as Arnault's favorite Champagne, especially the rosé, but he also stocks Bordeaux in the cellar of his homes in Paris and the south of France.

Arnault has four children, two from his first marriage and two with his wife, Hélène, a professional pianist.

In addition to playing the piano himself, Arnault enjoys tennis, and recently played against Björn Borg in a demonstration tournament. "It was very amusing. He is very kind. At one point I returned his serve and he was unable to *get* the ball," he says in a rare humorous moment.

In the world of luxury goods, though, few can play in Arnault's league, and Champagne is the product that tops off the aura of the billionaire and his company. "I'm convinced that in a century," he says, "people will still drink Dom Pérignon."

--P.-H.M.

Edgar M. Bronfman

Seagram's chairman has watched his company catapult to a new level this year with a Hollywood acquisition, but his heart has stayed true to the wine and spirits that built the business

When Seagram's Edgar M. Bronfman turned 60, his seven children threw him a birthday bash. They asked three-star chef Paul Bocuse to cook the meal at Bronfman's New York apartment overlooking Central Park and matched it with wine from each of their birth years: '53 Margaux, '55 Mouton-Rothschild, '56 Montrose, '59 Lafite Rothschild, '63 Sandeman Port, '76 Yquem, '79 Haut-Brion. "It was great fun," says Bronfman, who is reportedly the 17th-richest American.

"We all have cellars," adds Bronfman's eldest son, Sam, 42, who heads The Seagram Classics Wine Co., a California-based subsidiary. "Some of the wines came from my cellar, some from my brother Edgar's. He really likes old Bordeaux, as does my father. We had a good time picking out the stuff."

Money is one thing, but having virtually unlimited access to the world's finest wines is another. Bronfman, now 66, has both, and few people drink better than he does. His Virginia home has a cellar full of bottles from 40 years of collecting, weighted heavily toward Bordeaux. "I take wine very seriously," he says. "I love drinking wine with every meal."

On the corporate Gulf Stream 4 jet, Bronfman instituted a new policy of serving mostly aged California reds-- also featured at his Sun Valley home--particularly from Seagram's own Sterling Vineyards. "I want people to see what California wines taste like when they are at their peak," says Bronfman. The jet is outfitted with a kitchen and a flight attendant, and can comfortably serve dinner for eight. "We're a high-class operation, and we want only the best in food and wine," he adds.

As Seagram's CEO for 25 years and now its chairman, Bronfman has managed one of the world's most dynamic wine and spirits companies. It distributes 210 brands of still, sparkling and fortified wines, and every year sells millions of cases of wine in the United States and abroad.

Seagram-owned G.H. Mumm, Perrier-Jouët and Heidsieck Monopole account for a quarter of all Champagnes sold in America. Its Sandeman Ports account for 25 percent of the U.S. Port market. Its Martell Cognac, acquired in a prolonged bidding war in 1988, is a leader in its category. Seagram also owns Tropicana fruit juices and the upscale Scotch whiskies Chivas Regal and Glenlivet.

Two companies comprise the wine side of the business. The Seagram Classics Wine Co. owns Monterey Vineyard, Mumm Napa Valley and the flagship Napa winery, Sterling Vineyards, which sold 300,000 cases last year. And Seagram Château & Estate Wines Co., headed by Abdallah Simon, ships about one-third of all Bordeaux classified growths imported to the United States.

Needless to say, the chairman can pick from an endless supply of wine at the Seagram headquarters in New York. "I like to drink what Ab Simon and Sam are selling at the moment," he says, shortly after coming back from a biking trip in France. "I save the first growths for weekends and when I'm at my home in Virginia."

Over the years, he has biked through the vineyards of Burgundy and Bordeaux, once stopping for an informal tasting at Château Pétrus. "Christian Moueix *whose family owns Pétrus* is a pretty sporty guy himself and he biked with us," Bronfman recalls. As for Burgundy, "it was pretty hilly but unbelievably beautiful."

When not out traveling, Bronfman doesn't frequent restaurants. "I have my own dining room here at the office which I love," he says. "Every day of my life I've had a working lunch. I love to do business at lunch, over a good meal and a good glass of wine."

Luncheon guests might include his son Edgar Jr., who took over from his father as Seagram's CEO last year. The younger Bronfman, 40, was the strategist behind the family-controlled company's foray into Hollywood. Earlier this year, Seagram paid $5.7 billion in cash and notes for 80 percent of MCA Inc., the entertainment conglomerate.

The MCA acquisition takes Seagram to new heights, almost doubling its gross revenues, from $6.3 billion last year to more than $11 billion. Buying a majority of MCA means that wine and spirits go from generating 90 percent of the company's revenues to 45 percent (40 percent for spirits, 5 percent for wine), according to Bronfman. The Bronfman family's share of the publicly listed Seagram Co. Ltd. is 36.41 percent and Forbes estimates Edgar Sr.'s worth at about $2.5 billion.

The MCA deal continues a tradition of high-stakes deal-making by three generations of Bronfmans. In 1963 Seagram's founder, Samuel Bronfman, acquired what became Texas Pacific Oil Co. for $65 million. His son, Edgar Sr., sold its U.S. properties in 1980 for $2.3 billion and used the money to acquire 20.2 percent of Du Pont in 1981.

This year Edgar Jr. made his move for MCA after Du Pont redeemed 156 million of its shares owned by Seagram, which still has a $1.2-billion stake in the chemical giant.

Asked about his greatest achievement, Edgar Bronfman Sr. replies without hesitation: "The sale of the oil company, the move into Du Pont and the sale of Du Pont. Turning a $65 million investment into $10 billion in my lifetime."

Although Du Pont is a safe investment, he says, "You can't ask a 40-year-old *Edgar Jr.* to expect to have two-thirds of the company's assets tied up in Du Pont and be untouchable. Who would want such a job?"

But isn't MCA a risky investment? "I don't think it's that much risk," says Bronfman. "And whatever risk there is, is bearable."

The experienced executive did not approve a snap decision. "We had discussed MCA over two years and thought, 'What a great industry this is,'" says Bronfman. "When word came that they wanted to sell, Edgar did a brilliant job negotiating. We bought a great asset at a discount, and that is the trick. And remember MCA is not just a movie maker, it's theme parks and terrific music and publishing divisions."

With his interests in biking, wines and philanthropy--he is president of the World Jewish Congress--Bronfman says he's happy to have left the day-to-day business to Edgar Jr.

"Before MCA we had the sense of smell and taste. Now we offer sound and vision," he says. With films such as "Schindler's List" in the company fold, Bronfman's company now trades in the ultimate sensation: "The emotion you get when a picture hits you in the stomach."

--P.-H.M.

Serge and Laurent Dassault

The venerable French aircraft dynasty is flying high with its successful Bordeaux holdings

For the past 50 years, the Dassault aircraft dynasty has built airplanes at the rate of 130 a year, or 2.5 a week. That adds up to 6,500 airplanes, among them the very symbol of France's military prowess: the Mirage jet fighter. And aircraft manufacturing makes up only half of the Dassault industrial empire's yearly sales of $17 billion.

Dassault also produces the prestigious Falcon, which is the civilian aircraft of choice for the busy CEO or diplomat. Yet the Dassault CEO's son, Laurent Dassault , who seems to fit the profile of the busy executive, flies commercial.

"When I fly with my father *Serge* we travel in his Falcon 900. But when I fly alone, I go commercial," says the younger Dassault, 42, as he stands in the vineyards of Château Dassault, the family's estate in the Bordeaux district of St.-Emilion, smoking a Partagas Series D. With the cigar, his head full of curly hair, his set of bushy, dark eyebrows, and his open grin, you could swear Groucho Marx is haunting the grounds of the Dassault estate.

As co-director of the 10,000-case St.-Emilion grand cru classé, Dassault flies down from Paris every other month to visit with the winemaker, André Brun, a retired French jet pilot. "It'd be over the top to go in my own aircraft," he says. "That's not how we like to use our resources in this company. Frankly, we had a rather normal upbringing thanks to my mother."

Having said that, the family is at the vortex of the nation's military-industrial complex. They own 49.9 percent of the publicly listed Dassault Aviations, 60 percent of Dassault Electronique, 4 percent of the chemical giant Poulenc and 5 percent of the movie studio Gaumont, along with other stakes. Their publicly listed wealth alone amounts to $1.5 billion, says Dassault, and that's not counting privately held interests, for which he declines to give an estimate.

"The Americans are our only competition," he adds, noting that Dassault Industries controls 12 percent of the world market for military airplanes.

The Dassault headquarters in Paris is a palace worthy of such an empire, a stately Napoleon III, 19th century landmark that takes up almost half a block along the Champs-Elysées. In front of the building there is a square named after Marcel Dassault, the company's legendary founder. Once you gain entrance through an ornate, cast-iron gate manned by guards, you find yourself in a manicured, tree-shaded courtyard with a lush, green lawn framed by beds of bright flowers.

This is the seat of power for 70-year-old Serge Dassault. Like a head of state, the elder Dassault arrives in a three-car motorcade, seated (in shirtsleeves) in his chauffeured black Renault. It stops in front of an imposing limestone staircase leading up to his offices, the empire's command center.

As the aircraft tycoon emerges from the vehicle, employees scurry around. Someone helps him slip into his blue suit jacket. Laurent hurries to greet his father, gives him a big kiss on his bald forehead, then nudges him by the elbow toward a reporter. "It's to promote the château," he whispers to his dad.

Serge Dassault has just returned from his new fiefdom, the city hall of Corbeil-Essonnes, a longtime Communist stronghold. Dassault decided years ago to challenge the leftist government; after losing three elections for mayor he finally won this year.

The elder Dassault's enthusiasm for his new role as mayor leaves little doubt that he finds it more exciting to talk about politics. "Running a city is fun. It's varied, it's lively, it's crazy. You deal with young people, old people, issues like housing, police, education. Everyone is fighting everyone else. It's a lot of fun," says Dassault with a loud, warm laugh.

He quickly gets bored with questions about Château Dassault. "The winery is such a small business in terms of revenues for our company," says the elder Dassault with a shrug that only underscores the point: Château Dassault is just a drop in the bucket for this conglomerate.

"My father," Laurent interjects, almost apologetically, "is not really a man of the land."

It was the patriarch, Marcel, Serge's father, who got the family into the wine business. One of his factories was in Bordeaux, close to the airport Merignac, where all Dassault airplanes are flight-tested before they are delivered to their customers. In 1955 Marcel bought the St.-Emilion estate Château Couperie as a country home to spend his weekends and receive clients. He renamed it Dassault.

Laurent says his grandfather enjoyed serving his own wine. To this day Château Dassault is served at many corporate functions and at airplane shows.

Under the Dassaults, the estate was upgraded in 1969 from a simple grand cru to a grand cru classé. It was one of the first in the area to be equipped with computerized, temperature-controlled, stainless-steel vats. The château, surrounded by 67 acres of vines, makes a little less than 7,000 cases of the grand vin, plus 4,000 cases of a second label, Château Mérissac. The vineyards are 65 percent Merlot, 5 percent Cabernet Sauvignon and 30 percent Cabernet Franc.

Wine Spectator has rated the wines good to outstanding, with the '82 receiving an outstanding 90 on the 100-point scale. A bottle of Château Dassault retails for around $20 in the United States; only a fraction of the estate's production is exported to America.

"This estate is the most beautiful of all my activities," says the younger Dassault. But a little silver airplane pin on the lapel of his blue blazer--not to mention a Dassault Aviations corporate tie emblazoned with little clouds, birds and airplanes--is a reminder of why the family is flying so high.

--P.-H.M.

Ernest Gallo

Owning the biggest winemaking operation in the world wasn't enough for the hard-driving octogenarian

If there is a man who doesn't need an introduction, it's Ernest Gallo. In the world of wine, he is nothing less than a titan. The E. & J. Gallo Winery, founded 62 years ago in California by Ernest and his late brother, Julio, dominates its market the way few companies do.

Impact newsletter estimates the winery produces about 70 million cases a year of wine and wine-related products, and one out of four bottles of wine sold in the United States. It is believed the winery has combined sales of around $1 billion a year, making it one of the largest privately owned companies in the nation.

Behind the Gallos' phenomenal success is Ernest's tireless and single-minded determination to conquer his industry. Even at the age of 86, he remains energetic and sharp; he seems handicapped only by the poor hearing that forces him to wear hearing devices. He enjoys wine, especially from his own winery, and drinks a couple of glasses at lunch and the same amount at dinner.

Ernest, the company's chairman, has been the driving force behind the winery's sales and marketing. By his own account, he used to personally visit 1,000 stores a year--unannounced--to make sure that his wines were displayed and sold properly.

Julio, who handled winemaking and other production duties, was 83 years old when he was killed in a jeep accident two years ago.

As they explain in their autobiography, Ernest and Julio: Our Story, they started their own business after their parents were found dead at their Fresno home on June 21, 1933. Police surmised it was a murder-suicide.

Two months later--with Prohibition still on--the Gallo brothers' winery in Modesto, Calif., was bonded. The federal government issued them a permit to operate a 50,000-gallon winery and in a few short months they had stockpiled an impressive inventory of wine that they sold quickly once Prohibition ended in late 1933.

They were struck by other tragedies, also mentioned in their book: the suicide of one of Julio's sons: the dissolution of their relationship with their younger brother, Joseph Gallo Jr.; and their 1986 filing of a lawsuit against Joseph in a trademark infringement case. Ernest and Julio persuaded the court to stop their brother from selling cheese with labels bearing his own name on it.

Through the years, the Gallos have brought wine to the masses, playing a key role in transforming the United States from a nation that consumed mostly sweet wine into one of the largest table-wine-drinking countries in the world.

From the start the brothers were in sync with Americans, selling sweet dessert wines, inexpensive generics such as the popular Gallo Hearty Burgundy, and Thunderbird, a lemon- flavored white Port. Their use of screw tops helped popularize their bottlings as consumer-friendly beverages.

Sales increased and their market share expanded in the 1940s, 1950s and 1960s. By the time Gallo introduced its first varietal wine in 1974 the winery had emerged as the dominant force in American wine.

A very private clan, the Gallo family closely guards information about its wealth. Forbes magazine's estimate for Ernest Gallo's net worth in 1994 was $325 million.

But Wine Spectator estimates the Gallo family's total worth at more than $1 billion. This figure includes the winery (which has been estimated at $600 million), the ownership of thousands of acres of land in California, the vertically integrated wine production and distribution systems, from trucking lines to aluminum cap and glass manufacturers, and other investments.

Today, the story of that empire is its dramatic shift into fine varietal wines. Indeed, at an age when most people are well into retirement, Ernest is pushing his company to make world-class wines from the 2,000-acre estate in Sonoma County, possession of which makes him that county's largest vineyard landowner.

In 1993 the estate released its first wines, and both were outstanding and pricey. They were E. & J. Gallo's Cabernet Sauvignon Northern Sonoma Estate 1990 (rated 93, $60, 2,016 cases made) and Chardonnay Northern Sonoma Estate 1991 (92, $30, 3,520 cases). The subsequent releases, the '91 Cabernet and '92 Chardonnay, were also rated outstanding; the '93 Chardonnay rated very good (88).

The Sonoma County winery project's costs are estimated to run into millions considering the work involved: reshaping hills into vineyards, planting vines, holding crop loads at 2 tons per acre and buying new French oak barrels at $550 each.

But cost is not the issue. Changing the Gallo image is. "These wines should dispel the idea that fine wines can't be made by companies that put out volume," said Julio in his last interview before his fatal car accident, only months before the rollout of the new wines.

"We've had a lot of fun trying to produce wines that the American public would enjoy," Ernest told Wine Spectator two years ago. "Having partially accomplished that and also having gotten to the point where we sell a significant portion of all the wine sold in this country, we thought this would be a great time to see if we can't make the best wine that's made in this country. So it's largely a matter of personal satisfaction that we went into this area. Certainly it's not for the profit."

--P.-H.M. and James Laube

Corinne Mentzelopoulos

Combining shrewd business sense and a love of wine, Château Margaux's managing partner has taken the world by storm

When Italian ski star Alberto "La Bomba" Tomba came to Château Margaux recently, Corinne Mentzelopoulos indulged his love of fine wine. First she opened the '79, then the '66, the birth year of the Olympic slalom champion. Finally, she poured the legendary '59.

"He said how Margaux was so much better than any other first growth, then pleaded for some more '59," says Mentzelopoulos. "And I said, 'Listen, I'll only open another bottle if you give me your World Cup when you win it again next time.' And he said, 'It's a deal.' "

The story is vintage Mentzelopoulos. She is witty, unpretentious and quick on her feet. In the past 15 years she's infused Margaux--and to some extent the larger realm of Bordeaux--with a new, youthful spirit.

She was only 27 years old when her father died in 1980. André, a self-made Greek businessman, left his daughter and his widow, Laura, to run Margaux and take over a 1,800-shop convenience store chain in Paris.

Nowadays, the entrepreneur--winner, with Baroness Philippine de Rothschild, of the 1995 Wine Spectator Distinguished Service Award--juggles her time between family, Château Margaux and her widespread business holdings. Although she is worth more than $1 billion, she is in her office from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m. five days a week, except when she is in Bordeaux overseeing Margaux.

The billionaire drives a Volkswagen home in the evenings to care for her son, Alexis, 2, and help her two daughters, Nathalie, 13, and Alexandra, 10, with their homework.

"I wish for my children to live a normal life," she says. "People who live with helicopters and so on, it's not my cup of tea. One of my daughters goes to a state-run school. There are no limousines and they have hardly any pocket money--and they only get any when they have good marks in school. And they'll get no car at 18 if I think they are wasting their time."

Mentzelopoulos accepts few social engagements because she considers her time too precious. "I'm not a socialite," she says. Weekends are spent with the children and her second husband, Hubert Leven, in her country house outside Paris.

Family folklore has it that Mentzelopoulos used to hang on almost every word her father spoke on business topics at home, and his knack of expanding the family fortune must have rubbed off. André's retail business went from 80 shops to 1,800 between 1958 and 1980. He paid $14.4 million for Margaux, and it is probably worth 10 times more today. The Mentzelopouloses have made major investments at the 650-acre estate, of which 190 acres are planted to vineyards. In the '80s, Margaux rose to the top of the first growths.

During that decade, however, Mentzelopoulos did more than just improve the quality of the wines at Margaux. In a few savvy moves, she multiplied her family's assets, becoming a billionaire in the process.

First, she helped divest her family from Félix-Potin, the convenience store chain, just as this type of business was reaching a plateau in the early 1980s. She invested the capital from that sale into Source Perrier, just as its mineral water was becoming the must-drink of the '80s.

Eventually, she became Perrier's largest shareholder, with a 33 percent controlling interest held through Exor, a publicly listed company Corinne and her mother controlled with a stake exceeding 50 percent of the stock.

But, "Perrier was becoming too much of a headache for a family," she says. "Because when we speak about the family, it's only me and my mother. And my mother is happy in Gstaad, and less and less involved. I had this personal responsibility toward thousands of employees. It wasn't reasonable. Perrier was too risky."

So she looked around for a way to invest and protect the family fortune. Enter Giovanni Agnelli , the now 74-year-old industry magnate, and his family, in 1991. "They sought high-quality real estate, high-quality wine and a company. It was a perfect diversification for them," she says.

The rest is business history: when Nestlé got wind of the alliance between Perrier, Mentzelopoulos and Agnelli, the Swiss conglomerate tendered an unfriendly offer for the stock. Nestlé was interested in adding to its already substantial mineral water companies by getting Perrier. A protracted bidding war erupted that pushed the Perrier share up to $340, at which point the Agnellis and the Mentzelopouloses shrewdly sold, making a huge profit.

Mentzelopoulos converted much of her proceeds from that sale, as well as her sale of the other Exor assets, into an undisclosed stake of the Agnelli family's Luxembourg-based, publicly listed holding company, IFINT, now renamed Exor Group. Exor Group reported assets of $1.9 billion in 1994 and revenues of $180 million in 1994.

Mentzelopoulos also runs her own holding company that serves as a vehicle for her private investments, some of which are in America. She receives many inquiries about investing in wine. "But I've refused to do so for the time being. I'll only do it if it would bring something to Margaux, and improve its image."

She is also managing partner of Margaux and owns outright 25 percent of the estate plus her share of Exor's 75- percent interest in Margaux. The winery is a small business in the context of her financial interests--in 1994, Château Margaux reported pretax profits of $3.7 million based on revenues of $15.2 million--but it's where her heart is.

"I feel like this estate has called upon me to work for it," says Mentzelopoulos. "It is such a grand wine, grand terroir, it has such a long span of history, I just feel committed to it. It inspires. I am hooked, I guess. It's rewarding. Makes you want to go further and further. And that's fun."

--P.-H.M.

France

Baron Edmond de Rothschild

The richest member of wine's most prominent family spends his money on philanthropy-- and bolstering a vineyard once considered a poor relation

In the fall, Baron Edmond de Rothschild enjoys sharing lunch with the grape pickers at his Château Clarke. It has become a yearly affair, one of Europe's richest men partaking in the traditional harvest meals.

Rothschild flies down to Bordeaux in a chartered jet from one of his homes in Geneva or Paris, and if harvest is under way he likes to join the pickers daily in a country lunch that might include rabbit pâté and roasted chicken. The meal is washed down with copious amounts of wine--Clarke for Rothschild and those at his table, and the second wine, Les Granges, for everyone else.

As befits a member of this unique family, he acquired a taste for fine wine as a child. "My grandfather bought Lafite in 1868 and I was raised drinking Lafite," says Rothschild, 69. "It was our table wine."

He strikes quite a figure in his vintner-style checked jacket. He is tall, blue-eyed, with curly hair. Handsome and at ease with himself, Rothschild inspires confidence, as you might expect from one of Europe's leading bankers.

But he wheezes and coughs occasionally during a one-hour interview in Château Clarke's wood- and leather-lined library, which is filled with antique screw pulls, decanters and other wine-related memorabilia. He has severe lung damage from too much smoking, and he almost died last year when he was hospitalized for blocked arteries.

That experience gave him a sense of renewal. "Life is often very discouraging," he says. "But when you have swung between life and death, one is very happy to be alive and you work with twice as much optimism."

His daily work, however, requires him to focus on the three banks he controls. His crown jewel is his publicly listed Geneva-based Banque Privée, which specializes in asset management and had an estimated $17 billion under management last year. Paris-based Cie. Financière Edmond de Rothschild is privately held but has estimated assets of several billion dollars. The third bank is the publicly listed Israel General Bank in Tel Aviv.

Financial matters take up half of his time, while his activities in wine and philanthropy account for the other half. Deeply involved in Jewish causes, the baron funds the work of the Edmond de Rothschild Caesarea Foundation in Israel and the Edmond de Rothschild Foundation in New York.

Rothschild growls when asked about his fortune, quickly putting a stop to this line of questioning. He's been ranked as the fifth richest man in France, although associates now believe he may have inched up to third place. L'Expansion, a French business magazine, estimated his wealth at $1.1 billion in 1992. It's safe to say his wealth has increased since then, and Wine Spectator estimates his net worth at more than $1.5 billion.

All that money gives him the luxury of having homes all over the world. Rothschild has an enormous lakefront château in Geneva furnished with antiques and priceless paintings by Rembrandt and other artists. His pied-à-terre in Paris is what the French call an hôtel particulier ("private hotel"). It is nicely endowed with a swimming pool and a garden, and it faces the presidential Elysée Palace. He also has a home in the Caribbean, where he sails his yacht.

He practically owns Mount d'Arbois, a mountain above the renowned Alpine ski resort of Megève where his holdings include a Relais & Château hotel, ski lifts and real estate. And he has large, inherited land holdings in the old town of Caesarea in Israel, which he has partially rebuilt.

Despite all that mobility, the baron has struggled to turn around Clarke, the near-derelict château he bought in 1973.

As the wealthiest of the Rothschilds, he could have acquired a classified growth. He investigated the possibility when some estates came up for sale, but finally decided against it.

"He could have bought Margaux or Beychevelle, but he bought a cru bourgeois so he wouldn't compete with his cousins at Lafite and Mouton," says an adviser, Nicolas de Rabaudy. "He has a deep sense of family values." Rothschild and his wife, Nadine, have one son, Benjamin, 32, who works in finance in Geneva.

Skeptics in Bordeaux said Clarke couldn't produce fine wines. At the time the baron bought it, only a few hectares were planted; the rest were overgrown fields. It didn't help that the château is located in an obscure appellation, Listrac, known for its clay soil and rustic wines.

Rothschild wasn't discouraged, though the task took longer than he thought. Instead, he poured $30 million into an overhaul of Clarke and his two other Bordeaux estates, according to Jean-Claude Boniface, Château Clarke's director. Even so, Clarke has rarely made a profit. "While Lafite is a wine that one buys, Clarke is a wine that one sells," sighs Rothschild, who owns 1/6 of Lafite.

The other two estates he owns are adjacent to Clarke. Clarke (16,000 cases a year) and Peyre-Lebade (25,000 cases) each occupy 135 acres of vineyards in Listrac while Malmaison (12,000 cases) has about 60 acres in Moulis. Rothschild also makes a white and a rosé besides the second wine, Les Granges. A small amount of Clarke's wine is kosher, harvested and vinified by rabbis. (The baron has nothing to do with an Israeli brand named after him.)

"I want to make something clear: the soil here is not gravelly and therefore I never set out to attempt to imitate Lafite," says Rothschild. "Clarke is a different wine. I always knew this. It was really an experiment with the sort of soils that are rather rare in the Médoc. It was hard work and it was a big gamble but, thank God, we have won. Clarke is now beginning to get a good reputation, but it's taken us more than 20 years."

He likes to tell an ironic story about visiting Napa Valley in the late 1960s. "I had found this magnificent estate, and I proposed to my cousin Elie *then managing partner at Lafite* that we buy it," he says. "It was Beaulieu, and it was for sale for $1 million. But the family wasn't interested in going to California at the time."

The enthusiasm and innovation he witnessed in California inspired his interest in Bordeaux, as did his cousin Philippe, who worked for years to get Mouton-Rothschild elevated to first-growth status.

The banker and baron who seems to have everything says that, in truth, he liked the idea of a challenge: "I find it deeply satisfying to create something from nothing."

--P.-H.M.

Thomas Schmidheiny

The down-to-earth Swiss billionaire owns California's Cuvaison Winery and vineyards across Europe

Thomas Schmidheiny, one of Switzerland's richest citizens, is just back from Italy, where his core business, cement, is slow because public works have come to a virtual standstill.

Should he downsize the Italian operation? Should he wait out the crisis? He's thinking the issue over as he drinks a fresh, fruity Swiss Chardonnay over lunch near his lakefront headquarters outside Zürich.

Wine plays a big part in his life, both personally and professionally. Aside from his ownership of Cuvaison Winery in Napa Valley and several vineyards planted in the lime soils of stone quarries he owns in Italy, Germany and Switzerland, Schmidheiny knows the value of a glass or two of wine. It certainly came in handy when discussions turned to "restructuring" his Italian operation, a euphemism for firing employees.

"Two days ago at our plant in Italy, we had to make some very top decisions, but with a glass of wine you can really take out the tensions," recalls Schmidheiny of a discussion with his plant managers. "We drank the Chardonnay and barrique-aged Barbera we produce in the vineyards next to our quarry," which is located in Moleto, between Milan and Turin, in the Piedmont area. "And it became a very pleasant part of the day because some dialogue that had been very tough settled down and was discussed openly afterwards." Schmidheiny was still undecided in mid-October whether to order big layoffs in Italy.

You might think that laying off people is all in a day's work for an industrialist of Schmidheiny's stature. He is CEO and chairman of Holderbank, the world's largest cement company. A corporation with 37,000 employees in 30 countries and yearly revenues of about $7.5 billion, it's the concrete supplier of such major public works as the new Denver Airport and the Beirut Airport. He operates 13 plants in the United States, from Seattle to South Carolina.

But faced with a situation at his Lebanese plant similar to that in Italy, he resisted cutting back his operation during years of wars and terrorism. He even traveled to Lebanon twice a year, entering any way he could--by boat, air or land. Whether he came from Cyprus or from Damascus, he moved through Syrian-occupied territory to visit his cement plant.

A dangerous assignment, but the billionaire was sanguine as he told the story. "I went myself; nobody volunteered," he says with a shrug of the shoulders. "We just tried to survive, and we did."

Schmidheiny was committed to the 600 Lebanese families who depended on the plant for their livelihoods--"we had a certain moral responsibility"--and he believed, correctly, that the economy would bounce back. Besides, he felt he owed it to his grandfather and father to keep the plant going because they had founded it.

Schmidheiny, 49, is worth $1.8 billion, according to Forbes estimates, but his staff says it's more. He owns 60 percent of the voting stock in Holderbank, whose market value rose to $6 billion by the end of 1994 after having doubled in the past two years.

Then there are his art collection and private investments, including Lebanese, Swiss and Canadian real estate, construction material firms in the United States and a stake in Estée Lauder. His younger brother, Stephan, 47, is worth $2 billion, according to Forbes.

Although their combined wealth is massive, there's a family tradition of splitting the companies among siblings so that each has a business he can call his own. "The business was divided between my grandfather and his brother, my father and his brother, and between me and my brother," says Schmidheiny. "The secret of our success really is this division of companies to people who basically are willing to take responsibility."

In Switzerland, the Schmidheiny family is a legendary business dynasty that has dabbled in politics, not unlike the Du Ponts or Rockefellers in the United States.

But in his hometown of Jona, population 15,000, Schmidheiny is just another resident. He and his wife, Suzanne, send their four children to the local state-run schools. The youngest earns pocket money working as an assistant to the Holderbank's gardener. "They pay him $8 an hour--way too much," says the CEO.

On his way to our interview, Schmidheiny walks the 5-minute route from his office to a restaurant, dressed in slacks, a blazer, a striped tie and short-sleeve shirt. The other customers barely look at him and the waitress simply says, "Hello, Mr. Schmidheiny."

As a warm-up for the day, he swam 30 minutes in the 62° F Zürich lake. Now lunch is a light meal of salad and fish, at which he drinks, with gusto, the 1993 Kümin Chardonnay Quinten Walensee. After the first glass of wine he begins to laugh heartily. Both in speech and gesture he comes across as laid-back and friendly, even offering to lead a personal tour of Lebanon's three top wineries.

Wine was an integral part of Schmidheiny's youth. On Wednesdays, when other school kids in Switzerland have the afternoon off, Thomas was on cleanup assignment at the family's 10-acre vineyard and winery in Heerbrugg, a two-hour drive from Zürich; he made 5 cents an hour. "When the vineyards came down in mudslides, we hauled it back up," he says of the difficult work. Today, the winery produces a little over 4,000 cases of mostly Riesling, Pinot Noir and sparkling wine.

His knowledge of wine led Schmidheiny to appreciate the potential of the company quarries for good vineyard terroirs. The northern Italian quarry produces 10,000 cases of Grignolino, Chardonnay, Barbera and "an excellent Barbera aged in wood for three years." Another quarry is in one of Switzerland's best wine regions, Ticino, and a third is on the Swiss-German border close to Zürich. Each offers the unusual sight of vineyards planted near huge, excavated holes in the earth.

But Cuvaison is the Schmidheiny family's largest and most prestigious wine operation. The family acquired Cuvaison in 1978 after Thomas' mother, Adda, toured the Napa Valley and fell in love with the place.

"Cuvaison is more an accident than anything else," says Thomas. "My mother is fanatical about Cuvaison. She is 80 years old and still very involved, asking what's going on, what wines are we bringing in, how is it going. "

After the family hired winemaker John Thacher and German marketing veteran Manfred Esser as president, Cuvaison grew quickly; it produced about 60,000 cases in 1994. It has carved out a niche for making fruity, supple Merlots, Cabernet Sauvignons, Chardonnays and recently a Pinot Noir. As is typical of his management style, Schmidheiny has rewarded Esser and Thacher with a piece of the action; they own a combined 8 percent of Cuvaison.

Schmidheiny's own wine cellar comprises about 1,000 bottles, with surprisingly little red Burgundy or Bordeaux. Besides Cuvaison's wines, he likes white Burgundy, good Rioja and, from Italy, Barolo (particularly Aldo Conterno) and Sassicaia. "It's always a fight to get those bottles," he says of Sassicaia. "I am on allocation and can only get four to six bottles a year. That is an absolutely fantastic wine, by the name, by the marketing, by any standards."

When asked how much he is worth, Schmidheiny answers with conviction: "I really don't know. I couldn't answer and I am not interested in it whatsoever."

Others may tally up their billions, but Schmidheiny isn't into bean- counting. "What for?" he asks. "I have my job. I love challenging my people to solve problems, to grow and to enrich the company. I don't care what I am worth. And if Holderbank's shares go down from 1,050 to 800 francs," he says, referring to such a dip last year, "and I lose hundreds of millions, so what? Actually, it's my problem and my pleasure that *the stock* goes up again."

Cuvaison may be just a drop in the barrel in the context of Schmidheiny's billions, but he and his family are attached to it. "I don't think you should have these wineries for returns and appreciation," he says. "It should be over and above that."

Although he intends to run the winery professionally and make a profit, Schmidheiny has learned an essential fact about the business. "Wine," he says, "is more guts than brain."

--P.-H.M.

Giovanni Agnelli

The Fiat magnate has put his money where his mouth is: the great Château Margaux and other Bordeaux properties

A wine lover famous for his zest for the good life, Italian tycoon Giovanni Agnelli seemed not the least upset when he toured Château Margaux for the first time on April 21, 1991. Only hours before, one of the worst frosts of this century had struck Bordeaux.

As it turns out, Agnelli and his nephew Ruy Brandolini had already begun merger talks with Corinne Mentzelopoulos, whose family bought the château in 1977. A natural disaster wasn't going to sidetrack the deal or Agnelli's enthusiasm for the prestigious estate. A few months later, in the summer of 1991, the Agnelli family's holding company IFINT took a majority position in Exor, the château's parent company.

Exor also possessed other high-class assets, including 21 prestige buildings in Paris' "golden triangle" and the mineral water giant Perrier. "Margaux was part of the global deal, but we were very, very happy that it was part of the deal. It's a magic name," says Brandolini, 47.

The Mentzelopouloses thus brought Margaux into the fold of one of Europe's most well-known industrial dynasties. Agnelli, 74, and family own a controlling 30 percent of automaker Fiat, which had $40 billion in sales last year. Forbes recently estimated Agnelli and family's worth at $3 billion, down from $3.9 billion last year.

The second time Agnelli visited the château was for a party with the King of Greece and Javier Perez de Cuellar, then secretary-general of the United Nations, during the rainy harvest in 1992. "We were visiting the château in the rain," recalls Mentzelopoulos, "and he says, 'This is really a treat because it's such a change from the office.' And I'm thinking, well, it's not a good change because it's pouring rain. For him this was all very special."

Margaux isn't Agnelli's first investment in Bordeaux. The family bought Château Greysac in lower Médoc in 1973, after Agnelli went to see it. "He liked the place and liked the wine," says his nephew. The Agnelli family now owns 222 acres between Greysac (25,000 cases, half of which are shipped to the United States) and the adjacent châteaus Les Bertins and Monthil.

"At family gatherings," adds Brandolini, "we could drink anything: It could be Margaux, it could be Greysac or it could be my brother's wines." His brother, Brandino, makes Merlot and other wines in northeastern Italy's Veneto region at the family's winery, Vistorta, as did his grandfather and father before him.

Not surprisingly, the Agnellis are proud of Margaux and showcase it anytime they can. "When I have a business dinner and lunch, and I am hosting it, I choose Margaux," adds Brandolini. "I mean, why should I buy any other wine?"

--P.-H.M.

Keizo Saji

Luckily for fans of Château Lagrange, this cultured Japanese billionaire also loves the culture of wine

Ever since Suntory bought Château Lagrange in 1983, the Bordeaux third growth has been unprofitable, losing more than $1 million a year. But the Osaka-based conglomerate has kept pouring money into its flagship estate in the Médoc commune of St.-Julien, no questions asked.

This largesse is due principally to 75-year-old Suntory chairman Keizo Saji's personal love for and interest in wine, as well as to the commitment of his nephew, Shinichiro Torii, the group's president. Overall, Suntory had a very good year in 1994, with sales reaching $7.3 billion. Forbes estimates Saji and family's net worth at $2.4 billion.

"Sure, Suntory is an old wine and spirits house, but Mr. Saji is fascinated by wine," says Seiichi Nagata, a Suntory executive. "So it's a personal passion. He himself wants to make very good Bordeaux wine."

Known as a man of culture--Tokyo's famed music hall is named the Suntory Hall--Saji installed Japanese art in the château and even built a traditional Japanese grillroom, known as a teppan yaki. "He likes to entertain, to eat and drink wine. It all corresponds totally to the culture of wine," says Marcel Ducasse, director of Château Lagrange.

Saji's passion also applies to Chateau St. Jean in Sonoma County and Robert Weil in the Rheingau, two wineries his company owns that lead their regions. Suntory also owns Yamanashi and Iwanohara wineries in Japan and Cognac Louis Royer in Jarnac, France. And Suntory has a 40 percent interest in Château Beychevelle, a fourth growth in St.-Julien, and part interests in Château Beaumont in Haut-Médoc and Hétsz´´ol´´o in Hungary's Tokay region.

After Suntory bought Lagrange for $10.8 million, it invested another $40 million in various improvements such as replanting vineyards and building a modern winery and aging cellars. The effort has paid off: Wine Spectator rated the 1989 Lagrange a classic (95 points). The 1990 (also 95) was named ninth most exciting wine in the world on our 1993 Top 100 list.

As one of the Médoc's largest properties--279 acres of vineyards--Lagrange has to keep prices reasonable to find buyers for about 60,000 cases, 25,000 of the first wine alone. Luckily for consumers, Lagrange retails for about $30 a bottle, a steal in good years.

"If Mr. Saji didn't consider wine as something cultural and long-term, he would have closed us down a long time ago," says Ducasse. "Do you know how many companies would allow a subsidiary to lose money for 11 years and never complain?"

--P.-H.M.

Alain Wertheimer

Chanel's chief smells a sweet opportunity in his stewardship of Bordeaux second growth Rausan-Ségla

Alain Wertheimer wanted to buy Château Latour, but he's not losing sleep over the loss of the Bordeaux first growth to French businessman François Pinault.

In the Bordeaux second growth Château Rausan-Ségla, the Chanel Inc. chairman has found a notable under-performer to turn around. "I've no doubt that Rausan can get much better," says its owner. "It's a question of work, time, effort and ultimately money."

Wertheimer, 46, has shown a talent for improving the value of all Chanel Inc.'s assets since he took the reins from his father in 1974, when he was just 25.

Headquartered in New York, the family-held Chanel empire of perfume, fashion and accessories is believed to gross about $1 billion a year. Forbes reports the figure may be closer to $900 million for 1994 because of a decline in perfume sales.

The magazine estimates Alain Wertheimer and family's net worth at $2 billion. Wertheimer's brother, Gérard, 44, is based in Geneva, Switzerland. Their half-brother, Charles Heilbronn, 41, is the company's other family director.

In 1994, shortly after losing Latour, Chanel paid an estimated $28 million for Rausan-Ségla, in Margaux. "In a way it's more interesting to have Rausan than Latour," says Wertheimer. "We never bought anything at the top."

It didn't take much to convince him to buy the château. He has been drinking Rausan for years and has more of it-- especially the 1978, '82 and '83--than any other wine in his 3,000-bottle cellar.

From his home in New York, Wertheimer follows the estate's progress closely. During the harvest he was on the phone almost daily for weather updates. "I don't want to pester them," he says, "so today I won't call." A couple of hours later, though, he calls the château anyway.

Since Château Mouton-Rothschild's elevation to first growth in 1973, Rausan tops the list of second growths on paper, but not in terms of reputation. Wertheimer is bankrolling a plan to revive the château's 19th century glory, right down to planting more Petit Verdot to mirror the exact varietal makeup of 100 years ago.

In the past year 35,000 new vines replaced dying ones. The château itself is being remodeled, the winery is getting a new cellar and bottling room, and 14 miles of pipes will be laid for drainage.

Rausan, with 123 acres of vineyards, makes 10,000 cases of the grand vin and about the same of a second wine, Ségla.

Will Rausan rival the super-seconds or even the first growths one day? "If I say yes, it looks like I'm bragging," replies Wertheimer. "Let's speak in 10 years. Then we will see."

--P-H.M.

Owsley Brown II

A fourth-generation, family-owned spirits business increasingly relies on wine to bolster its fortune

Long before paying $80 million in 1992 for the Mendocino County-based Fetzer Vineyards, Owsley Brown II had announced that his family-controlled corporation was on the "acquisition trail" for a California winery.

Brown-Forman may be best known for its world-famous Jack Daniel's whiskey and Southern Comfort liqueur, but the company's purchase of Fetzer was perfectly in sync with what American consumers want: more wine and less spirits.

Alcoholic beverages remain Brown-Forman's core business, accounting for 70 percent of total sales of $1.7 billion in fiscal 1995. Today, however, wine represents 20 percent of the alcoholic beverage business, up from 14 percent five years ago.

This year the firm's CEO, Brown, 52, added the title of chairman when his brother, William Lee Lyons Brown Jr., 58, stepped down as planned. The succession represents the seventh time in four generations that a member of the founding Brown family of Louisville, Ky., has assumed control of the 125-year-old company.

The Browns own 70 percent of the Class A voting stock of the company, which is listed on the New York stock exchange. Forbes estimates the family's net worth at $1.37 billion.

In 1991, Brown-Forman acquired Jekel Vineyards in California's Monterey County and became the exclusive sales and marketing agent for Fontanafredda wines of Italy. The company also owns 40 percent of Bolla, a winery in Verona, Italy.

In addition to marketing Fetzer (yearly sales of about 1.8 million cases) and Bolla (885,000 cases), the company also handles Korbel (1 million cases), making it the nation's fifth-largest wine marketer.

--P.-H.M.

Manuel Jorge Cutillas

The fifth-generation head of the Bacardi family has moved the famous rum company into wine with the acquisition of Martini & Rossi

Fecundo Bacardi would be proud. Five generations after the Spanish immigrant landed in Cuba and started a rum distillery, his descendants control a company with $3.5 billion in yearly sales and 8,000 employees.

The current head of the family, CEO Manuel Jorge Cutillas, 63, is Fecundo's great-great-grandson. Founded in 1862, the company has always been run by a Bacardi or an in-law.

The family has prospered by sticking together in good times and bad. After Fidel Castro nationalized their Cuban assets in 1960, the family continued to produce rum at other distilleries in the Bahamas, Puerto Rico, Brazil and elsewhere. Bacardi rum is the world's No. 1-selling spirit brand, with 6.2 million cases sold in 1994.

Ownership is scattered among 150 Bacardis and in-laws. Forbes estimates the Bacardi family's worth at $1.8 billion, but Cutillas believes the company is worth at least $5 billion.

Since acquiring Martini & Rossi for around $1.8 billion in 1992-93, the Bacardis' empire extends to large vineyard holdings in northern Italy. These are the grape sources for Martini & Rossi's vermouths and sparkling wines.

A chemical engineer, Cutillas started at Bacardi 40 years ago. Residents of Nassau, the Spanish citizen and his wife, Rosa, have one son. "I love wine," he says. "But apart from the Martini & Rossi vineyards, I don't think we will invest in wine properties around the world."

--P.-H.M.

Elías Masaveu and Cristina Masaveu

A secretive family holds an interest in Spanish masterpieces, such as La Rioja Alta

Elías Masaveu presides over a reported $1 billion empire, one of Spain's most secretive, which includes interests in two Rioja wineries.

The principal heiress to the family fortune is Cristina Masaveu, now in her late 50s. When her brother, Pedro Masaveu Peterson, died in 1993, the family paid inheritance taxes in the form of a donation of 410 artworks valued at a minimum of $60 million. Elías, Pedro's first cousin, who is in his 60s, stepped in to run the business from the family's home base of Oviedo, in northwest Spain.

The wealth derives from more than 50 companies in cement, banking, real estate, shipping, electrical utilities and transportation, and there's also a hefty art collection that boasts Spanish masters including Goya and Velázquez.

The Masaveus own about 5 percent of La Rioja Alta, the venerated winery valued at $58 million by Rioja sources. Founded in 1890, La Rioja Alta, with 618 acres of vineyards and annual production around 140,000 cases, is one of the pillars of the Haro wine trade. It ships about 5,000 cases annually to the United States of its reds (Viña Alberdi, Viña Ardanza and Gran Reserva 904).

The family also wholly owns Bodegas Murua, valued at about $6.7 million. The current production is 25,000 cases, but little is exported to the United States.

Elías attends La Rioja Alta's board meetings and adds a personal touch by bringing dessert for the post-meeting lunch and tasting.

Cristina splits her time between her family's palace in Oviedo and three other Spanish homes in Madrid, Marbella and Ibiza.

--Al Goodman

August Oetker

A German patriarch keeps the Rheingau's most famous estate all in the family

With an annual turnover close to $3.4 billion, the Oetker group of food, shipping, chemicals and retailing companies is one of the largest family-owned businesses in Germany.

However, even this figure doesn't include the family's interests in the financial, mineral water and sparkling wine industries, or its ownership of Germany's most famous wine estate: Schloss Johannisberg in the Rheingau.

Forbes places the net worth of patriarch Rudolph Oetker, 71, and family at $3.1 billion. The present chief of the family business is August Oetker, 51-year-old great-grandson of the founder. He lives in Bielefeld, the German town where the company is headquartered.

The Oetkers bought 50 percent of Schloss Johannisberg in 1978 from Fürst von Metternich, then the remaining half a few years later. The estate is more famous than the Oetkers' second Rheingau winery, Von Mumm. Both are subsidiaries of the family's $35 million (yearly sales) sparkling wine group, Henkell & Söhnlein. The Oetkers also own two hotels, including Le Bristol in Paris.

Schloss Johannisberg made wine history in 1720 when it became home to the first varietal Riesling vineyard. It also made the very first spätlese and auslese late-harvest wines ever, after the estate discovered how the fungus Botrytis cinerea (noble rot) could improve wine quality.

Schloss Johannisberg is one of only two Rheingau estates that are also the exclusive owners of a great vineyard site (87 acres, 100 percent Riesling) bearing their own name. The Von Mumm and Johannisberg yearly production lies just below 84,000 cases.

--Stuart Pigott

Leo Kirch

A German media baron has kept a stake in the winery founded by his father and now run by his brother

Even as he expands his empire, German media mogul Leo Kirch doesn't ignore his roots. The son of a Bavarian vineyard owner, Kirch stays closely tuned to the family winery. The family-owned Franz Kirch Weingut in southern Germany's Franken region now comprises 22 acres planted with Silvaner, Riesling, Pinot Noir and a few other varieties.

Kirch, 68, has emerged as the "dominant force in German broadcasting," The New York Times reported recently. Headquartered in Munich, the privately held company of this intensely private man--his last inter-view was in the late 1980s--reportedly posted $4 billion in sales last year.

Only seven years after the Kirch Group entered the television business, it owns widespread interests in Germany's leading broadcasting companies, cable channels, film and record production companies, publishing, radio stations, movie theaters and Europe's largest library of movies and television programming.

Two years ago, Forbes pegged Kirch's fortune at over $1.7 billion, ranking him as the 15th-wealthiest German. Kirch and his wife, Ruth, have one son, Thomas, 36.

Leo's brother Franz, 59, became involved in the winery full-time 25 years ago, but Leo still remains a partner. The winery makes about 7,500 cases a year, according to Kirch's nephew, Matthias. He is the winemaker and also runs his own négociant firm, Weinkeller Matthias Kirch.

"*Leo Kirch* is a busy man but he takes time to come and visit the winery," says Matthias, 34. "And he calls us at least once a week to find out how the vineyards and the grapes are doing."

--P.-H.M.

Heidrun Leibbrand

The widow of a German supermarket baron is taking a personal interest in a venerable Rheingau estate

When German supermarket magnate Willi Leibbrand died two years ago at age 61, he left his widow, Heidrun, now 56, and their two children a fortune that Forbes estimates is worth $1.5 billion today.

Since that time, Hildrun has taken an active role in Schloss Reinhartshausen, the family-owned Rheingau property that consists of a famed winery and luxury hotel in the village of Erbach.

"This is part of her husband, and her heart is in it," says a winery official. Leibbrand pays weekly visits from her home in Bad Homburg near Frankfurt. She oversaw the remodeling of the hotel in the late 1980s, but has made no changes at the winery.

The family has always shunned publicity. Even when Willi Leibbrand co-hosted a wine event at Schloss Reinhartshausen three years ago, few guests recognized that the small man with receding hair and large glasses who sat in the corner was their billionaire host.

Leibbrand took his father's single grocery store and, in less than 30 years, turned it into a discount supermarket empire with 3,500 stores and 100,000 employees. He pulled out from this business in 1991 in an effort to create a wine and luxury goods group.

The crown jewel of his acquisitions was his purchase of 95 percent of Schloss Reinhartshausen, one of the best-known Rheingau estates. The winery's 188 acres of vineyards include such famous sites as Hattenheimer Wisselbrunnen and the monopole Erbacher Schlossberg. It produces about 50,000 cases a year, almost all Riesling.

The family's other wine and spirits interests include the Graeger sparkling wine company in Hochheim and brandy distiller Ziegler of Freudenberg in Franken.

--Stuart Pigott and P.-H.M.

Akihiko Otsuka

The head of a giant, privately held Japanese conglomerate owns California's prestigious Ridge Vineyards

After a group of shareholders founded Ridge Vineyards in the Santa Cruz Mountains south of San Francisco in 1959, they pursued excellence above all.

It's a tradition that Japanese businessman Akihiko Otsuka, 59, has followed ever since he bought the winery in 1986. A resident of Kyoto, Otsuka heads a family-owned pharmaceutical and health drinks conglomerate based in Osaka that had combined sales of $2.7 billion last year, according to Forbes. The magazine estimated Otsuka and family's net worth at $3 billion.

"None of us ever took any profits out of Ridge, and when Mr. Otsuka saw that tradition, he admired it and said he wished it to continue," says Paul Draper, a former shareholder and Ridge's winemaker and CEO. "And the profits allow us to continue to improve our vineyards and our facility."

Famous for its single-vineyard Zinfandels and its Monte Bello, which is one of California's most collectible Cabernet Sauvignons, Ridge has a total production of about 50,000 cases a year.

Otsuka's factories and research centers are scattered around the world, including several in the United States, but Otsuka shuns the limelight; he declined to be interviewed.

As a collector, Otsuka already had a personal involvement in wine when the previous owners approached him about buying Ridge. Now he comes to Ridge once a year to taste the new vintage. "He is a very good taster," says Draper. "He doesn't consider himself a connoisseur, but he is a connoisseur in food and wine, and in excellence in general."

--P.-H.M.

Anton Rupert

A South African family runs a far-flung empire from the heart of the country's premier wine region

Wine is more than a passing hobby for the Rupert clan. Aside from their extensive industrial, financial and luxury goods holdings, members of South Africa's second richest family are emotionally tied to wineries that 79-year-old Anton Rupert has acquired over the years.

Of the family's three estates in the Franschhoek valley, L'Ormarins winery and the Fredricksburg vineyard are headed by Rupert's son Anthonij and La Motte winery is directed by his daughter Hanneli.

The family also owns Fleur du Cap, a brand named after a beautiful château where the family patriarch entertains guests and operates a vine roostock nursery. He lives with his wife, Huberte, in Stellenbosch, the heart of South Africa's fine wine country.

The Rupert family controls the Rembrandt Group, a sprawling conglomerate with interests in many South African industries from tobacco to petrochemical, banking, mining, wine and spirits. The group posted $1.4 billion in earnings in fiscal 1995.

Outside South Africa, the Ruperts control Compagnie Financière Richemont, based in Geneva, Switzerland, which reported about $7 billion in earnings last year. It owns the Vendôme luxury goods group and its brands Cartier, Piaget, Karl Lagerfeld, Montblanc and Alfred Dunhill--all known around the world--among others. The family has entered into a partnership with another billionaire wine lover, Leo Kirch , in television deals in Italy.

Anton Rupert also holds interests in three South African wine and liquor companies: Stellenbosch Farmers Winery, which owns the famed Niederburg estate; W&A Gilbey; and Distillers, which produces about 10 million cases of wine a year and owns the large négociant The Bergkelder.