Margaret Rand encounters a key player in the recent evolution of Argentinian wine.
By
Susana Balbo shares the narrative of her extensive and diverse journey as a winemaker, businesswoman, and resolute leader.
What do you call someone who had to contend with her parents, brother, bosses, financial institutions, and an astronomical inflation rate of 300% each month? She is known as Susana. A delicate, gentle name that signifies, according to online sources, “lily” or “lotus flower.” The expectations of her parents and the reality they received may have been quite different.
Susana Balbo stands out as a prominent figure in the Argentinian wine industry. She has served multiple terms as president of Wines of Argentina, owns two estates and a hotel, has held various consulting positions, and spent two years in the National Congress. Her wines have consistently exuded elegance and vitality, even at a time when many Argentinian wines lacked such qualities. However, her journey began with a hurdle: when she expressed a desire to pursue science—her girls-only convent school offered only the humanities or accounting—her parents refused, citing that science schools were coeducational. This is her story of perseverance and achievement.
Balbo comes from Italian heritage; her parents and grandparents immigrated to Argentina following World War I. Her parents only had primary education, while her brother completed secondary school. Despite this, Balbo possessed a scientific curiosity and aspired to study physics and mathematics. In Mendoza, where her family resided, the available academic paths were limited to accounting, law, or medicine. One day, while on her way to the supermarket, she crossed paths with a friend of her brother who suggested, “I understand you’re uncertain about your university options. I’m pursuing enology, and it could be a promising path for you.”
“He shared the program with me, which included chemistry, math, and other subjects I enjoyed. So, I decided to apply to the university.” Eventually, she graduated summa cum laude, but shortly after her enrollment, a military coup seized control of the government. “It was a bleak time for Argentina. It felt almost like a civil war.”
Eventually, she found it difficult to secure employment in Mendoza. The available positions were primarily in the laboratories of large corporations, and she believed that “a lab wasn’t my future. So, I waited for another option.” During this period, she helped her parents with their textile business, focusing on fabrics, linens, and embroidery.
“After a few months, I noticed a job listing for a winemaker in northern Argentina. It required four years of experience, proficiency in English and French—and I discovered the ad five months after it was posted. I thought, The guy’s not going to respond to my application. I didn’t meet any of [his criteria].” Despite this, she decided to apply—“Don’t ask me what I wrote”—and from 87 candidates, she was offered the position. “I was the only woman, and the owner remarked, ‘I’m taking a huge risk, because you will either excel or fail.’ I was 23 at the time. I wondered, Does he have a crush on me, or is he just flattering me?”
The winery was Michel Torino in Cafayate, where Balbo dedicated the next ten years of her life. “It was like my second university. Every aspect was a challenge. I had been quite sheltered: University was a walk in the park for me, and I didn’t have to work to support myself. My father was upset because he thought I didn’t need to work—but I craved the experience.
“Salta felt remote, nestled among the mountains, with no radio or television, and the power would go off at 9pm when the generator ceased operation. So, I had to learn to navigate situations I wasn’t used to. Back then, vehicles in northern Argentina used alcohol derived from sugar cane as fuel, which caused issues as the engines weren’t designed for it, leading to air getting into the distributor and stalling the car. It was a hassle to visit the mechanic, so I had to figure out how to fix it. If it happened in the mountains, you could find yourself stranded for six hours. Everything I needed for the winery was sourced from Salta, 200km away, and I could navigate that mountain road with my eyes closed.”
She first encountered her husband while he was employed in an administrative role at a different winery, owned by a woman notorious for issuing a mandate that forbade her executives from engaging in relationships with their counterparts at other wineries, solely because she was aware of her connection with him. He disregarded the warning and was subsequently terminated from his position. This situation was challenging for him, as Balbo mentions, since it was a small community with limited job opportunities. Consequently, he opted to work his father’s land, which involved cultivating crops under difficult conditions due to the scarcity of water.
Not long after, the owner who had brought Balbo on board suffered a heart attack and was advised by his doctor to retire, prompting him to sell the winery. Just as hyper-inflation hit, during Balbo’s last year at the establishment, the winery went through three different owners. One of them, she notes, diverted cash flow towards speculative ventures. As a result, she went almost an entire year without receiving any pay. “I had to provide for my family. At that time, I had two small children, just one and three years old. Thus, I had to reinvent myself by creating sleepwear and embroidered linens; I designed the products, and nuns in Cafayete produced them, which I then sold in Salta.
How does one navigate the challenges of hyper-inflation? This was her strategy. “I would reach out to my suppliers to verify the prices of labels and other materials. Early on Sunday or by 5 am on Monday, I would calculate costs and set the price for that day. I would start selling to my clients at 7 am, and they would send the payments before noon. I would receive the funds the following day and then settle all my supplier bills. Come Friday, I would ship out the wine.”
Balbo had a positive rapport with her in-laws. “My father-in-law was quite intelligent; he had established a hospital and managed a small winery. He held a lot of respect for me. Out of five daughters-in-law, I was the only one permitted in my mother-in-law’s kitchen, where I learned many recipes. It fostered a lovely bond.” However, tensions arose between Balbo’s father and her husband. Thus, in 1986, when her father invited her to collaborate with them on a new wine venture, she realized the discontent between them would make any future together impossible. “They opted to start the winery without me. My parents and my brother ended up being the sole owners.”
Balbo returned to Mendoza because she required a loan from her father to settle her debts. “Working with them was quite odd. I lasted six months. My brother was a difficult person to deal with.” They procured wine in large quantities and distributed it in demi-johns, selling roughly a million liters monthly. “Whenever I pointed out that a wine wasn’t up to standard, they would insist, ‘It’s fine, we’re going to buy it.’” Even more frustrating was the broken promise to find a job for her husband, which never materialized. Every evening, she would come home to find him sitting on the sofa, and his health began to deteriorate. So, after six months, she told her father that she intended to leave. Her father had mentioned, ‘I can’t give you shares, but I will provide you with 10% of the profits each year,’ so she requested that. However, her brother responded, ‘You’ve only been here for six months, and we haven’t settled the accounts’—he was unwilling to assist her.
Her father instructed him to give Balbo 3,000 demi-johns as compensation, valued between US$3,000 and US$4,000; “it was inexpensive wine.” She and her husband traveled across Argentina selling the wine door-to-door, and after two years, they purchased an old winery. They sold everything in Cafayete for $40,000 and borrowed money from her husband’s brother; the winery was purchased for $60,000, and they allocated $20,000 for renovations. Additionally, they received a loan from the Italian government for winery equipment; fortunately, Balbo held an Italian passport. A bank loan in Argentina rounded out their financial needs.
A few years later, they encountered a scam. A buyer requested 25,000 cases (which they were unable to produce), and they sought guarantees; the buyer provided payment insurance and issued eight weekly checks, all of which bounced. The insurance turned out to be fraudulent, resulting in Balbo’s suppliers demanding payment and seizing their bottled wine as compensation.
Balbo is notably tenacious—and she claims to have a guardian angel. (It appears that guardian angels come in varying qualities; hers seems particularly effective.) She recounts, “I encountered the owner of the insurance company one Sunday after working throughout the weekend. I had contacted his son, a national senator, to explain the situation. A family friend had mentioned that all insurance companies require reinsurance in London. Therefore, they could validate the insurance and recover some of the payments from their reinsurers. And I managed to retrieve 70% of the funds in four monthly installments.”
However, the repayment of the bank loan was due before the funds arrived. Balbo informed the bank that they would receive their payment; nonetheless, the bank chose to visit the winery to seize the equipment. “But I have a guardian angel. The warranty was for the old technology, not for the new technology in the winery. [The bank] wanted the new items, but [the documents] hadn’t been updated to account for the new items.”
The market was perilous, and hyperinflation continued unabated. Balbo decided to sell the winery. Two years later, the new owner reached out to her. “He mentioned that the bank was demanding payment for the loan; I reassured him it had already been settled. When the ownership changed, the bank had retained my payment of $60,000 in cash while still listing the debt.”
The bank transitioned from public to private ownership. Balbo then approached the new owner, explaining that all payment records would be stored in a folder in the archives. When she searched and found them, “He realized there was no issue. Yet, I witnessed the extent of corruption.”
Her marriage ended, her husband left Mendoza and returned to Salta, and she gave him half of what they had before embarking on her travels. She traveled to the US where she made wine and met various people; then she went to Europe, taking on several consultancy roles in Spain and Italy, as well as in Argentina. “I had a lot of work.”
The buyer for The Wine Society in Britain, while sampling different wines, inquired why she didn’t have her own winery. “He remarked that my wines matched the British taste, so I made the decision to rent a winery. I didn’t want to invest at first, but I came across an Italian man with a very new and small winery who needed support while undergoing treatment for cancer.” Initially, the wine was intended solely for export. The winery was named Anuvis, and the wine was purchased by Liberty Wines in London. This took place in 1999.
“By 2001, I felt the need to establish my own winery. I was already selling 15,000 cases, which felt insufficient, prompting me to purchase land and start planting. However, it was a particularly tough time in Argentina amidst the revolution. Thankfully, I had funds and savings in my account which I had earmarked for building a winery. In September, I began searching for a partner and offered a 40% stake for $600,000, the approximate amount needed for construction. Though I had money in the US, I needed to ensure I had savings to feel secure.”
Then everything changed with the events of 9/11. “Suddenly, a million dollars shrank to $350,000. By then, I was married again and I conveyed to my husband my intention to invest my own funds into the project, despite it being meant for my children’s education. That turned out to be the best decision I made. I managed to fund the winery without taking out loans, and inflation significantly increased my capital. I was able to complete the winery’s construction, with assistance from those who respected my long-term payment plans for tanks and other essential equipment. Many individuals stepped in to help me, and I managed to renovate everything.”
One year later, as her son was preparing to attend UC Davis, she learned that the tuition fees required upfront payment. Lacking immediate funds, she turned to credit options, including a loan from a doctor friend. A few years later, following her divorce from her second husband, this friend acquired 20% of the company for $3 million to settle the divorce.
Since that time, it has been relatively smooth sailing; at least, without any major upheavals. “I’ve been crafting wine for 42 years,” she explains. “I have established high-altitude vineyards at 1,600 meters; it’s a remarkable region for both white wines and Pinot Noir. I am planning to build a second hotel. I initiated a luxury hotel project. Last year, I launched three new companies. My focus is on nurturing them for the sake of my children and grandchildren. When life settles down, my aspiration is to reside in a quaint vineyard and impart my love for vineyards to my grandchildren.”
“When I invested my savings in a foreign nation, I began to feel a sense of financial security. My tax residence is in Uruguay. The hotel and the winery generate good revenue, and I have savings as well. I find comfort in having savings. My father shared this mindset. My brother, however, made my life challenging. He told my mother that when that company collapsed, I had taken money from it to support my own, and my mother believed him for three decades.”
“Currently, I compensate my mother and brother with salaries, though they contribute nothing to my efforts. My mother never contributed to a retirement fund, nor did my brother. My father had cash reserves, but my brother would take those funds and invest them impulsively.”
It was after the untimely death of her brother’s son due to cancer that, as she recounts, her brother began to change. “He confessed to my mother, ‘She never took money from the company, and I lied to you. I can’t leave this world without revealing the truth.’” Her mother sought Balbo’s forgiveness.
“I spent several years not speaking to them. My children questioned me, Why forgive them? But I responded, ‘Look at our situation, and look at theirs. We must forgive, or it can harm us in the long run.’
“My brother is thankful now. He resides with my mother. Although she isn’t unwell, she prefers not to walk, and he takes care of her. I express my appreciation to him, and he replies, ‘It’s the least I can do considering my past.’ After he lost his son, he understood that life is too brief to live dishonestly.
“My father once said, ‘The world is round; you will encounter people again, and it’s important to be able to face them.’ This insight inspired my involvement in politics. I believed I could make a difference for our nation.”
Both of Balbo’s children are now part of the winery: her son José serves as the winemaker, while her daughter Ana handles marketing and hospitality—she oversees the hotel operations. Additionally, her nephew, the son of her brother, manages the hotel as well. “He has been working with me for 23 years.”
Coming to terms with her life has been quite a journey. “I didn’t have a very happy childhood. Perhaps I would give the young Susana a huge hug and tell her, Trust in yourself. I was filled with insecurities and lacked self-esteem. By the age of 32, I felt older than my years. My mother concentrated on my father and brother, often saying, ‘Your brother is smart, but you won’t find a husband as handsome as your father.’” For many years, she engaged in Freudian analysis, describing it as “very long, very deep,” which helped her uncover many truths about herself.
“We are survivors in Argentina,” she reflects, adding about herself, “Resilience is my strongest trait. I see a glass half full.” As for her greatest flaw? “I lack patience. My parents suggested a teaching career, but I told them I would lose my temper if the students didn’t grasp the material. I couldn’t stand waiting for them to learn.” Her own experience with pregnancies was challenging; she had to rest or risk losing both children, which was difficult for her organized nature. “I am very structured, and there had to be a routine with the children: Up by 6am, then off to school, pick them up at 5, homework, dinner at 8, and bed before 9. Most of my friends were more relaxed, and my kids often complained. But when my son was in China, he called to express his gratitude. He said, If you hadn’t taught me what you did, it would be impossible for me to accomplish what I do.”
Susana Balbo has become a case study in entrepreneurship at Harvard, has received a lifetime achievement award, and her wines are celebrated globally. “Consider the lilies: they toil not, neither do they spin.” With so many names to choose from…