From rock to cava: “I would have preferred to be an unknown,” says Bebe Contepomi
As soon as he enters Nika Club Omakase, Bebe Contepomi greets the sushi waiters with the warmth of a regular. As he sits down at the table, he orders a glass of white wine that will go perfectly with the meal. A rock man, a recognizable face from a thousand and one concert coverages, Bebe has set foot in another world: that of wine, a passion in which he invests time while, now away from the cameras, he dedicates himself to producing events and content, with a folklore festival in December—with figures like Chaqueño Palavecino—as his next challenge.
“Today I was able to reinvent myself as a producer,” he says, at 55. “I never pursued fame or being known; it was a way to make money doing something I loved, like journalism and music,” adds Bebe, who a few days ago launched his Bebe Vinos wine line, the fruit of a years-long relationship that blends music and drink.
–What is your connection with wine?
–Through my work in music and television, I was fortunate enough to meet two great winemakers who had a profound impact on me. With Pop Art, we produced Wine Rock, a festival held at the Monteviejo Winery, where the winemaker was Marcelo Pelleriti. Marcelo and I tasted many wines, and he told us their stories. Later, I had several encounters with Alejandro Vigil, who told me about his passion and the history of El Enemigo. And I really like stories. I realized that wine not only has a centuries-old tradition in Argentina, but also has many stories. And I began to delve into that world through his stories.
–What stories did you want to tell with your wines?
–The first thing I did, long before Bebe Vinos, was the labels with the cockatoos. The description of those birds defines me a lot: they're restless, they make a lot of noise, they're very sociable... We can leave the intelligence thing aside [laughs]. That was many years ago, and that's where the project ended. We also had a gifted brand, because my nickname, Bebe, is a verb; it's to drink. It was then that Fran Evangelista, who was making wines for several musicians, like Pedro Aznar and Juanchi Baleirón, contacted me.
Fran and I hit it off immediately and we started figuring out what kind of wine to make. I immediately told him about my favorite grape variety, which is Pinot Noir. He told me that although it's difficult to make, we'd go with that. The process was very harmonious and beautiful. And the wines had a very positive impact. Suddenly, I'm home and it's nice to be tempted to open my wine. That's what's happening now: I show them off with pride.
–Are you tempted to own a farm in the future, to get into the vineyard?
–Well, I'm a daredevil... But I'd have to think about it, and first, I'd have to ask my wife, who's also a wine lover. But that's for another post. Without being an expert, I like to explore places where I feel I know something, and this wine thing was a long process. Although I didn't study, I heard about how wines were made, all the flavors they can have. It took many years of that before I was able to make my own wine. I think the same thing would happen to me with a vineyard. But I wouldn't do it as an investment or as a hobby; if I do it one day, it will be because I've learned what it's all about.
–How involved were you in wines?
–Much more than I thought. Thanks to them, who wanted my opinion. I went to Mendoza several times to taste wines or processed grapes. I'd taste the wines and say, "I like this," or "What's so delicious about this?" "Pepper." "Okay, let's leave the pepper." It was all based on taste alone.
–Why do you like Pinot so much? How did you discover it?
I'm a partner at Street Bar, a sushi bar in Palermo, and there was a Pinot Noir brought from New Zealand called Dog Point. I tried it and loved it. Then I started researching, seeing what Pinot Noir was all about. At first, I felt a little guilty, because, well, like a man, you say "Malbec" or "Cabernet Sauvignon," but Pinot Noir is known for being very light. One day I mentioned this to Marcelo Pelleriti: "How can I go around saying that Pinot Noir is my favorite grape?" And he said, "Look, if you put someone in front of me and I can give them just one glass of wine to try, give me feedback, and see if they know anything about wine, I'll give them a Pinot Noir." That made me feel proud again, and I'll tell this anecdote to defend my love for Pinot Noir.
–What place does wine have in Argentine rock?
–Well, there are many songs dedicated to wine. One thinks rock is more closely linked to beer, but wine has its place. In fact, Pedro Aznar, Coti, Juanchi Baleirón, Las Pelotas, Ciro, Los Decadentes: they all have their own wine, not their own beer.
–And in your daily life, what place does it have?
–I respect the teetotaler, but... how do you eat a strip of barbecue without a glass of Malbec? How do you eat sushi without a glass of white wine? I'm not saying a bottle, but a glass. For me, wine occupies an absolutely gastronomic place. I'll have a barbecue or we cook something with my wife on the weekend, and there's a glass of wine. It's the famous pairing: if there's this food, there's that wine. But I don't drink without food.
–What projects are you working on today beyond your wines?
–In journalism, I'm still in radio. I haven't done anything on television since I left La Viola in 2022, not even in streaming. It was a long time: 30 at TN, 25 with La Viola. I needed to rest. Today, I'm deeply involved with the production company El Bajo Producciones, where my brother Manuel, Flor Cardarelli, and Oscar Alvarado are partners. We're an advertising agency and content creator. We're currently producing a folklore festival at the Palermo Hippodrome with Chaqueño Palavecino. It's something totally new for me. Everyone associates me with rock, but I've been listening to tango and folklore my whole life.
–Don’t you miss TV?
–No, nothing. The truth is it was a whirlwind: many years, many trips, many festivals. I didn't have any weekends. With the La Viola team, we were number one: we had everything before anyone else, they sent us to cover all the international events. But to do that, you had to be there 24/7. Today I've been able to reinvent myself as a producer. I never pursued fame or being known; it was a way to make money doing something I loved, like journalism and music. If you gave me the choice, I would have preferred to be unknown all my life. But I couldn't find a way to make money, being unknown.
–How do you see the rock scene?
–Rock is currently at its peak. There's a resurgence of bands that perhaps weren't as well-known at the time and are now massive. Like Miranda, Airbag, and Turf, three bands that, with the same songs and a few new albums, are now filling venues they couldn't before. There are also new bands and classics.
–Could it be that we're not so prejudiced anymore and can listen to Pappo and Miranda on the same playlist?
–Well, that's something my generation and the one before it suffered a lot. It was crazy. They told you, "This is rock" and "This isn't rock." Today, kids, with digital platforms, teach us that they can listen to whatever they want. My son puts on a Bad Bunny song, then a Calamaro song, and then Duki. Before, that was impossible.
–Are you enjoying a recital today?
–I have a hard time going to concerts. I go see my friends: Babasónicos, Los Decadentes, Andrés Calamaro. Or, if my daughter asks me to, I'll go to a specific place. But I'm swamped with shows; I'm not saying this because I'm lazy or cocky. Besides, when I go, I'm already thinking about leaving, about leaving early so there aren't so many people, or when I arrive, I'm worried about where to park.
–How many did you go to?
–At one point, I went to six shows per weekend. And a lot of festivals. When I covered festivals for La Viola, they started at two in the afternoon and ended at one in the morning, and I was on live for 11 hours. Once, a keyboardist from a band at a festival looked at me, and I told him I was getting tired. And he said, “Sure, we come half an hour early, play for an hour, and leave. You’re on for 11 hours: you’re all the bands.” But I’m not complaining: it was exhausting, but I had a lot of fun.
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