And the akademi goes to...

Vodka School Drop Out

So I didn’t get to march up proudly and receive a certificate of completion at the Absolut Akademi. Education is not about tests, awards or pieces of paper. Education is really about continuous learning and application of prior knowledge. And after a few hours of lectures, some slideshows, a dozen fancy cocktails, and several years of barflying, I think I have learned a thing or two about vodka.

Absolut Akademi is a kind of roving seminar intended for bar owners and ad people on the latest uses of Absolut’s enchantments. Our professor for the afternoon was Absolut ambassador Jan Torenheim, who hails from Sweden but circles the globe spreading the gospel of the grain often enough that he only spends around three to four days a month in his hometown, land of modular bachelor furnishings, idiot-proof cars and of course, crystal clear 40-proof vodka.

Contrary to popular urban legend, not all vodka is made from potatoes, nor are the top brands necessarily from Russia. All the Absolut vodka drunk worldwide is made from wheat grown in one particular area of southern Sweden, the bucolic region of provincial Skåne. Imagine fields of ripe gold, billowing in the sunshine. Imagine happy harvesters, breathing in the smell of fresh bread. Imagine the fun they must have, nighttime at the distilleries. The ancient town of Åhus houses the distillery, which filled its first bottle of Absolut in 1979 – coincidentally the year I was born.

How does all this starch-chocked winter wheat turn into the colorless, flavorless, and odorless liquid we like to suss up our OJ with? (Trivia: "Vodka" is water in Russian. No wonder vodka is water in Russia.) The magic process lies somewhere in what is called continuous distillation, which means the spirit is distilled over and over until all impurities have been removed. When it reaches an alcoholic content of 96 percent, it is stored in cisterns and blended with, naturally, Sweden’s purest, freshest mountain spring waters, then bottled in one of their six bottling lines. And there it is, literally and figuratively a spirit, the distilled essence of wheat and water, a liquefied genie filtered in a liter.

Absolutism

This "One Source" philosophy means that Absolut has total control over the raw materials, production and overall quality of their vodka. The brand takes absolute pride in its crisp image and the postcard perfection of its country-fresh origins. Most people however do not necessarily think of Sweden when they see or hear the name Absolut, nor does it immediately trigger a glandular Pavlovian response and have people running toward the bar. For the sensory-overloaded generation, the Absolut aura is created in its ads.

Undeniably one of the most brilliant advertising campaigns in the past decades, the brand has managed to elevate the robustly shaped bottle to iconic status, on par even with the golden arches, the swoosh sign and the bitten apple. Not simply a representation, but an insinuation into art, culture and fashion. Perhaps most memorable is the Cities campaign, where the shape of the bottle integrates itself with the spirit of the city, through historical landmarks and popular memory, a quirky and irreverent take on the traditional postcard. The vodka itself has disappeared, leaving an empty vessel to be filled with local phenomena and flights of creative reasoning. The Cities series has become a sort of worldwide Where’s Waldo game, and different cities are starting to clamor for their own distinct mark on the map. Just this year Manila joined the fray with our always-dubious icon of traffic and pollution. "Absolut Manila" features a full-frontal jeepney, blazing horses and blaring lights, with the bottle shape constructed into the grille, topped off with a tissue box as bottle cap.

Tapping into national pride is just one of the many clever stunts Absolut pulls to achieve world domination. Andy Warhol was the first artist commissioned to render his own Absolut vision in 1985, and with this hepcat successfully in the bag the brand has since then married art with commerce – legitimized their union in one perfect industry. Diverse talents such as Keith Haring, Versace, Helmut Newton and Hollywood celebrities are others who have flaunted their names beneath the bottle (for more art-ads, absolut.com features in gallery style the work of upcoming artists, part of their Generations campaign). The lines kept between art and commerce have indeed fallen off the wagon, and while attending an Absolut exhibit in Sydney once, marveling at the designs, the sculptures and the mini-movies, I easily forgot, or perhaps didn’t stop to care that behind all this flashy artiness was really just a massive marketing strategy to get people to buy more vodka.

One of the modules presented was a slick video called "The Sensory World of Drinking," which took us to a posh bar environment where the elements of great nightlife is broken down into the five physical senses. Subdued techno-jazz and flirty bar chatter make up the sound, while Proustian waftings of ex-lovers’ colognes constitute some of the smelly ambience. Flaming metros and sexy single models glam up the room as they brush against each other and sip their cosmos. But take all of that away and you are left with the sound of ice tinkling in glasses, the smell of alcohol (perhaps someone had a blazing Blow Job, or burped too much beer), the sight of sweaty shakers and soggy coasters, the lingering taste of something bitter or fruity on your lips, and the feel of liquid warmth coursing through your belly. Basically, the bar is about the drink, and the drink (Absolut vodka, natch) permeates all sensory aspects in a more subtle and complete way than any advertising that screams or music that drowns.

Absolution

Vodka is the widest drunk liquor in the world. Its undefiled clarity and 7-Up simplicity belie its potency, but like the Absolut bottle itself, which reincarnates so easily, this purity indeed makes it incredibly versatile (plus it is less calo-horrific than most hard liquors). At the Akademi that afternoon we students of slosh were introduced to a variety of wild ways we can interpret the basic cocktail, shooter, martini. Mr. Bartender popped open six different bottles – plain, Citron, Mandrin, Kurant, Peppar and Vanilia. The cocktails were delicious and exotically adorned with fruit peels and powdery sprinkles, but unless you’re particularly froufrou and don’t mind waiting an arm and a leg, these drinks do take a bit longer to make than it does to down it. My personal hits were the "World’s Fastest Bloody Mary," which is a shot of Peppar followed by a wedge of tomato skimmed in salt, and the "Vanilia Turn Over," a shot of Vanilia chased with a slice of lime lined in cinnamon. There appears to be only one bottle of Vanilia in the whole Philippines, increasing the worth of that last shot a hundredfold – it was truly vanil-yummy.

Ambassador Jan taught us how to toast Swedish style. "Skol!" everyone shouted, after he sang a dirty rendition of the Beatles’ Yesterday entitled "Syphilis." Those Swedes! (Trivia: "Skol" refers to the skull helmets the Vikings used to drink their mead from in the old days). After the last drops of everything had been siphoned off, commencement was upon us. But true to the truant that I’ve somehow always been, I missed out on graduation yet again. I do however look forward to the next class reunion, although it better not be in the form of AA.