Stories from the field – Robin Euvrad

He didn’t grow up between the vine rows. It was biology that led him to the land, and “wine that led him to the vine”. A portrait of a winemaker who sees the soil as the first link in the chain of life.

Trained as an agronomic engineer, it was plants that first captivated Robin Euvrad. After an early stint in agricultural consulting in northern France, he travelled the country as a vineyard hand – learning the techniques, the gestures, their history. In 2019, Robin settled in the Nantes wine region.

A chance encounter with Vincent, the manager of Eco-Dyn, a specialist agricultural equipment manufacturer, set everything in motion. Together, in 2020, they founded Domaine Pont Marmite: 30 hectares combining 5 of vines and 25 of cereals, rooted in the Muscadet terroir and committed to regenerative and biodynamic farming.

Nuffield scholar, LivingSoiLL’s open call beneficiary, Robin describes himself as a producer of grapes, wine, and knowledge in equal measure.

What are the main challenges you currently face regarding soil health and resilience in your vineyards?

In joining the Muscadet wine region, I inherited a set of techniques and a history. The soils are naturally fragile, and intensive use of agricultural chemistry has made them highly vulnerable to climate variability. A soil in trouble means declining yields and difficult fermentations.

I care deeply about the biological functioning of farming systems, and the challenge is enormous when it comes to moving away from the chemical inputs – fertilisers, pesticides – or the physical interventions like intensive tillage that have shaped these soils over time. Making humus by “turning air into soil” – that is my primary motivation.

Have these challenges evolved over the years? If so, what factors have influenced those changes?

I set up here in 2020. In 2021, frost cost me 80% of the harvest. In 2022, record drought and heatwaves literally dried the grapes on the vine. In 2024, 75% of the harvest was lost to downy mildew, and we went through another heatwave in 2025. In barely five years, I have experienced the full spectrum of agricultural disasters. It forces you to constantly revisit your techniques, to readjust. But it also reinforces the desire to change. With current farming practices, the risks are simply too high.

How do soil health challenges affect the day-to-day management of the vineyard and your decision-making? How do you respond concretely to soil health challenges?

For me, poor soil health shows up first as a loss of biological structure. Without that structure, there is no hope of biological processes functioning properly. And that loss of structure severely limits your room to act – within a matter of days you can go from a waterlogged soil to one too hard to work. That puts you in a position of helplessness, which is deeply uncomfortable.

In your experience, how does soil health influence grape quality and, ultimately, wine production?

The link between soil health and grape quality, and therefore wine quality, is fundamental. I see the soil-plant system as an inseparable unit. Physically, the plant roots into the soil and establishes very close connections. Biologically, that bond is dynamic and permanent: the plant feeds the soil through its root exudates, and the plant draws water and minerals from the soil to fuel its metabolism. I deeply believe in the concept of “one health”: the health of the soil determines the health of the plant and, ultimately, of the wine. A “sick” soil can no longer participate in that cycle of health. In 2022, for example, the drought affected yields, but its greatest impact was felt during winemaking. Managing bacterial pressure in the wines was extremely difficult, with numerous fermentation stalls.

Are there innovative practices or technologies you have adopted, or would like to adopt, to improve soil health?

The temptation is strong to pile up techniques, each as virtuous as the next. I try instead to respect a few fundamentals, then gradually add complexity. My core practices are respecting the integrity of the soil, through reducing the frequency and depth of tillage, but above all integrating plant cover. It is that dense, diverse, dynamically managed cover crop that must nourish and structure the soil, giving it all the “health” qualities we need for truly virtuous farming. That is the heart of my thinking: which species to sow? When to sow them to achieve the greatest biomass? Should they be fertilised? How to reintegrate them into the soil? It is fascinating work, and I see it as a major lever for breaking the vicious cycles of monoculture viticulture – the cover crop becomes a full crop, genuine fodder for my soil’s life.

I also work with quality composts, microbial inputs such as lactic ferments, plant-based preparations, and biodynamic preparations. I see all these complementary inputs as genuine starters, ways of sparking a virtuous biological dynamic in the system.

In your view, where does understanding your soil’s needs begin? Are there specific methods, tools or indicators you rely on to assess soil health?

I conceive of a living soil as the seat of multiple complex biological processes; all linked to humic matter. I like to think of these processes as a genuine fermentation – the creation of new substances through the transformation of existing materials. That requires very particular biological conditions, and first among them is oxygen. Soil compaction is therefore a major obstacle to good soil health.

For me, the first tool is always the spade test. With a little experience, it gives you all the information you need to prioritise interventions, through the observation of shapes, colours, and smells. It is easy to carry out and very well suited to everyday use by a farmer. I also regularly use a penetrometer, which allows a very quick assessment of soil compaction. More broadly, I see the use of the senses – sight, smell – as a very powerful tool for understanding the environment. The shapes and colours of the soil, its smell, the colours of the vines, the plants growing on the surface; all of these tell us about the health of our environment. It is a tool available to everyone, on the sole condition that you train your senses every day.

Has your approach to assessing soil health changed since joining LivingSoiLL, and if so, how?

My approach is the product of 15 years of practice, research, and questioning, built through contact with farmers, researchers, and technicians. It has taken shape gradually and rests on principles that are, in the end, very simple, grounded in the biological functioning of soil.

The LivingSoiLL project is the continuation of all that. It is a concrete space for exchanging ideas practically, for comparing experiences in sometimes very specialised practices, outside the usual formats. I love the idea that research also happens through proof on the ground, through our everyday experiences. You are always a little alone in day-to-day agricultural life, and this project allows me to lift my head and gain perspective on my own practices.

How did you become involved in LivingSoiLL, and what has it meant for your work and your understanding of the soil?

[Robin joined the project through the open call beneficiary.] I feel fully invested in it. I would say that this involvement forces me to structure my approach and has pushed me to test things I hadn’t yet dared to try. On the plot in question, I follow my usual plan, but there is always that extra thought: “For the project, what else should I consider? What other idea could we test?”

In your opinion, how can the farming community better communicate and raise awareness about the value of healthy soils?

I read a great deal, particularly agronomic literature from the early twentieth century, the nineteenth, all the way back to Antiquity. I am always struck by how the question of soil health has never gone away, constantly brought back to the fore as farming techniques and political and economic contexts shift. It falls to us to keep carrying these messages and spreading them around us.

What motivates you most to continue this work, and what would you like future generations to understand about the value of soil?

In my daily work I take an endlessly renewed pleasure in watching a plant grow, watching a fruit ripen. To care for this ecosystem, you must first care for the soil that sustains us. In doing all of this, I have each time the feeling of slipping a little further into the beautiful mechanics of the living world. Through all of it, I am not trying to convince anyone, I am trying to imagine formats that allow each person to become aware and take hold of these issues for themselves. I would love for people to stop separating the soil from everything else, to stop treating it as a production machine or a simple carbon store, and to start understanding it as a cornerstone of our human story.

Translated with AI.