Dwór Wilkowice

cultural heritage since 1850 / Poland

Wilkowice Hall




The Hall



Dwor Wilkowice: Vision 

Dwor Wilkowice  is a term, which aims to encapsulate the estate’s objects, both literally and figuratively. On one hand, the material objects consist of the Hall with its adjacent park and farmland. Then again, Dwor Wilkowice represents the greater object of continued and revitalised tradition in the fields of arts, sciences and industry, where the Winemaking is the beacon of these endeavours.

Wilkowice Hall is a neoclassical stately home situated in the moraine hills of central Poland, availed in the rich historical and cultural heritage of its locality. During the tumultuous time for Poland, namely the periods of Partitions and Occupation, the Hall offered refuge to eminent Poles who endeavored to hold Poland’s values under an aegis for the benefit of future generations. After the end of WWII, the estate sadly succumbed to its untimely demise. Finally, with the passing of decades, an opportunity arose to revive this forlorn generational trust and restore Wilkowice to its former glory, upon private investment into the estate starting in 2007. 

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The restoration efforts were always seen as the foundation for the next chapter to be written in harmony with the need to reverberate the history of the place and its former residents. 

The answer laid in the vision of creating a truly homegrown vineyard to produce remarkable Wine. 

Every effort we undertake to deliver truly special wines is underscored by a steadfast belief; that when done right, we are but merely loyal to the experience of wine and its place, which offers to bring us closer to the transcendental. Each moment of delectation should imbibe both the mind and the spirit, and this journey embarks with the wines from Dwor Wilkowice as understood through the history of this equally remarkable place. 


Winemaking at Wilkowice Hall



Rzadko na moich wargach
Niech dziś to warga ma wyzna
Jawi się krwią przepojony,
Najdroższy wyraz: Ojczyzna.

Rarely on my tongue
Let the tip of my tongue profess this day
Presents itself blood-soaked
The dearest of terms: Homeland
— Jan Kasprowicz, Poem 40 in The Book of the Poor, 1916

Wilkowice Hall, Poland