For Lark’s Chris Thomson, Whisky-Making is All About the ‘Intangibles’

Thirty years ago, Lark Distilling Co. lit the fuse on a national spirits revolution, but as master distiller Chris Thomson explains, Australia’s pioneering whisky label hasn’t lost its sense of curiosity.

In a dark and dimly lit bar, buried beneath the concrete chaos of Sydney’s bustling inner city, Chris Thomson holds a curious court. A leather satchel slung over one arm, the other gesticulating with cautious restraint, the Lark master distiller is deep in reflection. An audience of one, I sit, entirely captivated as he recounts the process of building the flavour profile that defined a nation.

“Sometimes, it’s in the intangibles. You can’t quite describe why a whisky should be made a certain way. It might be textural, and that flows onto experiential,” he tells me. “When Lark makes whisky, it’s not about making the best spirit, it’s always through the lens of ‘What is the greatest experience we can create using whisky?’. Those things might seem like they should be the same, but for each person, there’s a changing experience of what that might be.”

Dark Lark: Whisky for a Moment

Few expressions capture Chris’ philosophy more vividly than Dark Lark 2025. The third iteration of the Australian whisky label’s winter solstice-themed expression, this year’s instalment is inspired by Tasmania’s Bay of Fires, the whiskymaker’s personal sanctuary. As Chris explains, Dark Lark 2025 is an ode to communal, after-dark gatherings.

“When we were talking about centring it around Bay of Fires, I was really excited,” he explains whilst pulling two Glencairn glasses out from his satchel. “I envision this whisky at a beach fire, with seafood cooking, friends gathered, and the sun dipping below the horizon. This is a whisky designed for that after-dark moment where you break free of winter and break free of the cold.”

Laying the glasses out in front of us and carefully pouring two drams, Chris reveals that this release is undoubtedly the “best Dark Lark yet”. Awarded Gold at the 2025 World Spirits Competition in San Francisco, the limited release embodies everything Lark has become known for: bold flavour profiles that dance between tropical fruits and rich mocha tones, balanced by a secretive ‘smoothing’ process that Thomson is characteristically tight-lipped about. 

“It’s a secret. I can’t tell,” he laughs. “But it’s ultra-smooth. I think it’s the smoothest whiskey I’ve ever tried. You have depth and a sweetness that comes through in a different textural way due to this process we invented, which makes a super unique whisky.”

“As a whisky maker, we’re often thinking about the development of how it’s going to move across the palate as it warms the whisky, so we want the right viscosity versus the alcohol to allow it to slowly evolve and that really comes across the consumer as complexity.”

Kurio: A Bold New Frontier

If Dark Lark is a meditation on place, Kurio is a defiant leap into the unknown. Six years in the making, the new release represents the first sub-brand to emerge from the Lark portfolio, and it’s a stark departure from the Classic Cask foundation that has traditionally defined the label.

A blended all-Tasmanian malt finished in casks seasoned with fresh Tasmanian cherries, the first expression, Crimson Jam, is unlike anything ever released under the Lark banner. Vivid and light, the new release unapologetically challenges the conventional definitions of Australian whisky, and while that could be seen as a risk, Chris reminds me that it’s that very pioneering spirit that first brought Lark to the forefront.

“The Australian consumer is so open to new and wonderful flavours. It’s something that culturally we should be incredibly proud of, and we need to really keep,” he explains. “Not everywhere in the world has the freedom to have such a democratic view on whisky, so we are here to provide the best moments we possibly can for whisky consumers. The thing about Australia is that if it tastes good, it drinks well, then we’re on board, and if it’s a little bit divisive, then we’ll talk about it.”

Chris’ passion for Kurio is undeniable, and it’s not hard to see why. The combination of fresh Tasmanian cherry and sparkling Chardonnay notes speaks to the quality of the state’s local produce. In a very real sense, Kurio is a full-throttle celebration of Tasmania’s native bounty.

“I don’t know if everyone around Australia would realise, but Tasmania grows some of the finest cherries on the planet. So when we had the opportunity to play with cherries and we got so much support from the fruit growers, it just became this really easy decision to explore. Not everything in the land of R&D and experimental pieces works out, but this did. It just sings.”

Admittedly, this isn’t the first blended whisky Lark has produced, with the label’s much-loved Symphony No. 1 taking that honour, but Kurio is inherently different. Deliberately crafted to be versatile and accessible at just $120 per bottle, Crimson Jam represents a new frontier for Lark and for the Australian industry at large.

“This has been an ongoing curiosity for us over the last six or seven years. Not just me, but my team has this real passion for flavour creation, and how far we can start to push the whisky consumer experience in flavours,” Chris says. “This is definitely experimental New Age issuing in new moments for the newest consumers and those whisky consumers that have been around a long time. We want this to be super accessible.”

“If you ever told me 18 years ago that there would be whiskies like Kurio or Dark Lark, I would’ve been like, ‘Oh, who would want to drink that?’ But now, it’s the evolution of the industry. So what’s it going to be in another 20 years? In another 50 years? It is really exciting as a whisky producer and a whisky fanatic because it just feels like everything is positive and the possibilities are endless.”

Evolution, Not Revolution

For Chris, now 18 years into his Lark journey, few things surprise him. Of course, the sites have gotten bigger, and the machinery is far more advanced, but the process of building and developing flavours has remained steadfastly manual. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

“One of the things I’m most proud of over the last 18 years at Lark is the fact that we’ve tread this line of being so respectful, not just of our history, but of the history of whisky. I have a huge passion for the entire whisky industry, but still manage to find ways to be progressive and to take new steps forward,” Chris says. “Lark has done an incredible job of marrying those two aspects because we’re all massive fans of all whisky, but also we want to see what else is out there. We really see that as our role.”

A Whisky-Maker’s Responsibility

Now regarded as an elder statesman of the Australian industry—much to his dismay—the cheeky Tasmanian has come to appreciate not only the slow process of building complexity but also the profound impact that those flavours can impart.

“I’ve realised the responsibility that we have as whisky producers to our consumers; we might be invited to be part of the most important day in someone’s entire life,” Thomson tells me. “When you start to think about it like that, whisky making becomes really simple at that point. It just becomes a commitment; a commitment to your consumer and to who is coming to pick it up off that shelf. It’s just a commitment that you are going to give every bit of blood, sweat and tears to something important.”

As he leaves that sentence to linger in the air, as much for himself as it is for me,  I suddenly realise what Chris is on about. I guess I had never thought much about the ritualism and status afforded to whisky. To me, cracking a bottle in celebration was just something you did; a liquid acknowledgement of some important milestone, but to makers like Chris, there is no higher praise.

“If someone said to you, ‘You have to put together some work and the culmination of that work will be that I will toast the birth of my child’, you would think ‘Oh my God, what an honour’. I’m going to do every single thing that I can to make this the most extraordinary experience I possibly can.”

“When you look at what Lark is culturally, it’s the question of ‘Are you happy to get up at five in the morning in freezing mid-winter to make sure that you got your mash right or your ferment? Did you go through and make every tasting? Did you smell every cask? We’re chasing this experience that has to be incredible. Someone might pick up that bottle and take it to a funeral of a loved one, or they’ll have it on their wedding day.”

Drinking for the Moment

As it happens, neither Chris nor I find ourselves in need of a funeral or wedding dram, but on this dreary Wednesday afternoon in Sydney, the philosophy still rings true. Irrespective of time or place, every bead of sweat and every frozen morning has, over many years, led to this point.

For Chris, it’s a moment of reflection and acknowledgment that Lark’s future isn’t set in stone, but for me, it’s something more transcendent. It’s as if I’m only just now realising that experiences aren’t elevated by sensory embellishments, but rather the other way around. 

So, if whisky, and by association Lark, is designed for moments, then this is one I’d like to remember. Perhaps it is in the intangibles, after all.