We've talked about Caught By The River a fair bit this year - it's one of the websites I find myself visiting most frequently.
Their book, a collection of words on water, was published earlier this year and is a joy. I've got a copy, but if I didn't, I'd be hoping for one for Christmas. Highly recommended for anyone with an interest in rivers or the great outdoors in general. You can purchase a copy direct online.

Posted by Simon Lewin on December 16th, 2009
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Our friends at Caught By The River will be taking part in the Durham Book Festival on Sunday 1st November 2009.
Sound recordist Chris Watson will present a unique soundscape and spoken word presentation of The River Coquet (a river I am desperate to walk & fish), Kathryn Williams reads 'The Ouse Burn', a magical piece of writing about what happens when rivers flood into your life. And author of 'The Accidental Angler', Charles Rangeley-Wilson reads from his written work and introduces a new short film about what makes our chalkstreams so unique.
Tickets for the event are £8 (£6 concessions) but there's a 2-for-1 offer available via the Caught By The River website.

Posted by Simon Lewin on October 23rd, 2009
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Caught most of a programme on Radio 4 this morning, presented by Terry Nutkins. I have memories of him presenting Animal Magic and the like.
I hadn't realised he had spent time working with Gavin Maxwell, best known for Ring Of Bright Water - a book about his love for otters and wildlife in general.
The programme was an intriguing and very personal profile of a clearly 'complex' man, but it left me feeling drawn back to the Highlands - but the almost cliff-hanger ending suggests that next week's episode will explore a slightly darker side to the story. This second episode will be broadcast on Friday 23rd October. You can listen to the first episode via the BBC website for the next few days.

Posted by Simon Lewin on October 16th, 2009
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In his first contribution to All Things Considered, Matthew Loukes reports on a recent visit to Pension Briol - a hotel we've been keen on visiting for some time...
It’s not hard to find representations where modernism and 20th century design are seen as being all about synthetic materials, science and hard surfaces. Concrete, glass and steel, allied to some vaguely expressed but sinister ideas of monochrome socialism and uniformity. ‘Egg boxes’, scoff the readers of mid-market newspapers, while stepping into their grey cars that are only distinguishable from one another by the badge on the front. A visit to Pension Briol; some four thousand feet up the rocks that separate (but hardly divide) Italy, Austria and Germany ought to put paid to that lazy notion. The building itself remains defiantly modern (even though it went up in 1928) but emphasises wood as much as stone, grass as much as concrete and looks far less out of place on the side of a mountain than something mock Tudor does beside our own unlovely A3 trunk road.
One can get close to Briol by road, from Innsbruck or Munich, by rail from Verona or, as we did, from the hilariously over-done yet impressive Milan train station – a place that would look ostentatious in Las Vegas. But whichever way you choose, you can only get close. The last lap is done on foot and takes an hour or more, or by jeep which is faster if on the hair-raising side of things tearing up roads made from mud and adrenalin. The first sight of the building is both dramatic and charmingly homely. A line of bright white washing flaps in front of a yellow and dark wood facade; both sitting in front of an alpine scene that would have Julie Andrews clearing her throat. As soon as we step out of the car, we’re grinning stupidly, eyeing the wooden terrace, the furniture and the paint on the window frames. I can tell this place is special because my partner nudges me in the ribs. “Look at those chairs!” (continues below)

Hubert Lanzinger designed pretty much everything about Pension Briol, from the cutlery and crockery (still in use today) to the furniture, which looks like the sort of stuff Marcel Breuer might have done when there was no tubular steel handy. The owners smiled indulgently while we took photos of light switches, door handles and window catches. Johanna, descendant of the original owner, and her wonderfully named husband , Urban, are pleased to find enthusiasts but this is a working hotel and there are guests to book in, towels to wash and chemotherapy-strength schnapps to hand out. I stand on the terrace with a buzz that’s part alcohol and part wonder. Behind me is a mountain range of great beauty and majesty. That’s all very well, but in front of me are a solid wood supporting column and a coffee pot that are breaking my heart.
In the rooms the theme of modernity allied to more or less natural materials continues. The beds are wooden and screech like turkeys when you sit on them (or do anything else). I find it hard to put down a backpack made from a by-product of the oil refining business. It just feels out of place. Part of me wishes I’d come with a leather suitcase, a hawthorn walking stick and socks made from goat’s wool. There aren’t any private bathrooms just a white tin jug and bowl for a quick splash. The shared facilities are the one part of the place that has been modernised and are beyond reproach. Sneaking a look into the other rooms on our floor (there are maybe five on each floor) the layouts are a little different but all the details are the same, from the bedside lamps to the designs on the shutters. Turns out that I don’t really mind homogeneity; as long as it meets my taste. (continues below)

Mealtimes at Briol revealed that although the place is nominally in Italy, this area of the South Tyrol is more German than anything else. The food is a combination of noodle and strudel that doffs a feathered cap towards Italy without ever letting the calorie content fall below the belt-busting. And since the deal is for full or half board everyone gets together for dinner when a cow-bell is rung and the people-watching can start in earnest. During the day there’s an outside pool that’s not infinity but a pretty long time nevertheless and a series of trails that range from an easy stroll to Air Ambulance material. Each of the tracks brings you across mountain meadows covered in wild flowers that make one realise that designers and artists will always have something to aim for. (continues below)

My expectation was that Pension Briol would attract an arty crowd. The severe spectacles, no hair and Moleskine notebooks brigade. But I was on my own. Mostly the guests were families with kids, dogs or both. The main feeling was of a slightly upmarket resort with an emphasis on healthy outdoor activity and heartiness. That’s not to say people ignored the surroundings; anyone that I asked agreed there was something very special going on. They just didn’t make a fuss about it. On my last day I chatted to a couple of older women from Germany who looked like Bohemians in retirement. They enthused about the design and the feeling of preserved history but also passed on the news that Lanzinger went on to do some work in the war era that he may have come to regret. Like Milan train station – and I guess many parts of Germany and Italy – there are reminders of a dreadful past amid things of great beauty. That’s true of Britain too, when one thinks of it a little more.
Pension Briol, Barbiano, Val d'Isarco, Italy. www.briol.it
Matthew Loukes is a London based Crime Writer. His novel ESTRELLA DAMN is available from the usual outlets. A new novel GOOSE FLESH comes out in mid November 2009. More information from www.soulbaypress.com
Posted by Matthew Loukes on October 15th, 2009
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A recent posting over at Caught By The River reminded me of a walk we took on the west coast of Scotland earlier in the year (snapshot below).
In this Tracks for Tracks: Ten Walking Songs post, guest selector Robert MacFarlane lists ten "Songs to keep you company. Songs to learn by heart. Songs to lend a beat to tired feet. Songs to yell from the top of a hill..."
Here's an extract about 'The Road To The Isles'...
"The song is a map, really, of the westwards way, from the Southern Highlands to the Western Isles. Its place-names guide the singer-walker westwards, its melody lures him and its rhythm sustains his progress. The song cites the locations that will bring the singer from Tummel in Perthshire to Stornoway in the Outer Hebrides, by way of Loch Rannoch, Lochaber, Shiel, Ailort, and Morar. Singing therefore becomes a means of navigation. In this way, ‘The Road To The Isles’ has a family resemblance to Aboriginal songline cycles, which describe the ‘dreamtracks’ left by the ‘Ancestors’ at the creation of the world. The route of these dreamtracks – and they can run for hundreds of miles – is preserved in the form of songs, in which each note or phrase corresponds to a landscape feature (a claypan or rock outcrop, say, or turn in a creekbed)." Read in full

Posted by Simon Lewin on September 23rd, 2009
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Earlier in the week my copies of 'Garden Wisdom' published by Merrell arrived. It's a gardening anthology compiled by Leslie Geddes-Brown which is illustrated by 20 of my prints.
The book was featured in The Guardian's gardening blog yesterday...
"Every now and again a gardening book drops onto my desk that makes me sit up and take notice: Garden Wisdom, compiled by Leslie Geddes-Brown, is one of those books.
Gardening anthologies are ten-a-penny these days: what sets this book apart, though, is Geddes-Brown's careful selection of extracts. Every single one is a gem, from Margery Fish on the joy of compost to Penelope Hobhouse on garden style. Angie Lewin's gorgeous bold prints make this feel like a different kind of gardening book; one you'll find yourself dipping into regularly."
And Gardens Illustrated have also just reviewed the book in their latest issue Read in full
Copies of the book can be ordered online via Amazon.

Posted by Angie Lewin on September 18th, 2009
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Our friends at Caught By The River have recently revamped their online fishing/music/literature/culture blog, created with an approach (in their own words) "like putting together a fanzine – an unshackled, uncynical torrent of enthusiasm".
And the new online store now features a range of Caught By The River goodies, including these tote bags and t-shirts.

Posted by Simon Lewin on August 19th, 2009
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Our friends from Caught By The River are currently packing their bags in preparation for a trip to the Port Eliot Festival in Cornwall where they're hosting a series of readings, gigs and DJ sets with performances from Will Hodgkinson, Kathryn Williams, British Sea Power, Chris Watson, King Creosote, The Heavenly Jukebox and many more.
The festival runs from the 24th-26th July and full details can be found on the Port Eliot Festival website.

Posted by Simon Lewin on July 23rd, 2009
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We spent Saturday night at the Southbank Centre enjoying an event organised by the team behind the Caught By The River website and book.
Several extracts were read from book, some accompanied by sound recordist Chris Watson.
Lots of thought provoking content, particularly the last piece - a reading by Michael McCarthy of his book 'Say Goodbye to the Cuckoo'. CBTR's Robin Turner summed up the event...
"As Michael read extracts from his book, slowly a picture unfolded of the UK at an environmental tipping point – one where migratory birds have stopped visiting our shore, where they no longer use them as breeding grounds.
You start to think about what the signifiers of the seasons are – birdsong, flowers budding, fruit and veg reaching maturity… and then you realize that these days, from the vantage point of behind a computer screen in a concrete and glass city centre, you don’t really have any idea of what’s going on past the end of the road anyway. I be surprised if any of us are really sure when spring smudged into summer or what’s seasonal to this country anymore – the supermarkets spreading out a bounty plundered from the four corners of the Earth (do we really need to source asparagus from Kenya? Shouldn’t we just eat it when it’s available here?). I walked away from McCarthy’s talk with a vision of a country suffering from a homogeny of seasons, where Britain’s local distinctiveness has been replaced by shelves stacked with foreign bodies and silences on our village greens and hedgerows. And that really scared me."
I must order a copy of the book. The cover is illustrated by Joe McLaren who we're hoping to work with at St. Jude's in the future.

Posted by Simon Lewin on July 16th, 2009
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It's been a real pleasure swapping mails and finally meeting the team behind Caught By The River. I was a relative newcomer to fishing - introduced by my father-in-law who fly-fished for England (not quite an Olympic sport yet...). I was running a record label at the time and I'll confess there were times when I felt it best to keep my new found passion quiet - the music/fishing connections I knew of weren't exactly the ones I felt an affinity with (Roger Daltry, Jethro Tull etc.). A bit of a guilty pleasure.
But then I remember sitting in a boat on Sutherland's Loch Hope, trying to catch sea trout. Chatting with the ghillie I asked if he'd has any interesting clients recently - and as it happened he'd had the owner of a much more established dance label (who we admired) fishing with him the week before.
As my success rate on river & loch improved I couldn't help but 'out' myself to those we worked with. That was a few years ago and I've been fishing ever since. This isn't the place to convince you of the many pleasures of fishing - it you get it, you get it.
But the last few months have been enriched by the content of Caught By The River which we've mentioned a few times here. I can't remember exactly how I stumbled across it originally but it's a site that triggers a daily visit. I've described it to friends as a fishing blog that's not really about fishing (a rather cowardly attempt, I know).
Continues below...

Created by the team Heavenly Records, the site is (as The Times puts it) "...a joy, a treasure trove of stories, obsessions, anecdotes and enthusiasm" and covers angling, music, literature and much more. And it's the enthusiasm that flows through the site that has spilled over into the world of 'proper' publishing, resulting in the recent launch of a collection of "words on water", published by Cassell Illustrated.
This isn't a book review - I'll be starting to read my copy anytime now - but it's beautifully produced and illustrated. A proper review will follow.
The Times have been featuring a number of extracts and their website includes some podcasts recorded by former Cabaret Voltaire member (and now acclaimed sound recordist) Chris Watson. Visit The Times website to listen to these and find our more about the book and the team behind it.
Posted by Simon Lewin on June 8th, 2009
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