Archive for the ‘Old School’ Category

A Foreword for Ernie

(Another post along the lines of my remembrance of Mel. This one appeared as a foreword for Ernest Schwiebert’s two-volume, Nymphs project. If you don’t know much about Ernie, I’d encourage you to read some of his works—both technical and storytelling.) Before Ernie passed away in late 2005 (has it really been that long?), my father and [...]

A River Runs 15 Years (with Suckers!)

In 2007, I wrote a brief piece looking back at the production of A River Runs Through It (watch It on-line). It was the 15th anniversary of the film’s release and I guess I was feeling a bit nostalgic. Anyway, the Trout Underground linked to it, and a bunch of traffic flowed to my (then) [...]

“The Way of a Trout”

As a kid, I had many fly-fishing opportunities afforded to me as a result of my father’s work in the industry. One of those opportunities was to travel with him across the country as he taught in the long-ago-disbanded Fenwick Fly Fishing Schools. Those schools were a strong part of my formative fly-fishing education, as [...]

Homer & Demarest

This time last spring, I spent a day in Chicago with my wife, Kelley, taking in the Homer & Hopper dual exhibit at the Art Institute. The Homer exhibit encompassed a significant piece of museum real estate, and had a sizable number of his “Adirondacks” and “Tropics” period paintings. And while his angling works were [...]

Now Playing: A River Runs Through It

(Update: Crackle is allowing embedding, so you can watch “the movie” right here at FF&W. Enjoy!) I got an e-mail this morning (referencing this post at Moldy Chum) saying that Sony’s Crackle.com site was offering the full version of A River Runs Through It free for the watching (via their Flash player). And so it appears [...]

25 (Well, 26) Years of “Nymphing”

2007 marked the 25th anniversary of the introduction of my father’s first instructional fly-fishing film, Nymphing. And I do mean film—16mm, shot with classic Bolex cameras. Looking back now, it is hard for me to believe that so many years have passed since those warm summer days on Montana’s famed Armstrong’s Spring Creek.