The Star's critic MARIA DUARTE recommends an impressive impersonation of Bob Dylan
Far flung
JAMES WALSH happily maroons himself at possibly the most-difficult-to-get-to festival in Britain
The Star's critic MARIA DUARTE reviews Here, Vermiglio, William Tell and Wolf Man
New releases from Thorpe and Morrison, Daria Kulesh, and Will Finn and Rosie Calvert
RINA ARYA confronts the brutal operation of Francis Bacon’s approach to portraiture
Emphasising his continuous engagement in labour movement struggles, ALISTAIR FINDLAY salutes John Foster’s contribution as activist, strategist, intellectual and defender of the Morning Star
ANDY MIAH advocates the use of AI to assist people by expanding access to global literature and culture
EWAN KOTZ relishes a veteran Glasgow band that have lost none of their verve for live performance
Howlin’ Fling festival
The Isle of Eigg
FROM the ferry, Eigg comes into focus slowly, gradually. It’s a shimmering thing, dominated by the rocky outcrop An Sgurr. It barely looks real, but it is a basalt bastion of optimism: a community-owned Scottish island, the last landlord bought out by the people 26 years ago.
One of the hundred or so living on the island today is Johnny Lynch, or (as his wheelie bins proclaim) Pictish Trail.
Johnny runs Lost Map records, purveyors of a dizzying roster of folk, electronica, and genre-bending experimentation; a miraculously sunny weekend in August marks their Howlin’ Fling, the best, and possibly the most-difficult-to-get-to festival in Britain.
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