Directed by: Stephen Ashwell and Miriam van Ernst
Executive Producer: Adam Penny
Cinematography: Stephen Ashwell
Producer: Miriam van Ernst
In 2005, Connected Pictures made a ten-part documentary for the BBC about chef Oliver Rowe, setting up a restaurant in Kings Cross and sourcing all his food from within London. The series was a global success, showing around the world for many years after. Since then, the seasonal and local food landscape has exploded.
However, Oliver’s journey hasn’t been quite as smooth in 2018 he wrote a book called ‘A Food for All Seasons’ about his relationship with food.
Together with director Stephen Ashwell ,we made a film to talk about his journey to today and about the important role food has played throughout his life.
Buildings are getting tested for coronavirus, too. Research teams in Oregon are conducting real-time coronavirus tests on ventilation systems in buildings that could be essential for returning to the office or school.
We tested the hypothesis that apathy, but not depression, is associated with dementia in patients with SVD. We found that higher baseline apathy, as well as increasing apathy over time, were associated with an increased dementia risk. In contrast, neither baseline depression or change in depression was associated with dementia. The relationship between apathy and dementia remained after controlling for other well-established risk factors including age, education and cognition. Finally, adding apathy to models predicting dementia improved model fit. These results suggest that apathy may be a prodromal symptom of dementia in patients with SVD.
“Provence has a treasure; it’s a Colombe d’Or. It has the precious scent of thyme and nostalgia and the golden colour of olive oil and happy days. The Colombe is a part of my life. For me, it’s a place that’s as full of promise as of magnificent memories. The Colombe is indefinable, inimitable. I’m happy that today a book brings back the atmosphere of this place which is like no other in the world.”
The first lemur I ever met was a female, and she tried to bite me, which was fair, because I was trying to touch her, and humans have done nothing to recommend themselves to lemurs. She was an indri lemur, living in a wildlife sanctuary outside Antananarivo; she had an infant, which was riding not on her front, like a baby monkey, but on her back, like a miniature Lester Piggott. She had wide yellow eyes. William Burroughs, in his lemur-centric eco-surrealist novella Ghost of Chance, described the eyes of a lemur as ‘changing colour with shifts of the light: obsidian, emerald, ruby, opal, amethyst, diamond’. The stare of this indri resembled that of a young man at a nightclub who urgently wishes to tell you about his belief system, but her fur was the softest thing I have ever touched. I was a child, and the indri, which is the largest extant species of lemur, came up to my ribs when standing on her hind legs. She looked, as lemurs do, like a cross between a monkey, a cat, a rat and a human.
