Literary Agent, Simon Trewin tells us how the Bell House Print Room and Bindery is bringing endangered crafts back to life . . .
Walk down the old steps into the basement of Bell House – a splendid Georgian mansion in South London’s Dulwich Village, and you’re met not by silence but by rhythm — the clatter of type, the sticky crackle of ink, the soft thump of paper meeting platen. It’s a sound that once echoed through towns across Britain, when printing presses were as common as corner shops. Today, though, that sound has almost vanished.
Letterpress printing — the ancient analogue art of setting type by hand — is officially listed as endangered by the Heritage Crafts Association. Once it employed more than 200,000 people; now there are barely a hundred practitioners left in the UK, most of them hobbyists. Without help, the knowledge of how to operate and repair these beautiful old presses would soon be lost.
That’s why the news that the Bell House Print Room & Bindery, co-founded by me and graphic designer Tania Hurt-Newton, has received a major grant from The National Lottery Heritage Fund feels so significant. The funding will allow us to expand the Bell House Print Room & Bindery and create a new home for endangered crafts such as letterpress, etching and bookbinding — collectively known as The Bell House Heritage Crafts Studios. It will also, crucially, allow us to expand our community reach.
Bell House: Ink in its Veins
Bell House itself has ink in its veins. Built in 1767 for Thomas Wright, a Master of the Stationers’ Company, where I am now a Liveryman, and later Lord Mayor of London, it has always been connected to print and publishing. Today it’s a volunteer-led community hub with an astonishing organic garden, a thriving pottery, vibrant quilting and stitching groups, Rosie Bayliss – our inspirational artist-in-residence, vital classes for neurodivergent people and a busy programme of talks and workshops. The basement Print Room & Bindery has become one of its liveliest corners — and probably its inkiest.
My first encounter with traditional printing came long before I ever imagined I’d end up running a print room. As a schoolboy I spent a day at The Times newspaper, where my father, Ion Trewin, was Literary Editor. After an hour of watching books arrive and depart by the dozen, he took pity on me and led me downstairs to the print works. I can still picture the huge rolls of paper, the thunderous presses, and that unforgettable smell — hot metal, oil, ink and industry. At the end of the line, freshly folded pages glided down a conveyor belt like dancers taking a bow. It was mesmerising. That day I understood that printing wasn’t just about words; it was about rhythm, precision and people working in harmony.
Community
It was about community.
The new funding means we can do far more than keep the lights on. We’ll be able to restore and preserve our presses, train volunteers, create new teaching spaces and host a celebratory Wayzgoose — the traditional printers’ fair. Most importantly, it means we can welcome people who might never otherwise discover this world of type and ink: children, older adults, and anyone facing barriers to creative opportunity.
Because creativity isn’t just about making art — it’s about what happens to you when you do.
I’ve seen it time and again. Someone comes in convinced they don’t have a creative bone in their body. Within minutes they’re setting their name in metal type, eyes narrowed in concentration. Then comes that first pull of the press, and suddenly their face lights up. It’s the same look I’ve seen when a writer finishes a first draft — a mixture of disbelief and delight.
As a literary agent I’ve spent over thirty years helping writers find their voices. In the Print Room, I’ve realised the process isn’t so different. Setting type by hand is another form of storytelling — a way of making your mark and leaving proof that you were here.
We live in an age of pixels and instant everything. Printing slows you down. You can’t swipe a piece of type into place; you have to choose it, hold it, feel its weight. The imperfections — a light patch of ink, a faint impression — are part of the charm. They remind you that creativity is supposed to be human, not perfect.
Unlocking Creativity at Bell House
“Unlocking creativity” is an overused phrase, but here it’s literal. We’ve seen retired teachers, teenagers, refugees and artists all sitting around the same table, sharing rollers, jokes and cups of tea, producing something together that none of them could have done alone.
That’s what The National Lottery Heritage Fund is really supporting — not just machines and materials, but possibility. Thanks to players everywhere, we can preserve these skills and open them up to anyone who wants to learn.
One of my favourite recent visitors was a man in his seventies who arrived “just to watch.” Half an hour later he was at the press, grinning like a schoolboy. When he pulled his first print he said quietly, “I didn’t know I could still do something new.” That, to me, says everything.
The creative energy at Bell House isn’t confined to the basement. Upstairs, people are writing, talking, learning, sharing ideas. The connection between writing and printing feels completely natural — both are about turning thoughts into something you can touch. Whether it’s ink on paper or words on a page, the impulse is the same: to make meaning, to leave a trace.
We see this new phase not as preservation but continuation. The presses downstairs aren’t museum pieces; they’re instruments waiting to be played. Thanks to this grant, their song — and the creativity they inspire — will carry on for years to come.
We would love you to come and experience it for yourself when next in London. Please follow our Instagram feed @intheprintroom and send us a message rto printing@bellhouse.co.uk if you would like to visit.
(c) Simon Trewin
See here for more posts from Simon Trewin on Writing.ie.
About The National Lottery Heritage Fund
Our vision is for heritage to be valued, cared for and sustained for everyone, now and in the future. That’s why as the largest funder for the UK’s heritage we are dedicated to supporting projects that connect people and communities to heritage, as set out in our strategic plan, Heritage 2033. Heritage can be anything from the past that people value and want to pass on to future generations. We believe in the power of heritage to ignite the imagination, offer joy and inspiration, and to build pride in place and connection to the past.
Over the next 10 years, we aim to invest £3.6billion raised for good causes by National Lottery players to make a decisive difference for people, places and communities.
Follow @HeritageFundUK on Twitter/X, Facebook and Instagram
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