Jeremy Beaudry / projects and texts

Thinking About Zines

Posted on July 29, 2007 in musings, of interest, peripherals

Every 6 months or so, a wonderful thing arrives at our house unexpectedly from Spain. It’s a zine (perzine, to be precise) called Extranjero and it’s made by two smart, dear friends, Kris and Lola. Kris, a self-described “Yank” ex-pat and Bucks County native, is the husband of Lola, a bonafide “Yurd” (Spaniard, get it?), and they live in the region of Extremadura in Western Spain. Their zine (numero seis pictured below) is a hilarious and informative snapshot of life in Spain—part quotidian journal, part “official” history (presented a bit tongue-in-cheek), part linguistic romp, and entirely vernacular. As with most zines, several pages are devoted to readers’ letters as well, many of whom also publish zines. To read one zine is to enter into a vast network of underground publishers.

So how about an excerpt. Here, Kris is in the middle of recounting a trip to a nearby village of Garrovillas for a festival, which for the Spaniards means a day of stuffing one’s face and sucking back wine:

By the time we reached the square the rain had subsided but that icy wind was blowing full force, making being out of doors extremely uncomfortable. We found a scruffy bar & continued with the liver damage. The bartender had a massive supply of “pitarra” on hand in badly corked old whiskey bottles. There was a calendar on the wall next to the cash register of a blonde bombshell in a bikini, the top half of which she seemed to have misplaced somewhere on the way to the photo shoot.

Our friend Bego leaned over & she whispered in my ear, “Es la virgen del pueblo.” (“She’s the town virgin.”)

A loud cackle escaped my mouth & suddenly there was quite a commotion at the far end of the bar. A young guy, couldn’t have been more than 15 or 16 years old, had burst into song. He was trying his hand at a bit of flamenco. His girlfriend watched him with eyes full of admiration as one of his buddies clapped out the beat & occasionally stomped his feet. Customers added passionate “Olés” here & there at appropriate moments. Lola turned to me, “This is the kind of thing you Yanks pay tour guides hundreds of dollars to see!”

“Yep.” It was quite an “authentic moment.” Another one down the hatch.

An old man with an unlit stub of a cigar in his mouth coughed up an enormous wad of phlegm right there in the middle of the bar. Nobody blinked. I swear, if you hadn’t actually witnessed the old fella in the act & just happened to look down you’d wonder who the hell dropped a raw egg on the floor.

“To village life!” Another round down the hatch.

Bueno, bueno. Anyone interested in acquiring a copy of Extranjero (recommended!) should send a few bucks or a zine for trade to:
Kris & Lola
Calle Obispo 4 bajo
Plasencia 10600
Cáceres
Spain/España

Usually coinciding with receiving Kris and Lola’s zine, my interest in the world(s) of zines is renewed and I make vague plans to produce a zine. My first introduction to zines came in high school through friends, which led to my own short-lived production of a couple of zines: a micro-format skate zine called Zine X (horrible title) and then an arts and literature zine, the name of which escapes me (some day I’ll dig these up…). A long time ago John Freeborn and others published a skate zine called Media Locals, which chronicled the exploits-with-skateboards of our small suburban Philly crew. John continues to be a prolific zine publisher and has also created a fine online archive/network at zinebox.org. Another high school chum, Jeff Wiesner, published several issues of Double Negative, a high-quality zine of visual and literary arts.

The political implications of a vibrant underground press are as relevant now as they were when Martin Luther published and disseminated his 95 Theses in the 16th century that resulted in the poitical-theological coup that was the Reformation. The broadsheets, newsletters, independent newspapers and zines of radicals, activists, artists, amateurs, connoisseurs, fans, and misfits have transmitted “improper,” under-acknowledged information, initiated sub-cultural networks, and undermined hegemonic culture and authority (and not without retaliation to be sure). In spite of (or because of) the aestheticization and commodification of DIY culture by Madison Avenue, zine publishers continue apace, eking out autonomous spaces for their interests, causes, ideas, and artworks and fostering the spirit of generosity and openness that really does seem to characterize the zine world(s).

An obvious connection exists between zines and blogs/web sites in terms of self-publishing, yet for all the immediacy and potential readership of a blog, a zine always asserts that pesky quality of tactility and objecthood—the flip of pages, the texture of papers, the unexpected folded insert, the type- or hand-written text. The finiteness and digestibility of cover-to-cover, as opposed to the unlimitless expanse of everything-all-at-once. It’s difficult to say whether such tactile tendencies are borne of nostalgia or neurologically programmed (maybe a mixture), but the attraction is real nonetheless. And as there seems to be a general, if fractional, shutting down of the Internet’s glorious openness, one wonders if ISPs and governments will further collaborate to monitor the Net and place political, economical, and moral restrictions on our ability to use the Internet freely for self-publishing. In this possible future the hand-to-hand transmission of zines may have renewed urgency and significance.

Summer Snippets…

Posted on July 1, 2007 in of interest

Empire of the Sun, J.G. Ballard:

Jim watched Mr. Maxted sink back among the exhausted prisoners. He had made his last effort to sit upright, trying to convince Jim that all was well, that the good luck and the skill of some unknown American bomb aimer, which had saved them from being shipped aboard the collier, would continue to watch over them.

“Mr. Maxted, do you want the war to end? It must end soon.”

“It has almost ended. Think about your mother and father, Jim. The war has ended.”

“But Mr. Maxted, when will the next one begin…?”

Baudolino, Umberto Eco:

“Which is the most fierce of animals?” the Poet asked then.

“Man.”

“Why?”

“Ask yourself. You, too, are a wild beast, you have with you other beasts, and in your lust for power you want to deprive all other beasts of life.”

Then the Poet said: “But if all were like you, the sea would never be sailed, the earth would never be tilled, the great kingdoms would not be born to carry order and greatness into the base disorder of earthly things.”

The old man replied: “Each of these things is surely fortunate, but it is built on the misfortune of others, and that we do not desire.”

To Launch a Ship

Posted on February 28, 2007 in of interest

Mrs. R. McGregor, sponsor, USS Mercer, 1918. Federal Shipbuilding Company, Kearny, New Jersey.

Recently, while at Philadelphia’s Independence Seaport Museum for a riverfront planning symposium, I discovered, tucked away in a vitrine, a modest exhibit of photographs of women and girls launching ships from near the turn of the 20th century. Very odd and very striking is the fierce contrast between the primly conservative figures and the industrial bulk of the ships: lace and steel, tresses of hair and rivets of metal, petite features and monumental hulls. And what is the nature of this strange blessing, this smashing a bottle of alcohol (usually champagne) against the ship? Have a look at the many photos posted to the online exhibit.

Unidentified sponsor, SS Gulfoil, August 29, 1912. New York Shipbuilding Corporation, Camden, New Jersey.

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