All Circles Vanish in Melbourne

December 14, 2011

Just a quick heads up that the video Anwyn and me made at the beginning of the year called All Circles Vanish is screening in the foyer of the City Library, Melbourne, until the 22nd of December. More details on their website. If you are in Melbourne, you can go and look at it. Won’t that be fun!

Also, on the 10th and 12th of January I will be hosting zine workshops in Blacktown City libraries, the first at Stanhope Gardens and the second at Mt Druitt. Here’s their website with more details. Vanessa Berry will also be hosting a final workshop on the 18th of January at Max Webber library, Blacktown. (Thanks again Vanessa!)

While I’m at it, someone has written a post on the National Library’s ephemera collection blog about the project Anwyn and me coordinated way back in the mid 00s, Post No Bills. It is good and has good pictures of the PNB Fun Pack, which is very good, because I am ungood at documenting my own work. I’m shit at it, in fact.

So, I know you’re all dying to know why I haven’t posted here in a while, right. Well actually, I spend my whole day posting. Posting other peoples’ mail. That’s right, I got a job at the post office. I’M IN CHARGE OF THE POST. It’s feels as though I have fulfilled some sort of destiny, the culmination of years spent in retail finally merges with years of sending people crap in the mail. Today I was inducted into the Code of Ethics guidelines for the use of social media which states the importance of never saying a bad word against your employer on social media sites like Twitter, Facebook, blogs. Would I ever complain about my job? When have I ever done that…

STAY TUNED.

Horror in the museum…

August 16, 2011

Well, zines in the museum, really. Take Care have been invited to host a zine workshop at the Australian Museum’s Jurassic Lounge. Basically, the Jurassic Lounge is a marketing ploy to get young, hip folk to go to the museum at night-time while various events catered to young, hip folk go on around them. The kind of thing, in other words, that would normally have me run screaming into the night. I’m a youngish, unhip person who enjoys going to museums anyway and doesn’t need to be lured to them with the promise of drinks included in the ticket price and an opportunity to hang out under laser lights with people my own age. Normally when I go to the Australian museum I’m the oldest person there who is not accompanying a child. My favourite displays are the crystals, then the dinosaurs. Anyway, as I say, every instinct in me said that doing a zine workshop at the Jurassic Lounge would not be cool. It was obviously part of an increasing wave of events put on by big public (and sometimes corporate) institutions that see zines as a way to get more people of a certain age through their doors. I’m not of the opinion that this does much for the zine community, or the quality of zines that get made. But a few things made me decide that it was a good thing to do: 1) if big institutions are going to put on zine events anyway, it’s probably good if people who have some investment in the zine community are involved so that an alternative image of zines is presented, i.e., people don’t necessarily have to come away with a Frankie magazine idea of what a zine is. 2)  the workshops are being coordinated by Clare, who, aside from being a nice person, works for the Bower Re-use and Repair centre at the Addison Road Community Centre, which is a worthy initiative.  Clare has recently started a project of collecting and cataloguing DIY and eco themed zines to include in the Bower’s (relatively new) library, which is a pretty awesome space, and I highly recommend that you check it out next time you’re in Marrickville. 3) we thought it was a good opportunity to wrangle people into making tiny zines for the Snapdragon Zine Pinata, and 4) we went to one of the workshops to say hi to Clare and it was set up in a reconstruction of a cave. A CAVE. That won us over. We like caves.

So, tedious justifications aside, there you go. We’ll be at the Jurassic Lounge on the 23rd of August from 5:30, so if you’ve been thinking about heading to the museum, that would be a good time to go. More details here.

I still think a critique of zine events happening in big state and corporate institutions would be worth writing. But could I be bothered? I think, rather than that, I would rather do things like organise the Snapdragon Fair, and  hopefully, given time, the number of events organised from within the dark depths of the zine community will out-weigh those organised by people who see zines as a way of fulfilling their youth services quota or something… (am I too cynical?)

 

Photocopier art

July 25, 2011

I moved house recently so everything’s been a big shambles, but I’ve finally had a chance to make some pictures to send out to zine subscribers (look here, scroll down). Below are some scans of the pictures. They were all composed in-photocopier from black and white originals, relying as much on chance as deliberate compositional decisions. Each colour is a different layer. I’ll be using these as masters to make some (photocopied) prints on acid free, light-weight card stock. If you’d like one you must subscribe! If you have already subscribed, thank you! You’ll get one of these in the post soon…

This one’s about A4 size, eight separate photocopies on one piece of paper, only jammed the copier once…

This one’s four layers, about A5 size. First I did a yellow background, then copied the crystal twice, first in cyan then magenta, which made green and red. Because I was lining everything up by eye it’s slighty off register, so I actually unintentionally made a 3D image. But then I did a negative copy in blue over the top and ruined it. Oh well.

I think this is my favourite, it reminds me of the cover of ‘The Future Crayon’ by Broadcast. It’s also approx A4, but slightly smaller than the first one. Again, it’s four layers: black, cyan, magenta, yellow.

The images of crysals all come from various encyclopedias and look and learn books I’ve collected over the years. The bigger project I’m working on at the moment (and which the harmonograph that I mentioned in an earlier post is part of) is based on a book Anwyn gave me that was at her mum’s place about exploring caves – ‘The Marvellous World Beneath Our Feet’, I think it was called. So I started sifting through my books for images of crystals and and geological formations, and have been working on some paintings and collages, hopefully to be exhibited somewhere this year, if anyone will have me, sob.

Anwyn also alerted me to this rather amazing place in New York, the Reanimation Library! A home for unwanted books. It was rather uncanny to hear about it, because Tim and I are doing a work at this year’s National Young Writer’s Festival with books that have been ‘weeded’ (that’s the technical term) from public and university libraries, or  that otherwise fall out of circulation, or are deemed unuseful, unproductive. Of course, the Reanimation Library is much better than our project is ging to be, but if you’re planning on heading to the NYWF this year, you should keep your eyes peeled for paste ups and walls that have been papered with the pages of books.

Speaking of libararies, Vanessa’s excellent new project, Biblioburbia, is to visit Sydney libraries, check it out.

Snapdragon Zine Fair

June 27, 2011

Yep, Vanessa, Tim (of Take Care) and I are organising a zine fair. It will be at the Red Rattler on the 4th of September and it’s going to be brilliant.  We’re doing a call out for stall-holders. In fact, the official deadline for booking stalls has nearly expired, so let us know quickly if you want in: everything you need to know should be here, or email snapdragonzinefair@gmail.com. I’m sure there will be a few days grace for booking stalls. In fact, since I’m one of the organisers, I’m positive there will be, but hurry up anyway, because we need to confirm how many tables to hire. Why is it called Snapdragon? Because it needed a name, and every other zine pun has been used already. But it does mean that we can incorporate DRAGONS into all our advertising! Here’s a flyer that Simon and Vanessa made, featuring a rather excellent dragon made entirely from stationery:

And a not so cool one made by yours truly, featuring such boring details as the address and everything:

For the day we’ll be constructing what we believe will be (I’d be pretty stunned if someone’s already done it, actually) the world’s first ever zine pinata (or zinata). And it needs filling. ZINE filling! Zines for the pinata can be about anything, but have to be A8 size. For inhabitants of countries that do not employ the incredibly useful, international standard, ISO 216  ‘A’ series paper size which maintains the same aspect ratio no matter how many times it is divided, A8 is approximatly equivelent to 1/16 US letter size. I think. How much easier your folding would be if your countries adopted the incredibly useful etc ISO 216 ‘A’ series paper size. I’m sure you are envious. So, anyway, get in touch if you’re interested in contributing a tiny zine to the zine pinata. We haven’t figured out the logistics of this yet (or what shape the pinata will be. Dragon? Stapler? Staplerdragon?), but we will start making a list of interested persons and let you know the details in due course. Vanessa, who is much better at coming up with puns than me, has been assuring people that it will be smashing. Indeed.

We’re also hoping to have a table for Absent Zinesters at the fair. If you’re unable to make it but want us to sell zines on your behalf, again, get in touch so that we can gauge interest and figure out logistics.

So, look forward to September, zine-heads…

You can read all about ISO 216 here, incidentally. Fascinating stuff…

Buy my zines, make me rich

May 17, 2011

I’ve just finished updating the ‘zines’ page on the home page so that you can now buy my old zines in bulk for a discounted price and subscibe to any zines I make in the future. I calculated that if just 25 people take up a $12 $10, 1 year subscription I will not only be able to photocopy many more zines and make them available in more places but I can also buy materials to commence work on a giant harmonograph, my latest fantasy project of the hair-brained and complicated variety. You know you wouldn’t want to deprive the world of that… I have also created a ‘projects’ page, as proof that when I say I’m going to undertake a hair-brained and complicated project, like build a life size model space capsule out of cardboard and plywood, or do paste-ups on the windiest day of the year, or make a stop motion animation with no prior experience in stop motion animation, I mean it.

Non-work

May 12, 2011

The idea of non-spaces or in-between spaces is one that seems to crop up a lot. I seem to come across it regularly without looking for it. Most recently I found it in a book called ‘Non-Stop Inertia’ by Ivor Southwood, which I started reading yesterday and finished today. It’s about post-Fordist work and ‘non-work’ conditions: the casualisation of labour, the transformation of unemployment into its own kind of work category, where you can even be fired from the dole (which, of course, isn’t called the dole anymore), and the general precariousness – or precarity – of contemporary work/life. It’s an interesting book, especially because its author is in the position of having to work – live – in the type of poisonous conditions he describes, which gives the writing an open, sort of zine like quality, a grounding in the everyday. Southwood mentions this in the introduction – you don’t read with the bitter knowledge that the author is just participating in some experiment in being broke for the purpose of researching a book or article, later to return to ‘normal’ life: this is normal life. I appreciated it, because I am on the dole at the moment, trapped in exactly the same bipolar frenzy of job-seeking and thumb-twiddling that the book describes. Feeling guilty whenever I am not ‘being productive’ – working, whether in paid employment or on my own projects, or looking for a job or writing exhibition proposals – feeling wound tight and unable to let myself enjoy any sense of leisure because there is nothing to demarcate leisure from work anymore. Feeling like I must always be accruing worth, simultaneously feeling worthless. Feeling depressed, despondent.

On the train home from the MCA where I paid for our booking for the zine fair next week I got stuck in a carriage of school boys whose caps read ‘CBHS’ – Canterbury Boys? Croyden Boys? Wherever they were from, one boy had an encyclopaedic knowledge of the Canterbury Bulldogs, and recited all of the grand finals they have ever won to the back of his bored teacher’s head. ‘That’s very interesting’, the teacher said, sarcastically, but the boy didn’t gauge the sarcasm, or didn’t care. He was simply too pleased with his Canterbury fandom to give a damn whether anyone else thought it was important. When he’d finished reciting the list of Canterbury’s grand finals, he started on the names of the teams that they had beaten in those grand finals. I tried to admire his propensity for retaining this highly useless information, and hoped to myself that memorising football results was pushing the neo-liberal school curricula out of his brain, and tried to will the kid to pursue a life of specialised interests and pointless facts that cannot be quantified or serve any purpose in a job interview, and not to let himself feel like he’s being screwed into the dirt by the heel of shitty social consensus, but I couldn’t. Actually, the sound of his voice got on my nerves, and I had to try very hard not to turn around and tell him to shut up.

The teacher was about the same age as me, give or take a couple of years, and had that vague 30ish look – confidence, sadness and resignation. ‘At least you have a job’, I thought, dissecting this for its wrong-headedness even as it formed in my mind. ‘Look at you,’ he might just as easily have been thinking, ‘on a train in the middle of the day, no obligations, no responsibilities – all you have to do is successfully defraud Centrelink, which is, frankly, quite easy, then you’ve got all the time in the world on your hands. You don’t know how to use freedom.’

If only it were as easy as that. And I’m not even the kind of person to think you need heaps of money to get by – I’m DIY, man, anarcho-punk and all the rest of it. But even with these handy critiques of work, productivity, capitalism and the rest of it, I’m not immune.

But anyway, back to my original point –non-places. I partially grew up in a non-place, and I’m going to write a zine about it, because Tim just took a lot of really great photos of the area in question, and I want to do a split zine with him. So, I figure if I write this here it might motivate me to get it done by the MCA zine fair on the 22nd of  May.

Oh…

April 26, 2011

RIP

Tomorrow’s Machine Today #2

April 23, 2011

A couple of posts ago I mentioned turning a thing I wrote about HP Lovecraft, The Fall and Rudimentary Peni into a zine. Well, I did it! Except that I edited out the Rudimentary Peni bit to enhance readability. And to save material for another zine, which I am still working on.

Tomorrow’s Machine Today is about music I’ve been introduced to through mix tapes, CDs and the like. You can buy the first two issues (#1 is much smaller than #2)  here at my Etsy shop, and copies of #2 will shortly be available through Take Care. Or send a trade to PO Box 4, Enmore NSW 2042, Australia.

I also did a bit of an epic zine re-printing session yesterday, here be a very noisy shot the fruits of my labour:

Had lots of yellow paper lying around the house, as you no doubt gather. So that’s fresh copies of Digging and Nearly Healthy, which I was nearly out of, and more copies of Horace Andy and the Spanish Owls and Fairytales in the Supermarket, which have been out of print for a while. Horace Andy is a collaborative thing I did with Anwyn about ghosts, trains, horses and Horace Andy; Fairytales is my ranty, alphabetical ode to working in retail for ten years, written two years ago when I quit work to go back to school. They’ll be up on the Take Care site soon, and Etsy, of course. Or, again, write if you’d like to trade or otherwise negotiate copies.

Fanzines by Teal Triggs, or, Old News

March 22, 2011

I think I’ve already noted here that I’m rarely, if ever, on the ball. I live in a daydream most of the time, which is alright to the extent that I’m rarely bored with my own company, but it can lead to trouble. Yesterday, for instance, I left a folder containing nearly all of the work (collages and collage materials, zine masters and so on) I have completed over the last two years (while studying a Master of Fine Arts) on a bus, and only realised about two hours ago. Needless to say, I nearly died on the spot, but it’s amazing what panic does for your memory. I went from not even remembering having been on a bus yesterday to plotting that day’s movements and conversations to the minute, thus arriving at the conclusion that the only place I could have left my work was the 11:50 inward bound 440, and that the precious folder, if it was anywhere, would be at the Leichhardt bus depot. Which, fortunately, it was.

It’s not surprising then that back in August when the zine world was discussing the ins and outs of Teal Trigg’s book Fanzines, I had spied the book in the window of a certain yuppie designer book/gift shop on King St, Newtown, and smugly thought to myself that, being in said shop, it would be of little interest to me, and promptly forgot about it. Turns out of course that one of my zines is in it, a fact that the author rather dubiously failed to convey to me.

So, in researching (googling) the book I came across this discussion on We Make zines, which pretty much sums up all of the arguments, for and against. To sum up even more succinctly my own views on the matter I can borrow the words uttered by someone at the recent ANG zine fair in Canberra: Triggs fucked up. She only asked a few people for permission to use their stuff before the book was actually published and she rather tardily informed a few other people of their inclusion in the book after it had already gone to print. But it seems that a lot of people, including me, were not contacted at all. The general consensus seems to be that people don’t necessarily object to having their zines published or reprinted, but that it was pretty bad form of Triggs not to get permission first, and that not doing so has led to the inclusion of a lot of factual errors in the book, which people are understandably upset about (my own zine, By The Time You’re Twenty-Five, is a rather trivial example of one such error: it’s described as a ‘music zine’, but ‘perzine’ would be more accurate. The book is full of lazy little errors like this, but there are quite a lot more serious ones, too). When I emailed Triggs to ask why she hadn’t contacted me, I was fobbed off with some line about ‘not having my details at the time’. She even threw in a story about a neglectful assistant who was responsible for contacting me but didn’t, to which I say: bollocks. My address is in the zine, and Triggs even linked to the Take Care site on her blog, so she obviously had some inkling of who I am and how my details might be summoned out of the internet ether. It’s a shame, because as others have also pointed out, and even though my initial reaction at seeing a coffee table book about zines was to scoff, on finally receiving my free ‘contributors’ copy I actually do think it’s an attractive book. Of course, it had the potential to be so much better, if only Triggs had gone about it properly. But if you can ignore the more or less trite and occasionally plain incorrect essays, and the clumsy system of categorisation Triggs employs, apparently for the sake of creating seamless chapters (in which the Zine World blog is described as an e-zine, and nearly all post ’90s zines are lumped in with the ‘crafting’ phenomenon, a ‘phenomenon’ I generally feel about as much enthusiasm for as the idea of stabbing myself in the eye with a crochet hook) it does feature a lot of zines (or zine covers at least) from the ’70s in particular that I was very excited to see…

(The above was written last November, before my friend Ned passed away and things – like the goings on of the zines community – which now tend to strike me as infinitely insignificant, seemed rather more important. But I am aware that my current lack of interest in things that other people seem to care about is a consequence of grief, so I thought I would go ahead and publish this, primarily to draw your attention to the recent Nobody Cares About Your Stupid Zine Podcast in which various zine luminaries discuss the various problems they have with the book, problems I basically concur with but haven’t had the energy to voice, and am therefore thankful that they, and others, have. There is also the anonymously edited fanzinesbytealtriggs.weebly.com, which heroically aims to document all of the errors that appear in the book and to give proper credit where it is due, something which Triggs and her publisher have so far refused to do. It also includes all the contact details for Triggs and said publisher, whom you can write to and request a free copy of the book if your zine appears in it. A complete list of the zines is on the site.)

Ground: music and familiar space in visual art

March 17, 2011

…be the name of an upcoming exhibition in Melbourne at the Brunswick Arts Space. I wish I could transport myself to Melbourne to see it, because it will undoubtably be excellent, featuring two artists whose work I admire very much, Luke You and John Stevens, and a bunch of people I’ve never heard of but must be good to keep such company: Carmen Reid & Emma Waters, T.A.L.L, Simon Lawler, Riki-Metisse Marlow, Alister Karl, Androniki Douramakos and Peter Davison (not the Peter Davison, who played the 5th Doctor and Tristan in All Creatures Great and Small?! No, probably not, but probably still worth seeing). The flyer, front and back:


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