I don’t like to fall into the “New Year, New You” cliche but a number of things I’ve been involved with have come to a natural end and I’ve found myself reflecting on what they meant. In doing so, and the fruits of those reflections will hopefully emerge elsewhere, I thought a lot about what I do and why. And part of that was a desire to revisit zines.
As I often say when talking about my work, I did zines in the 1990s, publishing my own but also reviewing and distributing other people’s. This experience laid the foundation for all that I know about personal media and distributed communities and I’ve written about it before.
Recently there’s been a bit of a zine revival around these parts with a whole new generation rediscovering the joy of the photocopied pamphlet and learning about the revolutions it enabled back in the 80s and 90s. I’ve enjoyed seeing this from both a nostalgic point of view and to see the aesthetic choices they’re making with the shifts in technology, but it also leaves me a little uneasy.
Back then we made zines because we had to. Sniffin’ Glue was born more of frustration with the mainstream music press not covering the punk scene than a reaction to it (though the latter was certainly there). You published because it was the only way you could connect and share experiences with other people like you. It’s no wonder the Internet killed the zine scene – it solved the problem perfectly in one fell swoop.
The problem is zines weren’t just essential. They were cool. They had an edgy, insider, ahead of the curve feel about them. If you liked a band that was only being covered in zines that made you cooler than the people who just read the NME. People would reject zines that were made with computers because typewriters were more authentic, handwritten even better. Desktop Publishing was just wrong.
And so when the essentiality of zines vanished with the Internet all that was left was the cool aesthetic. Oh, and the people who used to important in the old days bemoaning how the Internet isn’t as authentic as a few pieces of paper with toner burnt on them.
Don’t get me wrong, I love those people and I love what they do. I just think something important has been missed, and that’s what I want to explore this year with ZinePete.
This project is going to have a number of facets.
I’m going to be publishing things. I’m going to call them “zines” but they probably won’t be photocopied pamphlets. I’ll mostly be using print-on-demand services like MagCloud and Lulu to get my stuff out there because it’s easier that way. I will probably break out the long-armed stapler and make some publications myself and I’m very intrigued by what Kathryn does with her binding, but it won’t be the primary method. The main thing is I’ll be putting out a lot of bound objects this year.
I’m going to be collecting things. I’ve been thinking a lot about zines and weblogs as receptacles for stuff, be they thoughts, ideas, links, pictures, reviews, whatever. I want to think about that a lot more. Collecting will mostly be done photographically to begin with but it’ll probably get more physical (I’ve been collecting found bits of metal from the streets of Digbeth this last year, for example.)
I’m going to be reminiscing. I have a 20 year history of dicking about with zines and blogs. It’s about time I wrote some of it down properly and figure out what it meant.
I’m going to do some manifesto-ing. One of the things I wrote down in my notes was “reclaiming zines from the retro-zombies”. With the caveat that I am a bit of a retro-zombie and it’s nothing personal, this is the big point of this project. I think zines are important and can teach us things about personal media. In order to do that we need to uncouple them from the nostalgia that surrounds them.
I’m going to be doing a lot of thinking about my practice. This is not just about making some neat zines, or about figuring out what zines mean in 2011. It’s about what I am and what I do. I glibly declared myself to be an Artist last year because I realised you don’t need permission to do so – you just can’t expect people to take you seriously. But in doing so I’ve been forced to think about why I do the things I do, be they take photos, blog, open shops… Zines and zine-esque blogs have been the continuity in my life so by understanding them should help me understand what I do and why I do it.
Of course, the best laid plans never come to fruition and it’s all about the journey, not the destination. I fully intend to do all of the above but if something else crops up and I have to apply my brain to something other than zines then that’s no biggy. It’s just a framework, after all. A receptacle for thoughts. Kinda like a zine, really.