Broken Social Zine

Broken Social Zine: self-publishing practice and the gentrification of zine culture

Cassandra Grant 41190106 2012 This thesis is submitted in partial fulfilment of the requirements for the degree of Bachelor of Media (Honours) at Macquarie University.

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abstract Zines as they have been historically created and zines as they are currently produced are two distinct artefacts; the differences reveal the ideological changes taking place within zine culture. Amateur zines reflect the do-it-yourself ethos of the creative underground, and whose imperfections assign the zine a level of authenticity. The rise of self-published art zines, which have been declared the second wave of publishing, are more likely to display technical proficiency and incorporate elements of formal art practice.

These recent developments force us to reconsider just what exactly constitutes zine practice. The heterogenous nature of zine culture should, theoretically, allow for the existence of both rough-and-ready DIY zines and the more refined art zines that now dominate zine circulation. But there are frictions between ‘bohemians and the bourgeoisie’ – not in the usual relationship between subculture and the mainstream, but within the zine community itself.

Professional, self-published zines reflect the social gentrification of zinemakers who bypass the underground and emerge from the ranks of a new creative class. While they are still zines in the strictest technical sense, I would argue these new zines should instead be given a new term. But if people continue to refer to them as zines, and if they come to dominate the perception of zines to the exclusion of all others, then we may be witness to the extinction of zines as we previously knew them. The politics of alternative culture have always been stubbornly underground, local and introspective; however, the gentrification of zines and zine culture calls for a reconfiguration of its politics on a global scale.

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acknowledgements Thank you to Peter Doyle for your supervision and helping me keep calm and carry on.

Thank you to my family for knowing exactly when to bring me the next cup of tea.

Ten thousand leagues of gratitude go to those who helped proofread and brainstorm and talk me out of my more terrible puns: Dave Abkiewicz, Syar S Alia, Chrissy Gee, Nathania Gilson, Katie Jameson, Melanie Papasavvas, and Alexander Tulett.

And to everyone who finds joy in their own little corner of zine culture: this is for you.

declaration I declare that this thesis is my own account of my research and contains as its main content work which has not previously been submitted for a degree at any tertiary educational institution.

Cassandra Grant 14 May 2012

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contents preface ...................................................................................................................................................................6 introduction....................................................................................................................................................9 definitions.............................................................................................................................................................13 history....................................................................................................................................................................14 literature ..............................................................................................................................................................15 methodology........................................................................................................................................................17

chapter one: ideology and identity ....................................................................................19 the politics of resistance..................................................................................................................................19 the politics of form ............................................................................................................................................20 the politics of representation ........................................................................................................................21 the consuming self.............................................................................................................................................22 the unnatural break .........................................................................................................................................22 shifting demographics .....................................................................................................................................24 from bohemian to bourgeoisie ..............................................................................................................26

chapter two: practice .........................................................................................................................28 content...................................................................................................................................................................30 form ........................................................................................................................................................................33 constructing a zine aesthetic..................................................................................................................34 innovations and adaptations ........................................................................................................................37 publishing as radical practice ................................................................................................................38 distribution ..........................................................................................................................................................40 uncoupling the physical from the local ..............................................................................................42 transformed social relations, communication, roles and responsibilities ....................................43 commodifying the zine..............................................................................................................................44 reinforcing the producer-consumer relationship..........................................................................44 inversions of ephemera............................................................................................................................45 archiving, access and deliberate limitation......................................................................................46

conclusion: the gentrification of zine culture ........................................... 49 selling out the underground..........................................................................................................................50 revisiting subculture..................................................................................................................................51 the commodification of indie culture..................................................................................................52 ghettoisation, gentrification, globalisation .............................................................................................53 the creative lifestyle...................................................................................................................................54 global flows....................................................................................................................................................55 deterritorialisation and new definitions ...........................................................................................56

appendix ...........................................................................................................................................................59 list of references ....................................................................................................................................63

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Twenty-volume folios will never make a revolution.

It’s the little pocket pamphlets that are to be feared. —Voltaire

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preface Until I began researching this thesis, I never realised just how largely zines figure in my life. I must have started making them in high school, poaching columns from magazines and writing about the intricacies of girl politics. I printed and hand-folded and shared these messy little magazines with my friends, because I felt confused about my identity, and conflicted by my comfortable suburban existence, and because in all the discussions aired in my liberal academic environment, I never found answers for the questions I didn’t know how to ask.

Making my own magazines gave me the space to let my teenage incoherencies shine. More importantly, they helped me realise I could do things for myself, by myself.

It wasn’t until I started university that someone put a name to my work. ‘This is a zine,’ a student activist said, holding up a scrappy pamphlet similar to mine. Knowing that I was part of a community gave my zine-making efforts purpose. Together we made our own student guides as an alternative to the uni’s glossy marketing brochures, and we handed them to students as they streamed out of lecture theatres. It was my first introduction to the politics of student media and the problems its absence had created on campus. We started a proper student paper, clashed with the uni administration, fought for editorial independence, and despite student protests we let it collapse and walked away. Then we returned to making zines, but our brush with The Man had left us wary of traditional methods and determined to do things our own way.

It’s a sentiment that has carried me through the years as I start taking a more self-conscious approach to making zines. They’re now a space in which I negotiate identity politics and the architecture of writing, tied by the complexities of technology. ‘This is a zine,’ I say, handing them to friends and strangers, and selling them at exhibitions and consignment stores. Rather than pursue a formalised writing career, I choose to make zines and encourage others to make their own. I could write for an online audience and reap the associated rewards. But I continue to make zines because of the control I retain, and because of the sheer satisfaction of holding the finished product in my hands. I make zines because I can.

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My history with zines is a story told in countless surveys of the forms of zine-making practice that, for convenience, we reduce to a unifying ‘zine culture’. Zines defy categorisation and this would account for much of their appeal; Anna Poletti believes the zine form remains fresh and constantly on the verge of discovery because it’s a new medium that shifts with the membership of the zine community.1 But I must admit my starting point for this thesis comes from a place of deep perplexity.

After a year abroad, I came home and found the zine landscape had changed. People at zine fairs weren’t just trading political manifestos, or personal stories, or the occasional colour comic with sketched artwork. They were spruiking professionally-printed publications with screen print illustrations, gocco covers and textured inserts. There were art zines crammed with design typography, and broadsheet colour papers imitating music street rags, and small gorgeously-printed photobooks bearing editorial mastheads, small press imprints and even a barcode. People were handing out business cards and holding launch parties and exhibitions, or carefully curating a coffee table zine collection for their at-home interviews with lifestyle online magazines. Zines were no longer a place for the rude stories you couldn’t print in the student paper; suddenly, zines were hip.

Zine Exhibition at 21st Century Museum of Contemporary Art, Kanazawa (photo: Nieves Books)

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Poletti (2006) p18 7

There’s been a definite change in zine-making practice, but I wouldn’t necessarily say it’s a bad thing. As a zinemaker, these new zines inspire a complicated mix of admiration and inarticulate frustration. I like them because they look good and I respect the time and effort that goes into their crafting, just as I would with a photocopied zine. But I’m more inclined to flip through the pages, marvelling at the technical skill, than read the actual stories. I can’t help feeling these new zines, for all their polished presentation, lack the rich history of DIY zines and their connection to a vibrant and creative underground.

This new distinction is an unexpected development. Zines carry a cultural cachet predicated on amateur production values and a defiant pride in its non-conformist status. But what was once underground becomes commercial and mainstream; this is a process that repeats itself countless times amongst other art forms, and was bound to occur with zines. What troubled me wasn’t the renewed interest as much as it was the sense that these new artefacts weren’t ‘ziney’ enough, that they were too glossy and clean and violated an unspoken zine-making principle.

Where are the staples? What happened to the handwritten notes? Why are you charging twenty dollars and why are you guys so unfriendly? More importantly, why am I convinced something has gone wrong with zine-making itself?

And so I set out to interrogate my gut instinct. Because the truth is I can’t pinpoint the exact moment zines stopped being new and exciting, and instead became unfamiliar and disconcerting. We’re not just seeing anarchist zines traded at rallies, or personal zines mailed through online distros, or music review e-zines transforming into blogs and websites. It’s not entirely the commodification of zines and the rise of a handmade indie culture, either. When zines begin to mimic the publishing methods they’re supposed to dismantle, they fundamentally change our perceptions of zine-making practice.

Professional, self-published zines are now depoliticised zines, reflecting the social gentrification of zinemakers who bypass the underground and emerge from the ranks of a new creative class.

While they are still zines in the strictest technical sense, I would argue these new zines should instead be described as small books, or alt magazines, or something entirely different. But if people continue to refer to them as zines, and if they come to dominate the perception of zines to the exclusion of all others, then we may witness the extinction of zines as we previously knew them. In the words of one zinemaker: ‘As an art form, zines are well and truly doomed.’2 And I’m convinced these new zines confirm it.

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Caravan in Poletti (2006) p34 8

introduction Just what exactly is a zine? Is it pronounced ‘zeen’ or ‘zyne’, is it a magazine or is it something altogether different? I find the best way to answer this question is to hand over a stack of zines and let people decide for themselves.3 Zines have been described as ‘little publications filled with rantings of high weirdness and exploding with chaotic design,’4 but also ‘a small handmade amateur publication done purely out of passion, rarely making money or breaking even.’5 More recently, zines have also been referred to as self-publishing projects that represent ideas ‘of 100 percent authorship, of undiluted output, and minimal editorial invasion that might smooth out deliberate edges in style of execution.’6 Given such broad parameters, we can accept that these are zines:

Nerf Jihad #9; Little Bird #1

A similar practice is encouraged by Stephen Duncombe (1996) p1 Triggs (2006) p69 5 Friedman in Lymn (2008) p10 6 Commentz (2011) p4 3 4

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Close-ups of Kankedort #0 (Photo: Miss Paquita/Flickr: obscurenoodles)

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And it can be argued that these are also zines:

Clockwise from top left: ACCEPT/REGRET (photo: Harvey Hartley); This is The Same Ocean (photo: Cassandra Grant); Higher Arc #1 (photo: Cassandra Grant)

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The subtle yet visible differences between the two zine styles demonstrate the frictions of a creative culture in constant renegotiation. Creators of the second type of zine have dismissed the former as ‘quirky, homegrown, often deliberately difficult fonts of counterculture [sic] that each had an audience of 100, maybe 200 tops.’7 Meanwhile, zinemakers of the first category have described the latter as ‘beautiful objects that exist that don’t merit 40 seconds of attention. They’re just gorgeous, that’s all they are. They’re fluff.’8 More tellingly, Sonja Commentz declares the emergence of a second wave of self-publishing: What we are witnessing is not necessarily the first generation of crude trailblazers, those dedicated to reclaiming the means of production and doing it on the cheap, but rather their more savvy acolytes and offspring, those who understand and exploit the power and potential of making your own decisions to further your creative end.9

Commentz argues second wave self-publishing is less orthodox than the ‘dogma-driven spearhead’ of previous zine cultures. These zines are not destined to survive a lifetime of aesthetic scrutiny, but to document a particular stage in time and state of mind.

This thesis explores the changes in ideology and practice that contribute to the gentrification of zine culture. Ianto Ware considers zine-making ‘a roughly held culture of literary production and consumption, rather than a set object of a specific style of writing.’10 While it can be argued a zine is ‘ultimately what you make of it,’11 there are still conventions that allow for a distinction between the categories and utilities of zines.

Lost and Found zine (photo: Helen Entwisle)

Labarre (2012) Mavreas in Trethewey (2012) para 7 9 Commentz p7 10 Ware in Lymn p11 11 Poletti in Campbell (2009) 7 8

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definitions Zines are immediately identifiable by their production methods: photocopied, folded and stapled, they rarely resemble professionally-produced journals or magazines. Freeform zines that disregard these conventions also exist, but remain recognisably ‘zine-like’ through their acknowledgement of zine politics and aesthetics. Zines are also defined by their amateur production values and their generic variety, and the fact that creators of zines are motivated by passion rather than a desire for profit.

For Jessie Lymn, zines are ‘a complex ideological concept: unique, obscure, culturally specific and representing more than material objects.’12 They are an art form, a space for selfexpression, and a conscious reaction against a consumerist society.13 Thomas McLaughlin’s description of magazine-like publications ‘produced by amateurs on the fringe of journalism and the publishing industry’14 is predicated on the assumption that zines reproduce traditional production methods for the sole purpose of publishing obscure content; rather, the form of the zine itself is designed to ‘[subvert] the technologies we are told dominate our lives.’15 Jenna Freedman also suggests the zine form and content ‘are not always of a quality of calibre that would make it through a mainstream publisher’s editorial process.’16 I would argue zines as they have been perceived and zines as they are currently created are two distinct artefacts. Amateur zines reflect the punk do-it-yourself ethos through photocopying, text collages and found material; the aesthetic reinforces the political undertones of the content contained within the form. Self-published art zines, which have been declared the second wave of publishing, are more likely to have higher production values and incorporate formal art practice into their production and distribution. Laura Trethewey suggests the ‘imperfect zine’ is ‘increasingly becoming a vehicle for promoting and selling art, as well as becoming the objet d’art itself.’17 While both share similarities – such as limited print runs and a concern with keeping all elements of production under the control of an individual or small consortium – the differences are significant enough to reassess the processes, formations and significations that constitute zine culture.18

Lymn p10 Spencer (2005) 14 McLaughlin (1996) p53 15 Berry (2010) p37 16 Freedman (2009) p53 17 Trethewey para 3 18 Atton in Poletti (2005) p6 12 13

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history While the history of zines intersects with the history of the alternative press movement, zines are also associated with underground communities and are a physical iteration of alternative social relations. Elke Zobl suggests the history of Anglo-American zine publishing falls into three decade-spanning categories: 1930s – the emergence of sci-fi fanzines allows fans to trade stories and information unavailable through traditional media channels.

1970s and 1980s – an explosion of social and political activism is assisted by access to mimeographs and photocopiers. Music fanzines flourish as the burgeoning punk scene encourages a cross-pollination of art, social and political concerns. In a parallel to our online social networks, punk zines are ‘social vehicles’ that are mailed, traded and sold at punk shows and reinforce a sense of community.19 By the end of the 80s, concerns over punk’s increasingly conservative attitude are raised. Convinced the machismo of hardcore is a departure from punk’s sexually and socially non-conformist roots, zinemakers challenge the supposedly progressive punk scene for its replication of mainstream power structures and exclusion of nonwhites, women, queers and people who subvert traditional gender roles.20 1990s – the riot grrrl movement, sometimes referred to as the third wave of feminism, develops as a reaction to the post-punk scene.21 Explicitly personal zines grapple with identity politics and social causes while celebrating the mundane in everyday life; Zobl however argues these zines still lack sufficient reflection on white privilege and continue the hegemonic narrative.22 Interpretations of ‘selling out’ the underground drift away from the staunchly anti-consumerist stance of the punk scene, as zines begin to attract mainstream notice. Moreover, zines such as Dazed and Confused, Bust and Bitch transition into magazines and return to traditional publishing models, while other zinemakers begin to produce anthologies of writing first published in zines.

These developments alienate members of the community who were initially drawn to the cut-andpaste techniques of zine-making and the intimacy of a trade and gift economy.

Liz Worth identifies a fourth peak in zine publishing that coincides with the increasing ubiquity of the internet in the new millennium. Self-publishing and communication shifted from print zines to the digital realm, as forums, blogs and social media fostered a global, hyperlinked community and reconfigured the significations of alternative culture. Already an

Worth (2010) para 10 ibid para 14 21 For further detail on the relationship between the riot grrrl movement and zines, refer to Westover (2008).

22 Zobl (2009) p3 19 20

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underground practice, when zines declined further in popularity, doomsday predications heralded the death of the zine form.23

However Worth suggests an alternative: while zines continue to be made on a smaller scale, they are more deliberately constructed, and contain an awareness of the history of zines as a medium as well as recognising zine practice is a significant ongoing cultural tradition.24 Zinemaker Tara Bursey comments: ‘The key things that I’ve noticed about zine culture in the past 10 years is that a certain amount of focus and energy has come off of the production of zines, and more focus has been put on the preservation of zines and zine history through archival pursuits.’25 We are now seeing more zine anthologies and genrespecific distros, more libraries curating their own zine collections, and the increasing use of zines as educational tools.26

The so-called ‘second wave’ of self-publishing marks a departure from previous zine practice.

Veteran zinemakers have been critical of the higher production values of art zines, dismissing them as just ‘a lot of pictures and prints and illustrations.’27 The increasing prevalence of zines that act as project-oriented portfolios, designed to supplement a creative professional identity or document an exhibition, is indicative of the way zines now perform a new function within alternative culture and the contemporary zine community.

literature Ever since ‘Frederic Wertham’ published the first treatise on fanzines in 1973, in which he identified their defining characteristic as an ‘intensely personal’ quality,28 the academic study of zines has been primarily concerned with self-publishing practice, identity formation and the articulation of alternative politics. Anna Poletti, in her survey of Australian zine culture, notes that the ‘unquantifiable diversity of topics’ covered in zines resists a content-based definition, resulting in a focus on specific topical interest zines such as punk, the riot grrrl movement and British football culture.29

Yorke (2000) Worth para 33 25 Bursey in Worth para 33 26 For further information on zines and educational practice, refer to Congdon and Blandy (2003).

27 Trethewey para 7 28 Wertham in Duncombe p26 29 Poletti (2005) p8 23 24

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Stephen Duncombe’s Notes from Underground: Zines and the politics of alternative culture remains a significant book-length study of contemporary American zine culture. Fifteen years after its initial publication, his arguments still resonate in discussions of zine culture today.

According to Kirsty Leishman, Duncombe’s work demonstrates the ‘ill-contained’ nature of zines and ‘relieves subsequent researchers from pursuing such an arduous, yet futile, endeavour.’30 Duncombe’s analysis relies on an assumption of the centrality of oppositional positioning in zine culture, and that zines demonstrate an inherently anti-consumerist stance through cultural production.31 Poletti however argues there is no definable and static ideological position adopted by all who participate in the culture. Instead, she believes ‘it is reductive to suggest that all zines adopt an identifiable stance on the issues raised by consumerism.’32 Meanwhile, Amy Spencer approaches zines by situating them in a broader history of the underground and the rise of a lo-fi DIY culture.33 In the 15 years since Notes from Underground’s publication, the rapid development of technology has impacted on the zine’s construction of social relations. The shift from print zines to e-zines to online social formations has been widely addressed, but confusion still arises over the relationship between the various forms. One zinemaker comments: A friend of my neighbour asked what a zine was and I gave her a description that was worthy of Webster’s and then started showing her various zines… She looked at my current masterpiece briefly and said ‘So a zine is like a photocopied blog.’34

In her introduction to a collection of Australian zinemakers’ perspectives, Poletti comments on the zine culture’s curious resistance to summarisation or definition: Partly because of the ceaseless change in its membership, Australia’s zinemakers do not take up an artistic or literary tradition and strive for its continued refinement. Perhaps zines retain the feeling of a ‘new medium’ because as each new reader is transformed into a zinemaker, it is as though the zine-form starts again. As the new writer-cum-publisher learns the ropes, and distributes his or her victories and mistakes amongst a diverse readership, the zine-form is re-invented.35 Leishman in Poletti p8 Poletti (2005) p25 32 ibid p150 33 Spencer (2005) 34 Freedman in Brager & Sailor (2010) p24 35 Poletti (2006) p18 30 31

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Teal Triggs suggests there has been a generational shift in academic paradigms, as early producers take up academic careers and integrate their knowledge into their teaching and research activities.36 Her book Fanzines37 provides a historical overview cut-and-paste zines, but is considered controversial due to accusations of inaccuracies and plagiarism.38 Nonetheless, Fanzines proves useful in identifying the DIY zines that take pride in their amateur status, and form the basis of this thesis’ discussion.

Laura Trethewey contrasts Fanzines with Gestalten publication Behind the Zines: SelfPublishing Culture, which ignores the historical significances of zines, focuses exclusively on work produced in the last decade, and declares its purview the second wave of self-publishing and ‘the evolution of today’s media.’39 Trethewey remarks: ‘Anyone who might come across this coffee-table book at a gallery would take ‘zines’ to mean art displayed in glossy printed pages. If Fanzines is, indeed, the past and Behind the Zines really does represent the future, the art world, it seems, has already taken over.’40

methodology While academic literature provides the objectivity necessary for critical evaluation, it is equally as important to incorporate personal zine experience into discussion. The rapid nature of online self-publishing also provides an accurate means of identifying contemporary developments in zine culture. In the course of researching this thesis I have also purchased, handled and read hundreds of zines, attended zine fairs and exhibitions, and made both amateur zines and the self-published art zines that form the basis of my discussion. These experiences reinforce my observations and Chris McLaughlin’s notions of vernacular theory in zine-making.

Triggs in Brager & Sailor p8. Leon Neyfakh (2011) has reported on a similar rise of ‘punkademia,’ as prominent members of the punk community take up positions in academia and grapple with the contradictions of punk studies.

37 Triggs (2010) 38 If you search online for Triggs’ Fanzines the second result is a fan site dedicated to pointing out the inaccuracies and instances of reproduction without permission: http://fanzinesbytealtriggs.weebly.com/ 39 As per the press blurb in the Gestalten online store: http://shop.gestalten.com/behind-the-zines.html 40 Trethewey para 10 36

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For McLaughlin, creators of fanzines are ‘elite’ fans, whose fanatical knowledge allows them to approach theoretical questions from a perspective that academic cultural theory cannot adopt.41 Zinemakers engage in interpretive and evaluative disputes, make subtle generic and stylistic distinctions, and possess an insider knowledge that gives biographical and cultural context to the texts they engage with. Vernacular cultural theory ‘lacks the systematics of academic theory; it occurs in flashes, in local circumstances, rather than in sustained analysis.’42 This accounts for the privileging of zinemakers’ commentary over clinical analysis, and my occasional slippage into first person pronouns throughout this thesis. It’s a studied informality that acknowledges the spaces that academia cannot bridge.

While commentary on the current nature of zine culture has proliferated in the last year, I also recognise the fact that this thesis is biased towards by my own encounters with selfpublishing practice. The heterogenous nature of zine culture should, theoretically, allow for the existence of both rough-and-ready DIY zines and the more refined art zines that now dominate zine circulation. But there are contradictions in the ideology of zines and their contemporary practice that need to be addressed.

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Leishman in Poletti (2005) p23 McLaughlin p27 18

chapter one ideology and identity In order to compare and contrast amateur DIY zines with self-published art zines, we must first establish the ideology that underpins zine-making practice. Zines are more than a ‘static set of artefacts reflecting a static cultural group’; the ideology and practice of zine culture is so intertwined that the boundaries blur between producer and consumer.43 It is therefore not just the content of zines, but the way they are produced, consumed and re-produced that makes zine-making a radical site of study. This chapter will address the centrality of oppositional positioning and its role in the construction of a zine-making identity.

the politics of resistance Zines are ‘high-attitude productions’ that take on the urgency of resistance.44 They are created as a conscious reaction against a consumerist society, rejecting the expectations and disempowerment imposed on individuals by institutions.45 Knobel and Lankshear argue that zine culture creates new and alternative spaces within existing places, working within the dominant paradigms and disciplined places46 to resist and challenge.47 McLaughlin points out that zines have the urgency of personal engagement; their creators are not detached from the phenomena they describe.48 The zine practitioner’s way of seeing and doing ‘was not borrowed from a book, nor was it carefully cross-referenced and cited… It was a vernacular radicalism, an indigenous strain of utopian thought.’49

Through their writing and focus on specific topics, zinemakers critique ‘the problems of the present culture, economic, and political system; what they imagine and create as possible solutions to these problems; and what strategies and chances they have for actualising

Lymn p11 McLaughlin p54 45 Spencer p16 46 As per Foucault in Lymn p11 47 Lymn p11 48 McLaughlin p54 49 Duncombe p3 43 44

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these ideals on both a small and a large scale.’50 This can be equally applied to explicitly political zines and to zines such as Ladybeard, which focuses on minority identity politics and demonstrates a ‘personal is political’ approach to zine-making. Even personal zines, which do not have overt political content, still resist the commercially-motivated editorial decisions made in traditional media outlets. As Duncombe notes, their mere existence as ‘mundane’ literature elevates them to the same level of cultural significance as literature validated by conventional publication.51

the politics of form Zine culture is participatory culture; its significance lies in the process of exchange and its spirit of collaboration.52 According to Walter Benjamin, radical culture erodes the line between artist and spectator, producer and consumer, challenging the hierarchical division of labour and encouraging everyone to create.53 Zines are politically progressive not for their radical content, but for their dismantlement of ‘the bourgeois apparatus of production and publication.’54 They are handmade, limited edition, and deliberately ephemeral; their amateur, self-produced status invites the reader to create their own zine. Zines are a far cry from mass-produced commercial publications, which usually require access to capital and complex technology. This distance from the production process reinforces in the reader (or consumer of traditional media) an attitude of inactivity and inaccessibility. By their conflation of producer and consumer roles, zines challenge the dichotomy between active creator and passive spectator that characterises our culture and society.

Zines are also a reaction to the treatment of politics in high art forms. Benjamin provides a contemporary example of a photographic exhibition of poor people, which aimed to raise the viewer’s consciousness about the tragedy of poverty, but was instead rendered an aesthetic and a spectacle, removed from political struggle, and transformed into an object for visual contemplation.55 The framing of political issues within an artistic context further distances the audience from its original intent; the viewer is less confronted by reality, less likely to express outrage against the inequality and enact upon it, than they are to express Duncombe p3 ibid p22 52 Berry p41 53 Benjamin as précis’d in Duncombe p68 54 Duncombe p126 55 ibid 50 51

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admiration for the artistic skill involved in revealing the subtle nuances of oppression. In producing cheaper, disposable objects, zines instead operate against ‘the fetishistic archiving and exhibiting of the high art world and the for-profit spirit of the commercial world.’56 The zine’s ‘jagged’ design aesthetic interrupts the reader’s visual reading and stands in contrast with the polished and streamlined effect of commercial art, reminding the audience of the medium’s original purpose: to communicate.57

the politics of representation Duncombe refers to the erosion of the producer-consumer relationship as ‘politics by example.’ In their content, form and organisation, zines represent an idealised alternative organisation of human relations, creation and consumption. The interests and concerns of minority demographics are, theoretically, represented in the egalitarian space that zinemaking affords. And the strength of zines lies not in what they say they will do, but in what they actually are: they ‘bear witness to a rejection of the old and a creation of the new,’ and while this may have little impact on a macro political level, on a micro level it still registers as a significant form of resistance. 58

Resistance to the consumer mentality is central to the construction of the zinemaker identity, reinforcing the zine community’s status as alternative and underground. Previous studies of a given subculture would frame its members as outsiders engaged in a localised form of resistance to parent culture;59 Duncombe takes this stance when surveying zinemakers who are self-identified ‘losers.’60 The strategy of the ‘zine rebel’ is one of removal, of communicating feelings of alienation by willingly alienating oneself from society.61 For these individuals, zinemaking provides a means of connecting with like-minded individuals and engaging in a ‘cheap gift economy, a potlatch of almost worthless objects.’62 The trading of zines for gifts or services rendered, as well as the valorisation of amateur aesthetics, is interpreted by Duncombe as ‘instantiations of political resistance through cultural production.’ 63

Duncombe p127 ibid p128 58 ibid p196 59 McAuliffe p103 60 Duncombe p17 61 ibid p25 62 Lou in Poletti (2006) p30. Lou refers to ‘letters filled with beads and baubles and stickers and mixtapes and postcards and amusing news clippings and stupid ads and glitter amongst it.’

63 Poletti (2005) p24 56 57

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the consuming self Anna Poletti critiques the anti-consumerist stance of zine culture, however, arguing that in the absence of a mercantile economy, the politics themselves are remodelled into an object for consumption.64 Poletti, in constructing the case for the consuming self, refers to Zygmunt Bauman’s notion of ‘the consumerist syndrome’: The perception and the treatment of virtually all fragments of social setting and of the actions they evoke and frame tends to be subordinated to the ‘consumerist syndrome’. ‘Life politics’ and Politics with capital ‘P’, as much as the interpersonal and social relations, tend to be re-shaped after the likeness of means and objects of consumption and along the lines implied by the consumerist syndrome.65

The binary positioning of consumer culture – where those who identify with DIY and alternative culture stand firmly on the outside – has been questioned by Barry Richards. He suggests the consuming self inhabits a ‘projective system’, where consumer goods, and the imagery associated with them, are experienced partly through our projections into them, which are in turn shaped by our internal worlds.66 Consumer goods are objects of ‘libidinal attachment’ that carry status and significance; we purchase them to affirm an identity.

The desire for social change, which has been parlayed into political desire, is reconfigured by Poletti into an object of consumption. Zine practitioners therefore internalise and reproduce these values within the process of zine construction: doing things for yourself becomes what is now known as DIY and lo-fi culture. For Poletti this objectification of political desire is under threat of reorganisation by the immediate gratification of consumerism, an idea that will be addressed throughout this thesis.67

the unnatural break Hebdige’s studies of subculture are critical for any assessment of zine types and the forces that contribute to these distinctions. Subcultures are oppositional, innovative, experimental, challenging and devoted to the overthrow of orthodoxies – all ideas that reflect the ethos of zine

Poletti (2005) p158 Bauman quoted in ibid 66 ibid 67 ibid 64 65

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culture. The members themselves are therefore ‘self-conscious participants in a process that [negotiate] the meaning and value of activity.’68

Chris McAuliffe has reservations over the absolutist stance of oppositionality endorsed by Hebdige, arguing that subculture should not be considered an absolute or determined position; instead it is more useful to stress the mobile and negotiated aspect of subcultural meaning.’69 McAuliffe is primarily concerned with what he calls ‘cultural vitality’: When we speak of cultural vitality, do we mean sheer energy – the surface symptom of a deeper, oppositional avant-garde – or do we mean something more systematic and purposeful – the birth and consolidation of relatively stable cultural structure? And what, then, are we to make of cultural policies premised on the co-existence of both; that is, spontaneity and structure, refusal and affirmation?70

These ideas of spontaneity, structure, refusal and affirmation are critical to an understanding of a changing zine culture. As much as zines are associated with various subcultures, zine culture is its own community prone to the ‘routinisation’71 that occurs in any such space. What was once innovative becomes established; what was individual experience is now a shared reality. The ideology becomes entrenched, and what was once political resistance becomes a resistance to difference and change.

The problematic and insular quality of zine culture has also been of interest to members of the community itself. During the 1990s Melbourne zine boom, Amber Caravan created Milkbar, ‘an intelligent and professional journal that would treat the Australian zine scene as a movement and discuss it critically and thoughtfully,’ saying: We wanted zines to be appreciated beyond the safe confines of the scene within which they were created. Ultimately, we wanted to inspire zinemakers to take on the mainstream arts world. We felt quite strongly that zine-making was an art form, and that if more zinemakers thought of themselves as artists, and exposed themselves to the same

McAuliffe p103 p104 70 ibid 71 Duncombe p69 68

69McAuliffe

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rigours that budding young artists do, then youth arts in Australia would be much more vibrant and exciting.72

While Milkbar received support and praise both within the zine community and beyond, it was also criticised by a subset of zinemakers for the perceived attempt to sell out zines to the mainstream.

In writing about ‘the unnatural break’, Hebdige refers to John Mepham’s idea that ‘distinctions and identities may be so deeply embedded in our discourse and thought about the world... that the theoretical challenge to them can be quite startling.’73 While Hebdige is referring to subculture’s ‘violation of the authorized codes through which the broader social sphere is organised and experienced’, this can equally be applied to any changes that challenge notions of an established subculture.74 Kane Barwick, also writing about the state of Australian zine culture, observes the following: The zine world is inconceivably small; where one zinemaker protects the other, where feathers are easily ruffled when someone decides to break out of the mould and do something a little contrary. To most people, this is the inverse of the perception of zines as a free and highly improvised world. While on the surface ‘challenging norms’ (which norms I couldn’t honestly say) was the meat and potatoes of such a medium, what was most ardently adhered to was togetherness.75

shifting demographics Duncombe’s case for the discovery of alternative culture is so well-established that any attempt to further explore the idea of zines as underground artefacts would prove unnecessary. ‘The more important question,’ he says, ‘is who will represent it and how.’76 Duncombe notes that zinemakers are ‘loners’ who in an earlier time would have been described as ‘bohemian’ but now reject such an association. Instead, zinemakers are: young and children of professionals, culturally if not financially middle-class. White and raised in a relatively privileged position Caravan in Poletti (2006) p33 Mepham in Hebdige (1979) p90-91 74 Hebdige p91 75 Barwick in Poletti (2006) p23 76 Duncombe p16 72 73

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within the dominant culture, they have since embarked on ‘careers’ of deviance that have moved them to the edges of this society: embracing downwardly mobile career aspirations, unpopular musical and literary tastes, transgressive ideas about sexuality, unorthodox artistic sensibilities, and a politics resolutely outside the status quo…77

It is the dominance of white, middle-class culture – and its discontents – that informs the construction of zines and underground culture. In Archiving The Underground, an ‘aca-zine’ addressing zine practice and ephemera, Jenna Freedman writes: While zines are a minority majority effort, it is documented by more than one angry compilation zine that the medium has been dominated by privileged white punks. I would even go so far as to say that sometimes it feels like most zinesters are either punk rock white bicycle kids living in Portland, Oregon or crafty home schooling midwife mamas in their 30s. Even so, the voices and opinions of stay at home moms are underrepresented in corporate publishing. This is their outlet.78

But the portrait of a young, white, formerly middle-class bohemian is hardly representative of the entire zine culture, let alone the enormity of human existence. These individuals have the freedom to choose to join the fringes – or at least feel marginalised enough to find a sense of community outside the mainstream. Zobl has commented on the absence of self-awareness within zines regarding white privilege and the hegemonic narrative, even within the explicitly feminist zines that emerged out of the riot grrrl movement in the early 1990s.79 In an article for Broken Pencil, a magazine dedicated to zine culture, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha critiques the whiteness of, and lack of critical consciousness in, zine networks and histories: It's not that I stopped loving cut 'n' paste and glue sticks; I had just finally given up on a zine that, half a decade of riot grrrl and anarchist race and class wars later, was still dominated by white, middle class kids who were either myopic, apathetic or hostile about worlds outside of their own. The content of most zines was

ibid p8 Freedman in Brager & Sailor p24 79 Zobl p3 77 78

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so far from my mixed-race, anti-cop-brutality-organizing, queergirl-of-colour life…

I left, but my love of publishing didn't—it went into working on the last incarnation of Bulldozer/Prison News Service, a longrunning Toronto-based prison justice paper, and on Raj Palta, a South Asian for-youth/by-youth newspaper. Neither of these would be classified as zines (which begs the important question of how zines came to be defined so whitely).80

While zines are still made by non-white, non-Western members of minority,81 the above quote demonstrates the intersections of subjectivity, distinction, and expectations within zine culture. Individuals who express their discontent are as likely to depart as the zinemakers who move on to other projects and art forms. Amber Caravan finds it more rewarding to work with young zine creators who embrace the prospect of mainstream media exposure, describing them as the handful of zine creators (mostly comic artists) who opted to think of themselves as ‘artists’ rather than ‘ zinemakers’ [and] who have gone on to achieve many exciting things in the youth arts arena – holding group and solo exhibitions, working on innovative projects with arts festivals such as Noise and Next Wave, and receiving funding from state and federal agencies to create new work.82

from bohemian to bourgeoisie In recent years the shift in attitude from defiantly underground to actively embracing a creative professional community has become particularly noticeable. Zines have been adopted by designers, photographers, artists, researchers, and writers who are interested in ‘disseminating information about themselves and their favourite subjects not via predefined media such as Twitter or blogs, but through printed or other self-published projects—so-called zines.’83

Piepzna-Samarasinha in Zobl p3 Boellstorff (2004) documents the creation of homoerotic zines in Indonesia by practitioners who do not consider their selfidentity to be politically resistant or ‘gay’ as per Western social constructs. Instead these zines work to assert a sense of national identity within Indonesia’s existing postcolonial narratives of inclusion.

82 Caravan in Poletti (2006) p34 83 As per Gestalten press blurb 80 81

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The zines produced by this new demographic look significantly different to previous amateur creations. Behind The Zines, a luxuriously-produced bible of contemporary design and self-publishing practice, has been described as ‘a cutting-edge selection of international zines and examines their role as a catalyst in the evolution of media and graphic design today.’84 The book surveys a range of zines produced in the last decade, and focuses on project-oriented portfolios, pseudo-scientific treatises, and publications that demonstrate the influence of printing processes on zine aesthetics. The book’s very construction – metallic red foil text hot-stamped onto the fabric cover, exposed coptic binding, and twotone colour scheme mimicking risograph methods – underscores the rapid departure zines have made from the original ‘little smudged pamphlets’ that shaped our understanding of zine culture.85

This change also marks the departure of the ‘losers’ that populate Duncombe’s zine culture.

Instead of choosing to inhabit the fringes of the mainstream, we see zinemakers re-emerging from the professional, aspirational background that they previously rejected. Zine-making is now considered a valuable skill-set by graphic designers, editors, and small press publishers, whose knowledge of professional production methods push zine-making in new directions.

These recent developments force us to reconsider just what exactly constitutes zine practice. Zines were originally created as an anti-consumerist expression of political resistance; as zines change form and function, they trigger the same anxieties that occur with every shift within subculture. But what if these concerns have real merit, given the changes taking place in the current zine culture, and given changing technology, attitudes, and the appropriation of zines by a different demographic? The friction between ‘bohemians and the bourgeoisie’86 becomes even more apparent – not in the expected oppositional relationship between subculture and the mainstream, but within the zine community itself.

ibid Duncombe p1 86 McAuliffe p103 84 85

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chapter two practice As we have established, zinemakers are influenced by ideologies of the communities in which they participate. Likewise, zines take on different forms and significances that reflect the changing membership within the zine community. Because surveys of zine culture focus on genres that reflect academic perspectives or media interest, we see an inadvertent overemphasis of one zine form to the exclusion of all others. In this way the raw and deliberately handmade aesthetic, deriving from the graphic language of do-it-yourself punk zines, is normalised and becomes the standard that all following zines are held up against. Those that do not conform to this aesthetic may be criticised by zinemakers who distinguish between accepted practice and newer modes of production.

It is from this point of conflict and change that the distinction between amateur zines and second-wave self-published zines is addressed. The use of vernacular theory will become more apparent, as we approach an aspect of zine culture that has not been as widely studied within academia. Therefore the observations of zinemakers, as well as my own experiences, will supplement the academic frames of reference. This chapter will also utilise a variety of non-academic sources: not just the zines themselves, but news articles, interviews with online magazines, websites and academic zines, blogs and forums. A full summary of all zines discussed is located in the Appendix.

In order to survey ‘the mechanical pleasure’87 that zine-making inspires in practitioners, this chapter will use Chris Atton’s topology of radical media to compare and contrast various elements of production. Atton’s theoretical and methodological framework incorporates content as one element in an alternative media culture that is equally interested in the processes and relations that form around radical media production.88

87 88

Berry in Poletti (2006) p35 Atton in Poletti (2005) p21 28

Atton’s categories include: •

Content

•

Form

•

Reprographic innovations and adaptations

•

Distributive use

•

Transformed social relations, roles and responsibilities

These categories are useful in identifying the critical components of zines. This analysis will also refer to the criteria Jenna Freedman uses to distinguish zines from blogs. The following characteristics can also be used to further contrast production methods between DIY and self-published zines:89 Self-published and the publisher doesn’t answer to anyone: while blogs allow for free expression, the supposed empowerment of this platform is limited by the need for internet access; censorship, copyright and IP anonymity issues further complicate this arrangement.

These issues would also affect zinemakers who try to produce digital zines and e-zines with no physical counterpart. As Freedman notes, ‘Part of what makes zine what they are and what makes them so great is the total freedom not afforded to, but taken by the zinester.’90 Small, self-distributed print run: Freedman’s assertion that ‘a zine cannot still be a zine and have a large print run’ reveals the ever-present anxieties of selling out and ‘making it big.’ Zines can be individually numbered to indicate their status as a limited edition. However zines remain finite objects and beyond a certain point they cost too much to produce. Says Freedman: ‘After growing into 4-digit distribution, zines often begin to rely on advertising and outside printers and distributions – all people who then have an opinion about the zines’ content and the power to impact it, by refusing to advertise in or print what they don’t like.’

Outside the mainstream: Freedman notes a lack of heterogeneity in content and the demographics of both zines and blogs, at odds with the supposed purpose of zine practice.

Low budget and no need for any special equipment or knowledge: zine-making (and blogging) requires few overheads, provided you have access to a computer and the internet. The lowering of socio-economic barriers is a key point in any discussion of grassroots and decentralised forms of media. While blogs provide a space for ‘the voices of anyone with the gumption to put their words on paper,’91 the higher production values of self-published zines simply reinstate these barriers.

Freedman, Brager & Sailor p24-25 ibid p25 91 Freedman in Brager & Sailor p26 89 90

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Portable: This is an ongoing conversation within the general publishing industry. Recent developments in technology make it possible to read eBooks, news articles and full magazines especially designed for iPads and other mobile devices. A zinemaker’s disdain for these methods, and a preference for the physicality of the material form, is echoed in Freedman’s comment: ‘I’m sure there are people who read blogs by PDA on buses and in the bathtub, but that’s just wrong.’

An expression of Do It Yourself (DIY) culture: in a perspective that reveals the datedness of Freedman’s criteria, she posits blogs are restricted to the linear structure of templates, while ‘A zinester can be far more creative with layout, design and materials than a blogger can.’ This attitude does not account for the flexibility of new website layouts available in the templates created by and for communities embedded within online media platforms.

content According to Poletti, ‘the unquantifiable diversity of topics covered in zines resists a contentbased definition.’92 This would account for the wide-ranging study of niche interest zines, rather than those that adhere to a specific generic format. In order to distinguish between zines produced by fringe-dwellers – for whom zines are a form of political resistance – and the second-wave zines produced by creative professionals, the content of zines is linked inextricably to the form of the zine itself. Stephen Duncombe provides a loose taxonomy of zines based on genre, which is helpful for evaluating the context in which zines are produced. My personal collection of zines reflects this taxonomy, which includes: political zines and personal zines – both ‘politics with a big P’ (including identity politics such as feminist and queer) and ‘politics with a small P’ (those that do not identify explicitly with traditional categories but still integrate political/cultural critique within its discussion). a brief history of all

the people I kissed in 2011 is a self-explanatory collection of dating experiences; Hati-Hati and Honesty is Still in Style document Keg D’Souza’s travels through Indonesia and North America.

Ladybeard allows Maddy Phelan to ‘come out’ as a bearded woman, detailing her struggles with internalised notions of conventional beauty fanzines, scene zines, network zines – while fading in popularity as networking and music discussions shift to the online sphere, zines of this category are still produced on a smaller scale.

We Are Not Obscene includes gig photos and reviews of the Canberran hardcorepunk scene, while Jhonny Russell and the Mystery School is a self-promoting combination of zine, music sampler and creative manifesto 92

Poletti (2005) p8 30

comix – underground comic books on themes ranging from the serious to nonsensical and humorous. Filmish describes elements of film theory using cartoon essays, while The Tilted Page is illustrated with clip art and hand-drawn speech bubbles literary zines – prominent blog writer David Shapiro produced The World’s First Perfect Zine whose list of contributors ranged from writers, bloggers, filmmakers, musicians, artists et al within the established New York creative scene; freelance writer Molly Young’s chapbook Privacy contains observations of life in New York; Tamara Lazaroff’s 98-page poetry zine Poems I’ve lived with rivals the length of professionally-published anthologies, while Ivana Stab collates the best parts of her journal writing in her Feels Like Friday series

Clockwise from top left: Feels Like Friday #5; Ladybeard; a brief history of all the people I kissed in 2011; Hati-Hati; Honesty Is Still In Style (photos: Cassandra Grant)

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art zines – arguably the genre of zines with the greatest current representation. Midnight Morning, purchased at the 2008 MCA zine fair, is a 20cm x 20cm cardstock portfolio of illustrations by artists Will Loeng, Matt Huynh and Haline Ly; meanwhile zines such as Just Heaps Surprised To Be Alive, Yeah/Nah, Punch Yourself In The Face And Drop Dead, and Blood of the Young/No Culture Icons collaboration No Options (Friend Zone 3) represent a burgeoning subset of photography zines that celebrate the minutiae of everyday life, but also capture the skateboard scene through a disposable camera aesthetic The Rest – ‘a large category.’ 93

Clockwise from top left: Yeah/Nah samples; Just Heaps Surprised to Be Alive sample; Privacy; No Options (Friend Zone 3); Higher Arc #1 samples; Just Heaps Surprised to Be Alive (photos: Cassandra Grant)

93

Duncombe p11-13 32

In historical terms North American zines have more of a political slant – recently, Canadian activists protesting the Global Financial Crisis have published zines as a response to the mainstream media’s refusal to cover critical issues.94 Poletti’s research into Australian zine culture indicates a majority of local zines are personal zines, which feature tales of everyday existence, using plain words to tackle complex and niche topics that would otherwise lack an outlet for expression.95 Amongst the newer art zines Trethewey has identified ‘a homogeneity of style that seems to have emerged with the ubiquity of the Internet.’96 Sonja Commentz, who wrote the preface for Behind The Zines, places self-published art zines into five categories:97 gallery – zines as ‘playgrounds and portable stages for their artistic genius’, limited edition, unashamedly personal, collectible, ‘likely to sell out by word of mouth’ (this would be the closest analogue to Duncombe’s personal zines) laboratory – experimental zines which ‘probe the boundaries and possibilities of printing and design in a string of exciting research experiments’ kiosk – more polished and regular fare such as periodicals and actual magazines, whose creators are more disciplined and stick to chosen schemes and production schedules archive – collectors hoard ‘visual treasures’ – content on a particular theme or subject that provide ‘lovingly compiled insights into particular collections, topics, or obsessions,’ and which may be supplemented by found and orphaned works or internet discoveries theatre – integrating performative aspects to presentation and distribution.

form Eloise Peace of Melbourne’s Sticky Institute has commented on the way ‘some of the most popular zines [in-store] aren’t in book format. They more closely resemble magazines, letters or origami.’98 Laura Trethewey estimates the scrappily produced, text-and-collage type of zines previously in high circulation now only make up about 5-10% of the zines available at zine fairs.99 In its place we see zines that, in terms of production, it would be more appropriate to call self-published small books, magazines or literary journals.

Clark (2008) Trethewey paragraph 16 96 Trethewey para 10 97 Commentz p6 98 Campbell 99 Trethewey para 9 94 95

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constructing a zine aesthetic Zine have traditionally adhered to the DIY aesthetic pioneered by the punk scene in the late 1970s. These homemade fanzines were a visible departure from the streamlined books and magazines produced by publishers, an explicit practice of political resistance, and a reminder to the reader that no advertisers or corporations were involved. These zines made heavy use of stencilling, collaging, hand writing and newspaper cut-outs, in order to visually disrupt the streamlined design of professional publications. Teal Triggs argues these techniques established a ‘specific visual immediacy’ to the messages contained in the zines, and provided an identifiable DIY aesthetic that remains unapologetic for its raw and amateur production quality.100

Photocopying and mimeographing were technological developments that also allowed zinemakers to bypass printing methods that required high capital and institutional support.

The use of available technology and a specific graphic language has resulted in shared characteristics between zines, and cemented a set of commonly-used aesthetic and production principles that still exist today.101 This is apparent in the expectation that ‘authentic’ zines should be photocopied, overcrowded black-and-white A4 pages folded in half and stapled, and should look deliberately raw and incomplete. Triggs notes this visual reflection of the punk fanzine’s content carries the implied message: ‘if you’re not enjoying this there’s something wrong with you.’102

Over time the cut-and-paste aesthetic has solidified into an unofficial canon that still influences zines, even if they do not share the explicit politics of punk zines. The pocket-sized personal zine Feels Like Friday utilises the photocopy aesthetic to great effect: word processed text is collaged onto illustrations and scraps of paper, then negative-photocopied to render the black text white and the white page black. On the cover, torn edges leave shadows against white space and are overlaid by black smears left by toner cartridges; across the top of the cover, the edge of another page is still visible where the creator cut across the page.

Ladybeards is entirely typewritten and hand-corrected despite being produced in 2010; the typewriting references the handmade aesthetic, but also forces the reader to pay attention and work to parse the dense layout and faded text.

Triggs (2006) p74 ibid p69 102 ibid p76 100 101

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This ‘jagged’ design aesthetic, in stark contrast with to the polished effect of commercial art forms, interrupts the audience’s visual reading, so that instead of allowing readers to slip passively into the message conveyed, zines confront and ‘piss readers off, have them work to make sense of the bizarre world of the writer, [make them] Read, React.’103

While it was and still is possible to produce zines that do not adhere to the punk aesthetic, the political undertones of the do-it-yourself ethos allow these productions to exist as zines, provided they do not replicate the forms of traditionally produced books, journals and magazines. In this way the term ‘zine’ can be applied to the photocopied pamphlets of the 1970s, as well as the following examples:

Cardboard Collective: cartoon and illustration zine with stencilled covers salvaged from old boxes, bound with string You:

weekly letter

addressed to the

reader,

written

anonymously, freely distributed around Australian cafes and zine fairs Jellyfishlore #5: roughly A5 ‘humble zine of poetry and prose and things.’ Word processed text is glued to transparency paper pages and hand-stitched together; a white feather has been attached to a handwritten cover made from uncoated linen paper

At the same time, emerging art zines dismiss the significance of the cut-and-paste aesthetic as an ‘amateur’ effort.

Described as ‘the second wave of self-publishing,’104 these zines echo the do-it-yourself ethos of punk zines with wildly differing results: From top: Samples of Ladybeard and Feels Like Friday #5; Cardboard Collective #1 (photos: Cassandra Grant) 103 104

Duncombe p128 Trethewey para 10 35

Scotch + Dry and Burrow are two zine-journals produced by University of Western Sydney design students as part of their program of study. Selfdescribed as an exploration of ‘the role of graphic designers in the real world and the differences that design can make,’ the journals contain full colour illustrations and photos, are printed on coated paper and perfectly bound, and feature two different covers for the same issue.

Ashes and Broken Brickwork of a Logical Theory is a small book that features black and white photography, scanned pages of literature including Agatha Christie and Leonard Woolley, and fragments of text along the top edge of every page. The colophon indicates it was produced to accompany Susanne Kriemann’s 2010 exhibition of the same name, and includes an ISBN and acknowledgement of sponsorship by the Royal Academy of Fine Arts and the Flemish Government.105 The tone of the content is similar to Trethewey’s notion of ‘highfalutin topics as Milan Kundera’s theories on kitsch… or the geometric beauty of park furniture [where] the discourse tends to be neither personal nor political but abstract and academic.’106 This Is the Same Ocean is an A5 risographed photography zine featuring submissions from around the world. It has a two-tone risographed cover and includes an ISSN; my copy is also numbered 96/100.

Kill Communication is a collection of photographs from around the world that capture the work of street artist Kill Pixie. Although it is printed in black and white, the cover is full colour cardstock with fold-out cover flaps that reveal an editorial masthead and the imprint of small press Izrock Publishing.

105 106

From top: Kill Communication; This Is the Same Ocean; Ashes and Broken Brickwork of a Logical Theory (photos: Cassandra Grant)

In accordance with Grigely’s notions of the exhibition prosthetic, Haylock (2011) Trethewey para 16 36

While these all, technically, qualify as self-published zines, it is also apparent that they follow a different ideological agenda. Zinemaker Lacey Prpic Hedtke distinguishes between ‘zines’ and ‘artist books’, calling the majority of what is now seen at zine fairs the latter. 107 Artist books and art zines are made in limited runs, with deluxe materials, and may be sold for significantly higher rates. These publications do not resemble zines, but since they are still sold in the context of zine fairs and exhibitions, we must accept their self-definition. If these zines resemble the photocopied artefacts of a previous time, it is only to adopt the cultural cachet attached to them. Zines that look thrown-together evoke not the slick digital future but the urgency of the present moment; however their ‘polished professional creators’ only adopt this in order to imbue their work with the same sense of spontaneous populism.108

The contradictions of an established zine aesthetic are similar to those of the minoritymajority demographics of subculture. As the DIY aesthetic becomes the norm and new zine forms emerge, an unnatural break occurs within the zine community itself. Hebdige’s quotation of Stuart Hall echoes the same horror in the face of new developments, which are both ‘dramatic and meaningless within the consensually validated norms, [and] pose a challenge to the normative world. They render problematic not only how the world is defined, but how it ought to be.’109 Self-published zines breach our expectancies, and lead the makers of DIY zines to wonder what really qualifies for the name anymore.

innovations and adaptations This section is critical for understanding the development of the self-publishing aesthetic and its violation of authorised codes that have been internalised by older zinemakers. Zines were defined primarily by their photocopied nature, a form of technology that revolutionised self-publishing and enabled an alternative form of communication to bloom.

In order to comprehend the significance of artistic zines, we should also consider the process of production from a design perspective.

In writing about design, Victor Margolin encourages designers to capitalise on existing equipment and materials in order to accomplish their own projects and goals.110 The Trethewey para 17 ibid para 13-14 109 Hebdige p91 110 Margolin (2003) p160 107 108

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accelerated pace of change in technology has led to the dematerialisation and reduced cost of production, but also ‘goods that are made with more compact but stronger materials,’ an idea that echoes Walter Benjamin’s Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction. New technologies have redefined traditional notions of a cottage industry: ‘No longer associated specifically with the crafts and limited to local distribution,’ Margolin says, ‘a contemporary cottage industry can use the most advanced technology and reach a worldwide market.’ For Sonja Commentz, cutting out the middleman is integral to the self-publishing scene, where

the ‘removal of filters like publishers, distributors, editors, or bosses, can go either way [and] the results might benefit from professional intervention. Yet even the most spectacular examples of misguided self-indulgence will most likely be at least interesting and intense.’111

In contrast to the rough aesthetic of deliberately amateur zines, self-published zines require a level of design knowledge and proficiency. This would account for the spike in screen-printing in zines a few years ago and the recent surge of risograph reproduction. Brad Haylock explains the appeal of risograph digital duplicators is both economic and aesthetic: ‘the machines are reliable and cheap to run, while the prints have a unique quality that more closely resembles a screen print than a photocopy (and indeed multiple spot colour inks are available, including fluorescent and metallic colours).’112 He argues risograph is still a marginal practice within the publishing industry, an idea that reinforces Margolin’s conviction that contemporary designers can challenge the system of industrial production while still establishing their own niches within it.113

publishing as radical practice According to Commentz, digitisation has allowed aspects of ‘computer-related trickery’ to slip ‘deeper into the actual chain of creation,’ reconfiguring the creative professional zinemaker’s do-it-yourself attitude: All of a sudden, it is up to you which parts of the process you want to outsource or tackle yourself: from creation and design to promotion, production and distribution, there is a digital–and possibly free–alternative to any aspect of the traditional publication process. Scan, compile, and layout your flashes of inspiration on a

Commentz p4 Haylock p1 113 Margolin p163 111 112

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computer. Promote your new baby or crowdsource ideas via your own blog and social media. Opt for a print-on-demand service.

Integrate a pre-pay order service or PayPal button on your site. Or pick and mix between digital, homebrew, and professional thirdparty options at every single step of the way.114

Haylock argues the use of risograph printing allows for a proliferation of zines and small books that would otherwise be difficult to publish if using the offset printing methods used by larger-scale exhibitions and events. He refers to Johanna Drucker’s notions of ‘the auratic principle’ and also ‘the democratic multiple’, which allows small books to ‘pass into the world with the fewest obstacles between conception and production, production and distribution.’115 Artist books can then be described as the following: Not all artists’ books are issued in photo-offset reproduction on neutral paper with standard, supposedly inexpensive formats. An artist’s book can be a unique work, a highly limited edition, or an inconsistent edition, and still be a work which is a direct expression of aesthetic ideas in a book form. … Many of these books have an auratic quality, an often inexplicable air of power, attraction or uniqueness.116

Risograph methods are notably imperfect. The dot grain as more pronounced, ‘warm’ and analogue, closer in appearance to screen print than offset or colour digital, and more likely to produce uneven print densities. Moreover, in-house print technology includes simpler finishing methods, such as saddle stitching and manual collation. The amount of handwork involved increases the likelihood of imperfections and variation within a print run. Therefore, Haylock concludes, although they are mechanically produced, risographed zines demonstrate an auratic quality by virtue of their imperfections, and the subtle evidence of handiwork not apparent in more commercial productions.117

I would argue that on a functional and economical level you could achieve a similar if not more reliable effect using a standard photocopier. The popularity of risograph amongst designer zinemakers, however, stems from the variation in print and deliberate flaws that renders each object as unique as a mass-produced, limited edition object can achieve an Commentz p4 Drucker in Haylock p3 116 ibid 117 ibid 114 115

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‘artisanal, auratic quality.’118 Haylock argues risograph duplication also reproduces the politics of zine-making, as independent publishing collectives (such as the Sydney-based Rizzeria Collective) are ‘frequently established with a mind to democratise access to print production.’119 For Haylock, zines are not products of explicit political censorship, but are artefacts of cultural marginalisation: ‘the ethic embedded in this form of publishing is more subtle than the oppositional politics which Duncombe associates with more conventional, grassroots examples of zine-making. The leitmotif of this sector is predominantly one of creative agency, one of artistic rather than political necessity.’120

He does concede that the designers and individuals behind small presses are creative professionals and do not qualify for Duncombe’s ‘amateur’ status, agreeing that ‘the type of publishing considered here differs dramatically from true zine making, irrespective of the parity of form.’ Risograph would therefore be more appropriate for the production of small books and artists’ books.

distribution According to Anna Poletti, zine economy encourages the ephemeral quality of zines: Most people have not heard of zines because they are not easy to find (unless you know where to look) and their lifespan – as objects circulating in a particular economy – is short. The producer of a zine can run out of copies in a few hours at a zine fair, or may mail out the entire print run to their readers in the course of a day.121

Poletti then identifies three main strategies for circulating Australian zines: commission sales through online distributors and sympathetic stores; direct sales and trades at zine fairs and markets; and individual postal circulation. Consignment occurs through retail stores such as Red Eye Records in Sydney, or through distributors such as:

Haylock p4 ibid 120 ibid p5 121 Poletti (2005) p12 118 119

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Sydney – Take Care distro, Paper Mill art space (now defunct) Melbourne – Sticky Institute (a physical site dedicated to zines; this includes physical sales and online distribution, zine workshops and resources, and tours for school children), Missing Link distro, Perimeter Books (dedicated to selling zines, small books, art journals, and small press publications) Newcastle – the now-defunct Bird in Hand distro Toowoomba, Queensland – Smells Like Zines distro Perth – Aunty Mabel’s Zine Distro

Many of these distros have online sites through which readers can read reviews and purchase zines. Significant fairs to buy and trade zines include the MCA Zine Fair held at the Museum of Contemporary Art, showcasing zines, design and art by emerging and established creatives; the National Young Writers' Festival's Sunday Artists' Market & Zine Fair, held as part of the This is Not Art festival in Newcastle; Format Festival in Melbourne; The Biannual Festival of the Photocopier and International Literary Conspiracy Week Festival, run by the Sticky Institute; and the Emerging Writers' Festival's annual Independent Press Fair in Melbourne.

At the MCA Zine Fair the divide between DIY zines and self-published zines is pronounced, especially since the fair is held in the exhibition space attached to the main centre.

Trethewey’s calculation that amateur zines are outpaced by self-published zines can be confirmed by anecdotal evidence and personal observation.122 If institutional support for the zine community comes in the form of access to exhibition space and exposure to a broader audience, it is likely that the zinemakers who most benefit from this relationship will be graphic designers and artists, who are willing to reproduce formal art practices, than those who create amateur zines as a form of anti-consumerist resistance.123 But the more these self-published zines dominate distribution spaces, the more they are represented in the public perception of zines, and the more it contributes to the erasure of the amateur zine’s significance.

122 123

For further clarification please refer to Appendix for examples of zines within these discussed distribution economies.

Veteran and amateur zinemakers may, on principle, avoid these exhibition spaces in favour of mail and online distribution methods – particularly since many distros have stringent, genre-specific vetting processes.

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uncoupling the physical from the local Poletti’s survey of the Australian zine economy is fairly representative of zine economies in different countries. While zine distribution on a local scale primarily requires human interaction or a physical store location, Margolin argues it is now possible to uncouple the physical from the local via the internet: An emerging global marketing structure is also changing the way that goods are sold. A manufacturer can now build a network of interested consumers who are widely distributed in space rather than located in a specific geographic area. Through the Internet, one can reach people scattered around the globe without having to target a particular location with printed material, billboards and the like. This enhances the opportunity for innovation. Many new products can reach the market in ways they never could before. Production can be based on small batches of goods that are distributed to individuals or selected retailers, and, in fact, a producer can create a special community for a particular product.124

Publications available online can be distributed independently to an unofficial international network of specialist bookstores, or they might be distributed by one of the few global distributors who specialise in such niche art and design publications, but these publications are invariably also sold directly to consumers by way of the publishers’ websites.125 Commentz considers distribution the key weakness of the second-wave publishing scene, as ‘not everyone is willing to go it their own and rely on a purely web-based ‘people will find me’ approach.’126

Moreover, Alexis Zavialoff is critical of contemporary zinemakers who do not adopt mainstream production and distribution methods: ‘They might have a grant or sufficient funds for their first publication,’ he says, ‘but after their book has come off the press, they simply stop worrying about it. They forget that they have to work with the book – they have to promote it and not just hand it to some wholesalers who might relegate it to a dusty warehouse. That is the best way to lose money.’127 Reading between the lines, Zavialoff would equate consignment stores with ‘dusty warehouses’ and considers such a method lacking in economically-motivated hustle. These discussions of appropriate business models run counter to the trade economy that dominates the local mail distribution system.

Margolin p160 Haylock p4 126 Commentz p5 127 ibid p6 124 125

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transformed social relations, communication, roles and responsibilities For all the discussions surrounding the content and form of zines, the relationships they foster amongst zinemakers are equally as important. Veteran zinemaker Vanessa Berry writes of the freedom zines afforded her at a time when few other avenues of communication existed, allowing her to express her views and connect with like-minded individuals. She says: ‘I wonder sometimes, translocating the me of fifteen years ago into the present, if I would still feel such a compulsion to make zines now, when I could so easily publish my views, and seek out other likeminded souls, online.’128 Some zinemakers do not consider the final, physical product of the zine as important as the effort and time put into their production. As Amber Caravan says: The zines themselves seem almost too flimsy to have meant so much to me… The objects themselves are almost always too slight to hold all the meaning they’re given. It was the network of zines and gifts and letters that held power – the magic in exchanging your photocopied scrawl for someone else’s…

A lot of its meaning lay in the process of exchange and the connection to other zines, to the network of zines, what some would call the ‘zine community’ but I think of more as something virus-like, capable of reproducing itself secretly. Killed, some might say, by exposure to the light.129

In contrast to the gift economy within which amateur zinemakers operate, the relationships between second-wave zinemakers are more calculated. Commentz notes self-publishers frame their relationships in the context of ‘patrons, fans, fellow creators, and helpful sources’: ‘It is a network built on enthusiasm, idealism and pragmatism: Who knows the best affordable printer? Or a cheap and flexible binder, willing to go that extra mile (or centimetre) for a tiny edition? Will you sell my zines if I promote yours? Based on an enticing web of Chinese whispers and a modern take on the barter economy, the entire system thrives on physical, financial and constructive feedback as well as a certain amount of give and take.’130 Berry in Poletti (2006) p37 Caravan p30-31 130 Commentz p5 128 129

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commodifying the zine Comparing the price of zines is useful for calculating its inherent value within zine culture and the broader art community. Poletti estimates personal zines in Australia are priced $1-$5 and may cost up to $15.131 One Canadian zinemaker finds success selling his DIY zines at fairs with a sign that reads ‘fuck you it’s a dollar, just buy one.’132 On the other hand, Trethewey describes instances of gallery exhibitions where zines sell for $1,500 and single page illustrations hover at a $350-$400 price point. Those who couldn’t afford the original pages were able to peruse copies of the zine, serving the same function as traditional exhibition catalogues. Zines became ersatz copies, low-level artefacts produced to accommodate those who couldn’t afford the real thing.133

The auratic function of zines appears to be common practice among those who self-publish their art zines. Most exhibition catalogues and monographs are subsidised by state grants, commercial sponsorship, museum backing, or lottery money. As Commentz says, ‘For all but the most famous protagonists, breaking even – or making money – promises to remain an illusion within the mainstream publishing world. And not everyone is precious about exclusivity: some simply produce precious products.’134

When zines shift in function from communicative vehicle to what Joseph Griegley terms ‘the exhibition prosthetic’,135 we also witness a shift in economic dynamics. The ‘passion not profit’ ethos gives way to increasingly mercantile expectations of transaction, at odds with the egalitarian ideology of zine-making practice and consumption.

reinforcing the producer-consumer relationship The aesthetic and production mode of amateur zines help to establish a democratic space that disregards commercial forms of exchange. Commercial culture is designed to attract individuals who are only able to engage on its terms as a consumer; big budgets and professional training – necessary for the emulation of a commercial aesthetic – distance the consumer from the process of production, preventing them from interacting beyond the

Poletti (2005) p16 Trethewey para 18 133 ibid para 1-2 134 Commentz p4 135 Grigely in Haylock p2 131 132

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constraints established and controlled by the producers.136 Thomas McLaughlin suggests acts of vernacular radicalism, such as culture jamming and textual poaching,137 allow consumers to resist this commercial dynamic; these practices also contribute to the equalising dynamic in zine culture that allows the reader to make the switch from spectator to collaborator.138

Similarly, the low-production values of amateur zines communicate to readers the sense they should be producing them as well. The technical virtuosity in art may leave the reader in awe, but zines, ‘with all their seams showing,’ encourage you to come close and say ‘I see how they did that. That’s not too hard. Anybody can do that.’139 Duncombe stresses the significance placed on production does not detract from the significance of the content itself, but rather, ‘what is unique, and uniquely available, about the politics of zines and underground culture is their emphasis on doing it yourself.’140 The expectation that selfpublished art zines can command significant sums therefore reproduces the producerconsumer dynamic that zines are supposed to dismantle.

inversions of ephemera Zines are usually considered items of ephemera due to their limited print runs, low-key distribution tactics, and status as transitory objects of exchange.141 However their shifting usage – in direct correlation to the increasing ubiquity of the internet – calls for a reconfiguration of their consumption and distribution. Kenneth Culton suggests the use of online message boards and livejournal communities allows members of punk scenes to struggle with identity formation within the virtual realm.142 Similarly, zines such as Bitch and Bust, which have transitioned into traditional magazines (with accompanying online platforms) are able to reach out to a wider audience, ‘where it is desperately needed’143 amongst demographics unable to participate within local zine economies.144 Henry Jenkins has written extensively on fanfiction as a form of participatory culture and textual resistance, but it is also important to note that fandom subcultures originate from the sci-fi fanzines of the 1930 and 1940s.145 Meanwhile,

Duncombe p126 McLaughlin p57 138 Duncombe p126 139 ibid p128 140 ibid 141 Poletti (2006) p18 142 See Culton (2007) 143 Duncombe p164 144 See Duncan (2005) 145 See Jenkins (1992) 136 137

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Frederick Wright’s 2001 dissertation on zines in the context of electronic publishing and the literary underground may seem dated,146 but his ideas still hold currency today, given the ongoing transformations in the publishing industry.

These examples demonstrate the role of the internet in opening up the underground for exploration and excavation. The material form of the zine, on the other hand, differentiates zine culture from other subcultures in that it remains partially resistant to the forces of technological change. Zinemaker Claire Heslop initially traded in zines for blogging but found the experience less satisfying and so returned to zines, saying, ‘It’s not the same as having a real, small, colourful and crazy interactive piece of something that somebody made by hand for you.’147

Zines are also valued as finite objects,148 and for the exclusivity they represent to an audience swamped by digital communication. Jenna Wortham reports a resurgence of interest in making DIY zines, linked to the corresponding ease of publishing online content through various blogging platforms. According to Wortham, ‘web-savvy’ creative professionals make zines as a reaction against the relocation of experience to the virtual realm.149 Small, personal and contained, zines offer a respite from the endless stream of tweets, blog posts, instant messaging, email and other digital media.150 David Shapiro, a prominent New York blogger who curated and produced The World’s First Perfect Zine, turned to zine-making after tiring of the high turnover rate of online content. ‘It’s satisfying to produce something that people can hold and treasure and value partially for its physicality instead of something that gradually disappears,’ he comments. ‘In 2011, it feels like a rare pleasure to hold up a bunch of pieces of paper that are bound together and read them, instead of reading off a screen.’151

archiving, access and deliberate limitation The ease of acquiring zines –through online distros or directly from the creator – belies the ongoing issues with zine archives and conservation. According to Patricia Schuman, ‘The information produced by alternative publishers is not always neatly packaged, reflective, or scholarly. But it is timely, and it is the raw material from which societal transformations are

See Wright (2001) Worth para 2 148 Berry (2010) p37 149 Berry p37 150 Wortham(2011) para 6 151 ibid para 17-18 146 147

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forged.’152 Although the Australian zine culture is ‘lively, dynamic and organised,’ Poletti argues the lack of any critical or institutional sense of a ‘field’ impacts on any attempt to document Australian cultural praxis.153 As part of a preservation strategy survey, Jessie Lymn reports a zine digitisation project was briefly considered for the Octapod Association in Newcastle, but discarded in favour of preserving the physical objects in the collection.154 From a conservation perspective it has been suggested zine-making methods actively contribute to their own degradation,155 but Lymn remains convinced the physical zines will continue to have educational, archival, research and community value.

Technology is utilised in the creation, design, distribution and promotion of both self-published and amateur zines, but they are primarily a labour of love; the goal isn’t to turn a profit, but to capture a moment in a way that still gives the creator the freedom to explore and experiment.

Vanessa Berry suggests the use of the internet results in a ‘vast collection of surfaces,’ where things that were once hidden are exposed and threatens the sanctity of the underground.156 Moreover, the ever-increasing accuracy of indexing algorithms inverts all expectations of ephemera, allowing digital detritus (both wanted and unwanted) to resurface through search engines. While the stream of digital surfaces gives the suggestion of fluidity and impermanence, it also resolves the problems of archiving posed by paper zines.

In an interesting twist, newer creatively-professional zinemakers find such exposure inhibiting and disconcerting, and turn to zines as a means of controlling who has access to reading, purchasing, and handling their work. ‘I like the idea that I’ve only made 40 copies, and only 40 people will see it,’ says zinemaker and graphic designer Barbara Ryan. ‘It’s really quite easy to reveal a lot about yourself, and so this is a way of getting control back, and I find that quite comforting.’157

Controlling access to zines is not just about privacy concerns, or reinforcing the secrecy of the underground. There’s also a sense of exclusivity behind deliberate limitation. For Commentz, this concept appropriates the following principles from the art realm:

Schuman in Lymn p18 Poletti (2005) p10 154 Lymn p18-19 155 Mordek (2011) 156 Berry p37 157 Wortham para 23 152 153

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the idea of artificial scarcity; of signed and numbered collectible editions; the notion of refusal; and deliberate, possibly obtuse inaccessibility – crossbred with a touch of underground elitism, of not being part of the mass-produced, interchangeable, and infinitely available mainstream.158

Veteran zinemakers take issue with this attitude, particularly when the same limited-edition zines appear at zine fairs without acknowledging the shift in context. Maranda Elizabeth remarks: ‘When you advertise your event as a zine fair, you are going to attract zinesters… A lot of us are broke, and when you charge a lot of money for your ‘art’, you have chosen to make your creations inaccessible to many of us.’159

The deliberate limitation of zines dovetails with notions of economic exclusion from highculture spaces. In carrying over these discourses to a deliberately democratic space such as zine culture, self-publishing practice alienates the fringe-dwellers for whom the community originally provided a place of refuge. It’s no wonder veteran zinemakers feel disturbed, complaining of the same violations of authorised codes that characterise Hebdige’s assessment of subculture’s unnatural break from the mainstream.160

Self-publishing practice is here to stay. While change is inevitable and should be encouraged for the sake of the zine culture’s vitality, why do zinemakers feel excluded from their own community? What chain of events led to the incorporation of high art discourses into a previously egalitarian space? The politics of alternative culture have always been stubbornly underground, local and introspective; however, the gentrification of zines and zine culture calls for a reconfiguration of politics on a global scale.

Commentz p4 Trethewey para 8 160 Hebdige p91 158 159

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conclusion the gentrification of zine culture One of the problems acknowledged by members of the underground community is its deliberate self-isolation from external forces. Kathleen Hanna, key figure in the riot grrrl movement that fuelled the zine scene of the early 1990s, once remarked: ‘Have you noticed that there is this weird phenomenon that happens to do with naming something and having it turn into something else? It is too easy for our doctrines to turn into dogma and recitations rather than meaningful interactions.’161 Carrie Brownstein of Sleater-Kinney fame also found the exuberance of the same scene empowering and stifling. ‘When you’re indoctrinated into a scene,’ she says, ‘there’s this pride that comes with being accepted and understood by people you admire. But the flip side of that is this almost stifling sense of democracy.’ Even worse is the elitism that masquerades as inclusiveness: ‘The rules are so esoteric, so hard to follow, that no one else could fit in. And what you’ll never admit to yourself is that you don’t want other people to fit in.’162

Zines may foster a complicated sense of community, but since personal experience and subjective realities are privileged over broader, public concerns, these communities tend to fragment into introspective micro-clusters that concentrate instead on what feels ‘real’.163 Amber Caravan is convinced the underground zine scene suffers from the same crippling selfconsciousness of alternative music movements, saying: ‘We’re resigned to the fact that, as an art form, zines are well and truly doomed. The currency in circulation within the zine scene is completely different to that used in the wider arts community. It’s like monopoly money. zinemakers who want to create meaningful and innovative ‘art’ must first escape from the confines of zinedom, because outside of the zine community their money is pretty much worthless.’164

Duncombe p69 Talbot (2012) 163 Duncombe p71 164 Caravan in Poletti (2006) p34 161 162

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These remarks are significant when placed against what is arguably a new chapter in the history of zine-making, where self-publishing practices become the norm and zinemakers incorporate formal art discourses into their work. Hanna’s conviction that ‘new standards arise when the whole thing was to shatter the old and replace it with action’165 therefore gains new meaning when the zine economy develops new currency, and zines take on new value.

selling out the underground Pierre Bourdieu writes that ‘tastes are perhaps first and foremost distastes, disgust provoked by horror or visceral intolerance of the tastes of others.’166 Duncombe notes veteran zinemakers have previously scorned the creators of zines who resort to ‘totally self-absorbed irrelevant facts and stories about themselves, using quick slick computer layout, Xeroxing it, then selling it for a ridiculous price.’ These zinemakers even go so far as to distinguish these publications from more amateur zines by calling them ‘zynes.’167 The same attitude occurs in present-day conflicts over what exactly constitutes proper zine practice, as seen in the Frequently Asked Questions page of Take Care distro’s blog: ‘I’m a graphic designer and me and my friends are starting a new magazine. It will be sort of like the love child of ‘Frankie’ and ‘Vice’.

We’ve self-published the first issue and it’s totally professional and ace.

It’s like a new step in the evolution of zines. It’s the future. Would you like to stock it?

Oh dear, context clash! We discovered and fell in love with zines in the relatively (and deliberately) underground worlds of independent record shops, diy gigs, activist politics and riot grrl idealism in the mid 90s, and while it might seem anachronistic or even impossible today to carry on in that spirit, that’s our main desire in running Take Care. We won’t stock anything that is an offshoot of an online magazine, has sponsorship or hi-end advertising, has ambitions to be anything other than a zine, has an issn/isbn, has a huge print run (or is professionally printed) or is otherwise super slick, magazine-like or too expensive for us to carry. In other words, we like zines because of the ways they are not like magazines.’168

Duncombe p69 Bourdieu (1984) p56 167 Duncombe p155 168 D, Emma (2011) 165 166

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The emphasis placed on zines ‘because of the ways they are not like magazines’ demonstrates the ongoing tensions between DIY amateur zines and commodified art zines. Curiously, this seems to be a one-sided argument. Artist Akiko Watanabe, when asked to explain why she presents her work in a zine format, answers: ‘I have never thought about it that much; it’s just a reasonable medium.’169 This total lack of awareness of zine history characterises the attitude of many selfpublishers, who value zines as a vehicle for self-promotion rather than a means for political or personal engagement.

Laura Trethewey poses the critical question: is there room in the zine world for both forms to exist?170 Theoretically, the heterogenous nature of zines should allow for different genres to share the same name, but the Take Care response reveals the contradictions of a subculture rooted in Bourdieuvian distinction and the social construction of taste.

revisiting subculture Hebdige’s ideas of incorporation are frequently raised in discussions of the ‘spectacular subculture and the various industries which service and exploit it.’171 While the commodity form and the ideological form are the more frequently discussed aspects of subculture and style, it is interesting to note Hebdige is more interested in the act of creativity than its social consequences or processes of commodification. He distinguishes between two kinds of subcultural stylists, which have corresponding zine analogues: artists who are static, expressive, and focus on the objects-in-themselves (self-published zines), and social activists who are kinetic, transitive and focus on the act of transformation performed upon the object (amateur zines with explicit political concerns).172 Duncombe posits zines are politics by example, since ‘their politics reside less in what they say and more in what they are: repositories of non-alienated creation and media for non-alienating communication.’173 He suggests zine culture qualifies for Antonio Gramsci’s notion of counterhegemonic culture in its construction of alternative meaning systems and representations; its potential for political resistance also echoes Eric Hobsbawm’s pre-political movements, since the zinemaker’s lived experience allows for a vernacular radicalism that

Watanabe (2011) Trethewey para 1 171 Hebdige p94 172 Dodger (1995) p123 173 Duncombe p166 169 170

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formal political groups may lack.174 Arguments for an authentic zine form have been shaped by the politics of purity embedded in these discussions, but McAuliffe posits an adaptation of Hebdige’s model for our contemporary global leisure-consumption economy, so that subculture becomes a negotiated position rather than a position of resistance.175

the commodification of indie culture Michael Newman proposes ‘indie’ is a cultural category that is not determined by industrial definitions, arguing instead that it ‘implicitly criticizes hegemonic mass culture, desiring to be an authentic alternative to it, but also serves as a taste culture perpetuating the privilege of a social elite of upscale consumers.’176 Indie demonstrates the progression of alternative culture into a culture of consumption, as oppositional forces appropriate the creative expression of the underground.177 Since zines are perceived as inherently counter-cultural, if they achieve mainstream recognition they then lose credibility.178

Selling out in indie culture is then reframed as an ‘infiltration of the establishment,’ allowing artists to retain their integrity while seeking commercial success. Indie as a form of distinction therefore transforms authenticity and autonomy into aesthetic virtues; Newman discusses the rise of an indie aesthetic in film, but this could also encompass literature, music and handmade zines.179 By the time indie culture develops into consumer culture, art becomes objects for sale in the culture market. Newman concludes: ‘To see [commodified art] as somehow more legitimate than other objects for sale in the culture market is to participate in producing the rhetoric of autonomy, authenticity and distinction that is so central to the construction of indie.’180

Ryan Bigge proposes the failure of authenticity stems from its use as a persona to disguise motive, since ‘the harder we work to try and keep it real, the more we encourage the rise of fake authenticity.’181 Artists who seek a ‘real’ or organic quality to their work cling to the artifice of imperfection; the DIY aesthetic of amateur zines, with all the edges exposed, is therefore considered more authentic. For Bigge, indie culture’s reproduction of economic resistance and ibid p175-176 McAuliffe p105 176 Newman (2009) p17 177 ibid p19-20 178 Caravan p34 179 Newman p22 180 ibid p34 181 Bigge (2011) para 5-15 174 175

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its search for authenticity requires a return to ‘financial transparency.’182 This contradicts the anti-consumerist definition of zines, but the terms of indie culture dictate its do-it-yourself ethos gives the end product an aura of authenticity.

By this logic, there’s nothing stopping the creators of zines from making money. Amateur zines have become objects of consumption, and also contribute to a recognisable handmade, indie aesthetic. But where do self-published zines figure in the consumption of indie culture? Dave Cave’s observation of zine fairs full of art prints and high-quality zines do not reflect his own purchases or experience. ‘I go and see these tables,’ he says, ‘and [see] it’s a mini-zine that’s only four pages and I look on the back and it’s $25. My only question is: who’s buying them?’183

ghettoisation, gentrification, globalisation If the zinemakers who create second-wave zines aren’t selling out, and they aren’t chasing the imperfect authenticity of DIY amateur zines, what does this say about the changes in zine culture? It seems as if each decade brings considerable revision to the ideologies of zine communities, but the sticking point with alternative culture is that it has no politics. Duncombe argues the underground ‘has no effective way to repel co-optation by parasitic markers, no way to reach out to the unconverted, no way to mediate between the annihilation of purity and the danger of selling out, and finally no way to combat the political and economic machine that is the cause of the alienation it protests.’184 The determination of members trying to retain the purity of the underground has only resulted in its own ghettoisation.

Given the lack of unifying politics to help us parse the differences between amateur and secondwave zines, perhaps we can theorise the transference of ideological engagement into new forms. The shift in zinemaker demographics means previously alienated ‘loners’ give way to the current crop of bohemians: creative artists, designers and writers who incorporate their professional skills into their zine practice. In using a sociological analysis of people and place, we can re-map the ideologies of zine culture to reflect a changing creative class.

ibid Trethewey para 6 184 Duncombe p193 182 183

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the creative lifestyle Richard Florida’s construction of a creative class relies on an economic survey of labour demographics. Calling creativity the most valuable commodity, Florida’s descriptions of creative professionals (classic knowledge-based workers) and a super-creative core (a broader range of workers whose occupations allow them to ‘fully engage in the creative process’) are predicated on the assumption that these ‘high bohemians’ foster dynamic working environments that will further attract creative professionals.185 ‘Human creativity is the ultimate source of economic growth,’ Florida declares;186 in ranking American cities by their ‘bohemianness,’ he claims the cities that prioritise this creative class will ensure their long-term prosperity.187 This theory has been criticised for the difficulty of quantifying creativity, and the impracticality of cities funnelling all their resources into a group that constitutes only 12% of the working population.188 Ann Markusen further critiques this analysis on the grounds that various workers who qualify for the creative class have no concept of group identity.189 By such logic we can assume zinemakers, who knowingly participate within a community, would not meet such criteria.

Sharon Zukin approaches Florida’s creative class not in terms of creative productivity, but rather through the cultural consumption of lifestyles. In her surveys of the ‘gentrification narrative’, Zukin argues the authenticity of a place is constructed by the movements of individuals who seek work opportunities and access to social and cultural networks.

Declining neighbourhoods are reborn into gentrified (or hipster) districts by individuals seeking a specific lifestyle, and whose entrepreneurial contributions – in the form of art and exhibition spaces, cafes, small bars, and boutique retail sites – are crucial for attracting future residents and developing a new identity.190 Loft living in New York, for example, is the creation of an aesthetic and artistic lifestyle dictated by market forces and cultural consumption; the accretion of years of continuous use results in an organic identity that creates place, rather than Florida’s figuring of municipal space.191 Zukin also observes:

Florida (2002) p5 ibid p22 187 Terry Cutler (2005) p39. In the foreword of the Australian edition of Florida’s Rise of the Creative Class, Cutler’s assessment of demographic data indicates Australia’s creative workers are concentrated in Melbourne and Sydney – which would account for the higher proportion of zinemakers and their accompanying ‘businesses’ (distros and exhibition spaces) in these areas.

188 Florida p8 189 Markusen (2006) p1923 190 Zukin (2011) p163 191 Zukin (1989) p67-68 185 186

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‘gentrified dwellings are both a means of accumulation and a means of social reproduction for part of the highly educated middle class. Moreover, as a reference to specific building types in the centre of the city, gentrification connotes both a mode of high-status cultural consumption and the colonization of an expanding terrain by economic institutions associated with the service sector.’192

Florida and Zukin both reveal the socio-economic privilege underpinning the creative class and a lifestyle of cultural consumption. By purchasing self-published art zines in the context of galleries and exhibition spaces, an affluent and educated bourgeoisie can affirm the authenticity of their refined yet recognisably alternative lifestyle. The intersection of place, space, and middle-class occupations all contribute to the commodification of creativity. This would also account for the gentrification of zines and zine culture: as creative professionals incorporate their technical knowledge into zine practice and raise the standards of zine production, they trigger a shift in ideology. Zine-making is no longer a democratic interplay of creation and exchange, but a creative lifestyle that celebrates technical proficiency at the expense of any real engagement.

global flows In discussing changing technology and design practice, Victor Margolin outlines the uncoupling of the physical from the local and attributes it to the rise of a global market.193 zinemakers can now distribute their products worldwide while still targeting a niche audience, thus reconfiguring the zine economy and sense of community. Although zines are defined by their form, they still provide a means of communicating political discontent, alienation and resistance. Whether amateur zines are political or personal, their creators exhibit an awareness of the external world and its issues. In an internet-saturated media culture, content-driven zines foster connections among like-minded individuals; moreover, zines still reproduce activist culture and continue to address issues ignored by mainstream media outlets.194

Zukin (1987) p143-144 Margolin p160 194 Clark 192 193

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Self-published zines contain little in the way of political content. Zinemaker Billy Mavreas identifies a homogeneity of style amongst second-wave zines that he calls ‘Death of the Local’: this seems to consist of a repetitious stream of ‘dreamy photos of faded horizons, stark shots of naked women wearing animal masks, illustrations of transmogrified woodland animals, Barbara Kruger-style headlines that shout disorientating phrases like Cats are Meaningless or God is in the Footnotes.’195 The generic zine format and tone may have developed from the use of the internet as an inspiration echo chamber, leading Mavreas to observe, ‘there doesn’t seem to be much difference in what you find in cities across the continent.’196

The global zine style may also be linked to creative professional zinemakers and the cityspace they inhabit. Adding to Florida’s creative class theory, Zygmunt Bauman argues the ‘new elite’197 may exist in a physical space, but their access to cyberspace allows them to disconnect from the realities affecting their local place.198 According to Bauman, ‘the real powers that shape the conditions under which we all act these days flow in global space, while our institutions of political action remain by and large tied to the ground; they are, as before, local.’199 If zinemakers who belong in the new elite are able to influence policy in the digital sphere, and allow them to trickle down in order to resolve local issues, then zines no longer need to serve the same political function. This would justify the use of self-published zines as art portfolios, as a demonstration of technical proficiency, and as commodified objects affirming a lifestyle of cultural consumption.

deterritorialisation and new definitions One of the most frequent questions I was asked while researching this thesis was: ‘Wait… what is a zine?’ And after I fumbled my way through defining and then qualifying the differences between amateur zines and self-published zines, the second-most frequent question was: ‘But aren’t they the same thing?’

‘Not really,’ I’d respond. The two types of zines discussed have clear visual differences, but they also share enough similarities to still be considered zines. As this thesis demonstrates, the distinctions between the two forms are so fine that we’re almost splitting hairs. Zines Trethewey para 10 ibid 197 Bauman (2007) p78 198 ibid p80 199 ibid p82 195 196

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represent more than their physical form, as they are shaped by changing technology and the ideology of the culture from which they’re produced. What was punk became riot grrrl became creative self-publishing; what was deliberately amateur becomes something more polished and refined. Anna Leventhal frames the changing role of zines as ‘deterritorialisation’, in which political and collective action positions zine culture not within a binary of under- or above-ground resistant culture, but rather as ‘moments on a continuum of independent media development.’200 While this explains the depoliticisation of self-published zines, I maintain the distinction between ‘amateur’ and ‘gentrified’ zines should still exist.

Although creative professional

zinemakers foster a vibrant sense of community, the

gentrification of zines also perpetuates a sense of exclusivity. Where the underground scene developed a ghetto-like mentality as a form of self-defence, the gentrified zine community is structured around creative professionals to the exclusion of all other demographics. Nonwhites, unskilled migrants, radical activists, the illiterates and loners and the freaks of previous zine eras: under the rubric of self-publishing, they no longer have the means or the space for zine creation. The digital realm may provide minority groups an outlet for selfexpression, provided they have access to the internet and a computer and an online social network. But I think it’s also unfair to banish non-creative professionals to the online frontier, and deprive them of the tactile pleasure of handling the physical form of zines.

If veteran zinemakers express dissatisfaction with the zines currently in circulation, it might be because they lack any sense of personal connection. I should know: when I decided to quit my photocopied zine-making and make a risographed zine with some designer friends, I couldn’t help but feel I was selling out. My writing became impersonal, pure content; I worried about numbers and money and launch nights and the intricacies of printing. Networking within the design and art economy proved daunting. Friends and acquaintances who showed little interest in my previous zine efforts expressed enthusiasm for a professionally-produced object – after all, they’d more easily fit into discourses of literary value. I was trading personal connection for a commodity that I could parlay into social and cultural credibility. This vague sense of unease, combined with unavoidable circumstances, meant I abandoned the project and returned to the familiarity of

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photocopied zines. Here I could write on my own terms; for me the mechanical pleasures of handmade zine-making won out.

I still think amateur zines play a role in the contemporary zine economy, just as much as the self-published creations that now dominate our perception of the form and function of zines. But it is important to recognise the gentrification of zines also results in a corresponding shift in the ideologies of zine practice, and benefits a very specific demographic. Amateur zine-making still provides a space for everyone else to say what they need to say – and, really, this might be what will keep zine culture alive in the long run. In the words of zinemaker Billy Mavreas: ‘People that are peddling content will always have an audience. The style birds are going to figure out what they’re actually trying to say and what they’re doing. People who are doing these traditional zines, the people who engage at the table… that’s going to be an incredible connection.’201

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appendix

Sample page from A brief history of all the people I kissed in 2011

list of zines referenced A brief history of all the people I kissed in 2011 (2011) free A6 black-and-white zine detailing the seven people the writer kissed and the lessons learned

Burrow (2010) free A5 colour illustrations and ruminations on ‘the role of graphic design in the real world and the differences that design can make’. Created by UWS design students

Ashes and Broken Brickwork of A Logical Theory (2010) $15 ‘Artists book’ to accompany an exhibition.

A5 black-and-white with colour cover

Cardboard Collective #1 (2009) 50c A5 black-and-white illustration zine covered with cardboard salvaged from old boxes, bound with string

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Dates I’ve Been On And Not Been On (2010) $3.50 A5 black-and-white zine detailing anonymous dates. Centre pages halved and sewn half again (spine stitched with red thread rather than stapled).

Kill Communication (2008) $15 A5 zine with black-and-white photography of the colour illustrations.

Full colour fold-out cover, published by Izrock pressings with support of the Monster Children gallery

Feels Like Friday #5 (2008) $3 A6 black-and-white zine ‘collection of writing from my journal’

Midnight Morning (2008) $50 25cm x 25cm art portfolio, colour printed on heavy paper stock with colour cardboard cover and Japanese bound

Filmish: Comic Book Essays on Film Theory (2009) $3?

A5 black-and-white zine with colour cover Hati-Hati and Honesty is Still In Style (2011) $5 each Anecdotes of author’s experiences travelling Indonesia and north America.

Japanese bookbound and stitched, risographed in 6 shades at the Rizzeria Collective Higher Arc magazine (2011) $25 Risographed magazine produced as project dedicated to new forms of publishing (http://higherarc.com).

Advertising also riso; multiple colours and excellent paper stock Jellyfishlore #2 (2010) $5 Roughly A5 ‘humble zine of poetry and prose and things.’ Written on word processor, glued to transparency paper pages, linen cover, handwritten zine title, white feather attached, hand-stitched.

Purchased from creator as she wandered around the MCA zine fair Jhonny Russell and the Mystery School (2011) free A5 black-and-white, colour cardboard cover ‘zine, sampler and manifesto’. Free CD attached to inside cover Just Heaps Surprised to Be Alive (2010) $15 incl postage Black-and-white (off-white, sepia) B4 photo zine, produced by Izrock pressings

Ladybeard (2010) $2 A6 black-and-white zine, typewritten Poems I’ve lived with (2009) $?

Tamara Lazaroff writes poetry in an A5 black-and-white zine Privacy (2009) $8 A5-ish black-and-white chapbook on Molly young’s short pieces of fiction; may have been primarily published on her tumblr blog. Published Krakatoa press Scotch + Dry (2008) free Two types: A5 black-and-white illustrations and ruminations on the role of graphic design in the real world. A5 colour illustrations, photography, collage and ruminations on the role of graphic design in the real world Sponsored by the University of Western Sydney et al The Tilted Page #1 (2008) $3 A5 black-and-white clip art cartoons, colour cover This Is The Same Ocean (2011) $10 Risographed A5 limited edition photo zine, cardstock. Contains ISSN number, printed at Dawn Press.

Yeah/Nah (2011) $6 incl postage Not-quite A5 landscape black-and-white photo zine We Are Not Obscene #1 (2010) $10 A5 black-and-white zine on the Canberran punk scene

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example of a gentrified zine The World’s First Perfect Zine (2011) $12 ($20 incl postage) A5 black-and-white zine with colour photos, cardboard stock cover, and big intentions. Although similar to amateur zines in construction, the list of contributors is stacked with aspirational creative types. David Shapiro (‘pitchfork reviews reviews’ writer) invites New York media, music, art, writing and film luminaries to contribute photos, screencaps of Skype conversations, reprints of blog posts, meditations on interviews (not) held for websites, New York parties, social media guru parodies, artists with graffiti interviews, talking about your internet job, the stories behind Vampire Weekend songs….

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example of political zine writing Untitled found zine (year unknown) “Sometimes semantics mean a lot. Deconstructing oppression is not victimhood. Asking for support is not victimhood. Telling someone that I really can’t handle trying to support them at the moment because of my own needs is not victimhood. This has been said before, but I feel like the most important elements of survivorhood are self-care and resistance. Self-care can be recognizing our limits and asserting them, recognizing our needs and asserting them, eating healthily and deliciously, gardening, taking a walk, meditating, going to a show, smoking pot, hanging out with animals, masturbating, appreciating ourselves, hiking, taking vitamins, taking our medications, talking to friends, doing schoolwork, watching the ants on the sidewalk, having rad consensual sex, identifying mushrooms in the forest, sewing, playing music, cooking, analyzing our behavior, working out… the possibilities are endless and should always, always be focused on our needs. Whatever I am doing for myself (obviously provided that I’m not violating anyone else) is valid and important, because I am important.

Resistance can be making a zine, recognizing our needs and limits and asserting them, talking to friends, calling people out, making tinctures, playing music, political organizing, insurrecting, sewing, having rad consensual sex, creating, hanging out with animals, educating ourselves, guerrilla art, yada. So many of these intersect because resistance and self-care go hand-inhand. Self-care is subversive. Our culture expects for us to not take care of our needs in a selfaware, proactive manner. The systems of oppression thrive on our denial of our needs. Smash the state, know yourself, love yourself”

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list of references Bauman, Zygmunt (2007) ‘Out of Touch Together’ in Liquid Times: Living in an Age of Uncertainty. Cambridge, Polity Benjamin, Walter (1968) ‘The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction’, in Arendt, Hannah [ed] Illuminations. London, Fontana Berry, Vanessa (2010) ‘My own private underground: discovery and adventure in the zine world’ in Artlink, Vol 30 Issue 2 Bigge, Ryan (2011) ‘Indie Won. Now What?’ in Broken Pencil Issue 49 <http://www.brokenpencil.com/features/indie-won-now-what> accessed 24 April 2012 Boellstorff, Tom (2004) ‘Zines and Zones of Desire: Mass-Mediated Love, National Romance, and Sexual Citizenship in Gay Indonesia’ in The Journal of Asian Studies, Vol 63 Issue 2 Bourdieu, Pierre (1984) Distinction: a social critique of the judgment of taste. London, Routledge & Kegan Paul Brager, Jenna & Sailor, Jami [ed.] (2010) Archiving the Underground #1 Campbell, Mel (2009) 'CANVAS' in The Age Clark, Hilary (2008) ‘Photocopied Politics: Zines (re)Produce a New Activist Culture’ in Broken Pencil Issue 6 <http://www.brokenpencil.com/features/photocopiedpolitics> accessed 24 April 2012 Commentz, Sonja (2011) ‘Preface: Show Me Yours, I’ll Show You Mine’ in Klanten, Robert; Mollard, Adeline & Hübner, Matthias [ed] Behind the Zines: SelfPublishing Culture. Berlin, Gestalten press Congdon, Kristin & Blandy, Doug (2003) ‘Zinesters in the Classroom: Using Zines to Teach about Postmodernism and the Communication of Ideas’ in Art Education, Vol 56 Issue 3 Culton, Kenneth (2007) ‘From Zines to the Internet: An Exploration of Communication Practices in a DiY Punk Scene’ presented at The Annual Meeting of the American Sociological Association

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Cutler, Terry (2005) ‘Australia's creative class’: Adapted from foreword to Richard Florida's The Rise of the Creative Class and from a speech to Sydney's Union Club in 2004 in Australian Chief Executive, May edition D, Emma (2011) ‘Submissions/FAQ’ for Take Care Zine Distro <http://takecarezines.org/music-and-video/submissions> accessed 3 February 2012 Dodger, Artful (1995) ‘Subculture: The Meaning of Style’ in Critical Quarterly, Vol 32 issue 2 Duncan, Barbara Jean (2005) 'Bust.com and new technologies of literacy: A study of a maga/ zine and its website', unpublished thesis, University of Illinois at UrbanaChampaign Duncombe, Stephen (1996) Notes from the underground: Zines and the politics of underground culture. New York, Verso Florida, Richard (2002) The Rise of the Creative Class. New York, Basic Books Freedman, Jenna (2009) 'Grrrl Zines in the Library' in Signs, Vol 3 Issue 1 Haylock, Brad (2011) ‘Beyond D.I.Y.—on Risography and publishing-as-practice’, Department of Design, Faculty of Art and Design, Monash University Hebdige, Dick (1979) Subculture: the meaning of style. London, Methuen & Co Jenkins, Henry (1992) Textual Poachers: Television Fans & Participatory Culture. New York, Routledge Labarre, Suzanne (2012) ‘Did The Internet Kill Zines? Not At All’ in Co.Design <http://www.fastcodesign.com/1669167/did-the-internet-kill-zines-not-at-all> accessed 19 March 2012 Leventhal, Anna (2007) ‘Imperfect Bound: Zines, Materiality, and the question of Preserving Ephemera’, Canadian Association for the Study of Book Culture, Saskatoon, Saskatchwan Lymn, Jessie (2008) ‘The Octapod Zine Collection: Developing a preservation and access strategy’, University of Technology Sydney McAuliffe, Chris (2004) ‘Selling secret lives: subcultures and cultural vitality’ in Overland, No 174, Autumn McLaughlin, Thomas (1996) ‘Criticism in the Zines: Vernacular Theory and Popular Culture’ in Street Smarts and Critical Theory: Listening to the Vernacular.

University of Wisconsin Press

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Margolin, Victor (2003) ‘The Designer as Producer: Working Outside Mainstream Manufacturing’ in Heller & Vienne [ed.] Citizen Designer: perspectives on design responsibility. New York, Allworth Press Markusen, Ann (2006) ‘Urban Development and the Politics of the Creative Class’ in Environment and Planning A, Vol 38 Issue 1 Mordek, Erika (2011) ‘Zinesters of the world: no happy stapling or rubber bands please’ in Behind the Scenes for National Library of Australia. <http://blogs.nla.gov.au/behind-the-scenes/2011/11/07/zinesters-of-theworld-no-happy-stapling-or-rubber-bands-please> accessed 11 November 2011 Newman, Michael (2009) ‘Indie Culture: In Pursuit of the Authentic Autonomous Alternative’ in Cinema Journal, Spring 2009, Vol 48 Issue 3 Neyfakh, Leon (2011) ‘The rise of punkademia: How do you study a movement that doesn’t want to be studied?’ in The Boston Globe <http://www.bostonglobe.com/ideas/2011/11/05/the-risepunkademia/zVtXDJT5WJt0mzejttS1gI/story.html> accessed 11 November 2011 Poletti, Anna (2005) Intimate ephemera: an investigation of life narratives in Australian zines. Melbourne, Melbourne University Press Poletti, Anna (2006) ‘A People's History of Australian Zines’ in Sheltered Lives, Heat 11 Spencer, Amy (2005) DIY: the rise of lo-fi culture. London, Marion Boyars Publishers) Talbot, Margaret (2012) ‘Stumptown Girl: An indie-rock star satirizes hipster culture, on Portlandia’ in New Yorker <http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2012/01/02/120102fa_fact_talbot > accessed 13 March 2012 Trethewey, Laura (2012) ‘Zines vs Art’ in Broken Pencil Issue 54 <http://www.brokenpencil.com/news/zine-vs-art> accessed 24 April 2012 Triggs, Teal (2006) ‘Scissors and Glue: Punk Fanzines and the Creation of a DIY Aesthetic’ in Journal of Design History Vol 19 Issue 1 Triggs, Teal (2010) Fanzines, Chronicle Books Watanabe, Akiko (2011) interview in Chiew, Mieke [ed] Higher Arc #1 Westover, Tara (2008) ‘The grrrls are all write: The role of Zines in third-wave feminism’, unpublished thesis, Carleton University, Canada Worth, Liz (2010) ‘Despite What You’ve Heard, Zines Aren’t Dead’ in Broken Pencil Issue 50 <http://www.brokenpencil.com/features/despite-what-youve-heardzines-arent-dead> accessed 24 April 2012

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Wortham, Jenna (2011) ‘Raised on the Web, but Liking a Little Ink’ in The New York Times <http://www.nytimes.com/2011/10/23/business/media/zines-have-aresurgence-among-the-web-savvy.html> accessed 11 November 2011 Wright, Frederick (2001) ‘From zines to ezines: Electronic publishing and the literary underground’, unpublished thesis, Kent State University Yorke, Chris (2000) ‘Zines Are Dead: The Six Deadly Sins That Killed Zinery’ in Broken Pencil Issue 12 <http://www.brokenpencil.com/uncategorized/zines-are-dead2> accessed 24 April 2012 Zobl, Elke (2009) ‘Cultural Production, Transnational Networking, and Critical Reflection in Feminist Zines’ in Signs: Journal of Women in Culture & Society, Vol 35 Issue 1 Zukin, Sharon (1987) ‘Gentrification: Culture and Capital in the Urban Core’ in Annual Review of Sociology, Vol 13 Zukin, Sharon (1989) Loft Living: Culture and Capital in Urban Change. Baltimore, John Hopkins University Press Zukin, Sharon (2011) ‘Reconstructing the authenticity of place’ in Theory and Society, Vol 40 Issue 2

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