Zines: A nuanced gateway for artists

Dynamic and culturally significant, artists have come together since the 1930’s to create zines for their niches

By: Melanie Nava Urribarri

(ArturoAez/PIXABAY).

Art has always been ever-changing. From the ancient civilizations carving stone statues, the paintings of the renaissance, to the digital work easily published on our various social media platforms, art has never been able to be defined as one thing. What has also varied greatly throughout history, is how artwork has been published and disseminated to audiences.

As described by the Art Gallery of Ontario, zines are generally non-commercial, non-professional publications created out of a community’s interests and passions and are often self-published.

Zines compile all sorts of art together, – from creative writing and poetry to illustrations and photography – and aren’t usually for profit, but rather exist to grant opportunities to unheard voices and artists of all levels.

Zines and zine culture have been around since the early 30s and have become the most accessible way for artists to collaborate with other artists and share their work widely. They originated from science fiction “fandoms,” defined as a community or subculture made of fans of a particular interest. According to Book Riot, the largest independent editorial book site in North America, the first zine was “a little publication called The Comet” created by the Science Correspondence Club. In 1947, the first ever queer fanzine was published.

Today, zines come from a wide variety of fandoms and other cultural communities around the world, bringing together artists of multiple backgrounds and experiences. Zines mean something different for all artists, making each project a unique experience for both its creators and those who get to bear witness to their creation.

“Zines are a way for me to connect with other creatives that love the same thing I do,” said Zabrinah Santiago, a freelance illustrator known as @itme.z on Instagram who has participated in over 20 zines since 2019.

“I don’t think I’d have gotten close to my current art style if it wasn’t for being in my first zine. Being surrounded by so many wonderful artists who were willing to give helpful advice heavily improved my art so much,” she added.

For some artists, it was friends that introduced them to zine culture.

“I first came across zines through friends. Zines allow me to push my skills with every new illustration…the books and merch seem surprisingly professional despite often being fan-made projects,” shared Instagram artist Mishii.

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For many others, fandoms linked them to the zine canon.

“I’ve been a part of fandom culture since my pre-teens, and to this day I love making a lot of fanart for my current obsessions,” said Lio Chan, an illustration student at Rhode Island School of Design that currently focuses on traditional and 2D digital art with different styles and compositions.

“Because of social media and dedicated zine blogs, I found out about several fandom-related zines and I immediately wanted to be a part of these community-based efforts to celebrate artists within fandoms,” he said. Chan adds that being surrounded by other content creators with the same niche interests helped him network and gain credibility as an up-and-coming artist.

The further he delved into zine-making, the more Chan ventured into topics such as other forms of art, history and the culture of self-published zines often based around social justice and identity.

While the first modern-concept of zines did reach the public in the 30s, many social-justice works and texts by various historical figures could be considered some of the earliest forms of zines – or at least ideas that the zine community now has built on.

For example, in 1895 during the French Revolution, French anarchist Sébastien Faure used the self-publishing practice to publish the issues of his newspaper Le Libertaire as a means of subversive political expression.

Toronto Grade 12 student and head of management of the zine The Brain Scramble Elisa Penha joined the zine community initially as a writer and photographer. By helping a friend who had been active in the zine community in Taiwan but was unfamiliar with the Canadian zine community resources, Penha said she was able to immerse herself in zine culture which she found so liberating, as artists were able to express themselves independently and with agency.

“I think it’s a really good way for marginalized communities to express their stories in physical means,” said Penha. “Because a lot of the time queer communities and POC communities, they don't get the chance to be part of larger publications just because of institutionalized discrimination all the time, no matter how talented they may be.”

“Zines are very much against that sort of system.”

As freeing as these collaborations and publications can be, some may find entering the zine scene to be a little daunting. Like entering any field of work, whether as a hobby or profession, it is always important to do your research while choosing a zine and community to collaborate with to make sure it's right for you.

“Recently, there has been some backlash in the online zine community, especially on Twitter,” said Chan. Chan attributes this to the commodification of zines by influential online artists, making zinemaking inaccessible. This creates “a standard of art when the concept of zinemaking is inherently against setting an art standard,” he says.

Chan gives the example of an event in which a zine moderator of an extremely popular online zine project was caught embezzling $80,000 from the project and spending it all gambling on a mobile game.

He adds that “even though non-fandom related zines continue to be impactful in their own communities, the sheer influence and money that some fandom-related zines are able to amass have led to inevitable standards that are placed to avoid huge disasters like this from happening again.”

But Chan still has hope for the zine community. While capitalistic undercurrents can be frustrating, the zine community is so large that the path to being part of a zine or self-publishing your own work does not have to be hindered by these poor experiences.

If you yourself are an artist interested in being a part of zine culture, Santiago shared three pieces of advice based off her experience on applying to zines:

1. Research moderators

2. Look for experience and age. Most issues that arise in zines are because of mishandling due to a mod’s inexperience in zines or working on large-scale group projects.

3. Don’t be discouraged if you get rejected from a zine. It does not ever mean your work isn’t good. There are lots of reasons to be rejected like your art style might not fit with the theme (i.e. hardcore edgy styles may not work super well with sweet family-centric zines.) Being rejected so many times helped me improve more or helped me build a skin that can tolerate bigger work rejections.

Write On! Write Now: How this literary open mic night is making its mark

The host of a weekly creative exhibition has designed a safe space for writers to express themselves

By: Zoie Karagiannis

Bampot House of Tea and Board Games is located on Harbord Street in Toronto. It’s the home of Write On! Write Now, a literary open mic hosted by Jen Frankel. (Mia Johnson/CanCulture) 

As an accomplished author, screenwriter and musician, Jen Frankel has a lot on her resume. She has written several novels spanning across all genres, including horror, fantasy, science fiction and the supernatural. Beyond her creative career, Frankel consistently aims to help people become better at their craft. She says her philosophy is to never put her own stamp on someone’s work or make anyone feel as though they’re having their voice taken away, but rather make suggestions that will help them get to their next draft. Frankel has been writing for about four decades, beginning seriously in her teens.

Most recently, she has become the creator and host of Write On! Write Now: Literary Open Mic Night in Toronto. Through this platform, writers are able to express their artistry in a safe environment.

At every weekly open mic, typically 10 to 20 creatives gather at the Bampot House of Tea and Board Games, a cozy teahouse with a Bohemian-like atmosphere and shelves-upon-shelves of board games to enjoy. From a senior Canadian sci-fi writer with a decades-long publishing record to a 19-year-old reading poetry for the first time, Frankel has seen artists from all different backgrounds.

At around 10-years-old, their youngest speaker Joseph read an excerpt with his mother, Alisse Lee Goldenberg, from a book they had written together. Titled Lucky at Bat, their creation is set to come out in December of 2022, and follows the story of a boy named Jack and his two rescue rats — one of whom has a talent for baseball. Goldenberg is the mother of triplets and a writer living in Toronto.

“Apparently he had so much fun he wants to come back!” Frankel says, laughing.

Since she was around 20-years-old, Frankel has been hosting literary open mics in whichever city she found herself in. She wanted to provide an outlet for people to demonstrate their creativity.

“I try to be very encouraging and welcoming because I don’t want people to feel like they're going to be critiqued,” Frankel said.

She began hosting Write On! Write Now events in late-April, starting bi-weekly and moving to every Tuesday from 7 p.m. to 9 p.m.

Jen Frankel also runs an online drop-in for writers, where once a week she is able to work on prompts and exercises, checking-in with fellow writers and interacting with them. (Courtesy of Jen Frankel)

Frankel says a lot of those who attend are university students who stumble across the open mics by accident. While some simply stay to listen, many have found the courage to go up and share their pieces.

Along with the skilled writers reading excerpts from their works, the Write On! Write Now stage has welcomed stand-up longform comedic monologues, scripts of screenwriters’ original soap operas and poems recited by artificial intelligence. Frankel fondly recounts intriguing poetry readings following the stream of consciousness of Lilith, a demonic figure of Mesopotamian mythology.

At the end of every performance, the room erupted in applause, the sense of support and community filling the air

The night I attended, I had the privilege of listening to a reading from The Face in the Marsh, a 2019 psychological thriller by Canadian author Elizabeth Hirst. As her pacing and tone set the scene, and as I held onto her every word, the twists and turns throughout the story had me constantly at the edge of my seat, awaiting and anticipating what was coming next.

The same night, I also listened to a first-time reader who had announced she was there to try public speaking and a man who had been presenting different chapters of his story every week. At the end of every performance, the room erupted in applause, the sense of support and community filling the air.

“It’s always transformative when you put work in another medium,” Frankel shared. “You learn a lot about your work as a writer if you speak it out loud – it can change entirely.”

She said that while you should write for yourself and not for others, knowing how different people will be impacted by your writing is valuable. Her open mics provide an opportunity to see how one’s stories can resonate with others.

Frankel believes young poets can benefit from hearing from more experienced writers — those who understand how to compose poetry by digging into the rhythm of their own words and the swings of their own phrases.

Through her open mics, she has fostered a built-in acceptance for the underrepresented voices and stories that don’t often get heard. She emphasizes the importance of showcasing and hearing from different perspectives; without representation, other writers and listeners may not feel acknowledged or welcomed.

“We’ve had some young poets who have come from Syria and the Middle East, and they have these lived experiences and are very active as human rights activists,” Frankel noted. “When they share them, you see those who were born in Canada become eye-opened, and you see the places where they recognize their own human experiences. I love seeing their responses.”

Frankel also understands that for many writers, platforms for getting their work out are not accessible to everyone. As someone with experience in the publishing industry, Frankel tries her best to promote websites and databases of publishers and agents to those who want to pursue a career in writing or get a story published. She always wants to make sure people feel their voices are strengthened and embraced.

“No one as a writer is in competition with anyone else. We all have our own ideas and our own voice,” Frankel said.  

Frankel also hosts a Hamilton Literary Open Mic for Keeping Six, an established harm-reduction organization that advocates for the rights of people who use drugs. There, writers with lived experience or knowledge of substance abuse, or who simply know someone who's been affected, are able to present their work. She hopes to start a second Write On! Write Now in Hamilton, the place she calls home.

Pongapalooza: Ping-pong players rally in support of children’s literacy

First Book Canada’s ninth annual ping-pong fundraiser returns in all its pong-tacular glory to promote higher education and literacy access for children

By:  Anna-Giselle Funes-Eng

Teams Pongflict and Double Double (left to right) face off at Pongapalooza in Toronto, on Nov. 8, 2022. (Anna-Giselle Funes-Eng/Canculture)

Neon-orange ping-pong balls whirl around the room at lightning speed as triumphant cheers break out. In an epic table-top battle, teams duke it out at Pongapalooza, First Book Canada’s ninth annual charity event, competing in high-stakes games to fight for equal access to educational resources for children.

Taking place at SPiN Toronto on Nov. 8, this was the first tournament held in-person since 2019. It had open tables for rounds of ping pong, donate-to-play side games, a silent auction and even a ping pong-themed craft table lined with tubes of glitter glue. The room was buzzing with energy as ping-pong players went all-in, diving with paddles outstretched to return the rally.

"The best thing about this event is that it's all for fun," said Tom Best, former executive director of First Book Canada who helped originate the event back in 2012.

Over 10 teams competed this year, with some dressing in group costumes to win more prizes, including signed books from featured authors. Teachers from Lord Dufferin Public School competed in full Toronto Raptor’s gear, with one woman donning an inflatable T-Rex costume. For their excellence in costuming, they ended their night with arms full of gift baskets and the title of best dressed.

It was RBC Capital Markets, though, who walked away as the reigning Pongapalooza 2022 champs. The bank bros of the boardroom conquered until the end, and kept their trophy they first won in 2019. 

The two-time reigning champions, RBC Capital Markets, maintain their ping-pong master status at Pongapalooza in Toronto on Nov. 8, 2022. (Anna-Giselle Funes-Eng/Canculture)

The event has been a major component in First Book Canada’s fundraising, having raised $280,000 since 2012, according to their website. The funds go towards providing under-served children with books, school supplies, winter coats and more.

Since the beginning of the pandemic, pre-existing educational disparities have worsened, according to Heather Farquharson, the current executive director at First Book Canada. She said there is an increased need for educational resources to ensure all children have equal access when more than one-third of kids in Canadian public schools come from low-income households.

“Our work is even more important with the learning loss than it ever has been,” said Farquharson.

According to First Book Canada, almost 25 per cent of Canadian households don’t have a single book. Their work aims to reduce that number, and they say they have already provided over seven million books and other resources to those who need them. Through partnering with smaller educational organizations across the country, they are able to reach hundreds of thousands of children.

One of those organizations is Books With Wings, an entirely volunteer-run organization that provides children on remote Indigenous reserves with books, connecting with them through letters. Thanks in part to their partnership with First Book Canada, they have been able to send new books to at least 1,200 children since they began 10 years ago, according to founder Anna Rosner.

“Books offer a world to children that they might not otherwise have access to,” Rosner said. “With an education, there’s a much better chance the child will be able to eventually see the world and experience it the way he or she wants to.”

Creating educational equity makes room for children to dream, Rosner said.

Instilling a life-long love for reading begins at a young age, as both Books with Wings and First Book Canada believe. While ping-pong may have been all about the serves, the money raised will continue to serve children and close educational gaps across the country to ensure that all children have the chance to learn and thrive.

Healing as an act of resistance: Reclaiming ourselves through art

Living Hyphen launches its third magazine issue, ‘Healing Across Generations’

By: Anna-Giselle Funes-Eng

Jocelyn Yu speaks about her experience watching Living Hyphen grow at Page One Café in Toronto, on Oct. 28, 2022. (Anna-Giselle Funes-Eng/Canculture)

Content Warning: This piece discusses generational trauma.

There is an ever-present longing for what has been taken away and left behind that Canadian immigrants and people who have experienced displacement know well. It runs deep through generations, and many of them turn to art as a healer and outlet. The voices of those Black, Indigenous and peoples of colour (BIPOC), whose “home” is somewhere in between cultures, often go unheard and grossly underrepresented.

Living Hyphen is a community that serves as a safe space for those voices and seeks to nurture and amplify them through its writing workshops and literary magazine. Their third printed publication, “Healing Across Generations” was released on Oct. 28. It features 60 pieces of prose, poetry, short stories and photography.

The launch was marked with a party at Page One Café near the Toronto Metropolitan University campus, where I got the chance to speak to founder Justine Abigail Yu, who launched Living Hyphen with its first magazine issue in 2018.

Yu said she created Living Hyphen to bridge the gap between the lack of mainstream representation of everyday immigrant and BIPOC stories and the many people looking to share their experiences. For this edition alone, they received around 800 submissions, according to Yu.

“There are people out there who need that extra push, that nurturing, because our society has not nurtured Indigenous, Black and racialized writers and storytellers ... honestly, that’s been the drive for me,” Yu expressed.

Justine’s mother, Jocelyn Yu, known affectionately in the community as Mama Yu, is Living Hyphen’s publisher, investor and self-proclaimed “Money Mama.”

Mama Yu said that through growing Living Hyphen along with her daughter, she has learned and unlearned so much. It has brought her peace in her journey of healing.

“I’ve always believed that healing is not possible unless you know the past,” Mama Yu said.

There is an ever-present longing for what has been taken away and left behind that Canadian immigrants and people who have experienced displacement know well

Many of the featured artists focused not only on the hurt of having to leave home, but the disconnect from the culture that comes with it.

May Lui, a contributor for Living Hyphen, explored searching for healing in connection in her piece. She wrote about her two grandmothers and reconciling with the Chinese grandmother she never knew.

For Lui, writing about her experience with loss and hearing of others' similar journeys through platforms like Living Hyphen, has been a source of healing.

“You heal through time, you heal through talking about it, you absolutely heal through writing,” Lui said.

Jen Phuong Tran, a Toronto based artist and ceramist, reads her piece “Roots” at Page One Cafe in Toronto, on Oct. 28, 2022. (Anna-Giselle Funes-Eng/Canculture) 

As someone who identifies as BIPOC and biracial, I’ve always identified with both sides of myself culturally, but have never felt fully connected or seen.

I don’t often see myself reflected in the people around me or in the stories I’ve read. I don’t speak Cantonese or Spanish and it’s always been hard for me to communicate and connect with my family. I’ve always felt split down the middle. I grew up feeling as though I existed somewhere liminal: in the indeterminable in-between of my cultures. It is rare to see myself represented.

As I stood surrounded by people sharing their stories of healing out loud, I finally felt heard. I used to think I was alone in those experiences.

Representation in art serves as a powerful reminder that no one is alone.

The trauma of generational hurt can be reclaimed as something that fosters community as we set out to heal. Searching for parts of ourselves that have been lost to upheaval and oppression; reclaiming that power is a resistance to every and any force that would set out to keep us silent. 

Community in vulnerability: Celebrating intergenerational stories in Generation Women Canada launch

Women from across generations share insightful stories about their ever-changing relationship with their bodies

By: Natalie Vilkoff

Speakers and organizers of Generation Women Canada on stage at The Lounge at Live Nation in Toronto. (Courtesy of @generation_women_ca via Instagram)

This article contains mentions of sexual assault.

Six women of six different generations shared their stories about their relationships with their bodies in an honest and touching night of performances — the first night of many to come.

‘Flesh and Bone: Stories About the Female Body,’ was the theme of the Oct. 18 launch of Generation Women Canada, a storytelling event that began in New York City, to create a space for women to feel “validated, respected, and seen,” according to the Generation Women Canada website.

“I really wanted to highlight intergenerational storytelling, especially women's voices,” said Jennifer Baxendale, the host and producer of the launch.

Baxendale and her producing partner Kirstin Turnbull saw a Generation Women show in 2020. They were so inspired by it that they signed up to bring it to Canada. She added that she wanted it to be a space where women can connect and learn from one another, despite differences in age and background.

Karen Cleveland, a Toronto-based marketing strategist and writer, was the speaker representing team 40s.

“When you get a group of women together, something special always happens,” said Cleveland. “And that was the appeal for me: being alongside such an interesting group of women that I probably would never otherwise be in the same room with.”

Cleveland added the most valuable thing for her was being able to hear from a collective of diverse women — from their identity to their race to their age, each woman had a story to share that was shaped by their lived experiences.

“That's the real magic of the event: bringing together different voices across different generations and celebrating their experience,” she added.

Mental health advocate and public speaker Ghanwa Shahnawaz, who represented the 20s, said that she felt so nervous she wanted to bolt from the stage — but once she started talking, she was glad to have the space to share her story.

On stage, Shahnawaz shared her experience of sexual assault as a young girl, and how it took her years to figure out what her body meant to her.

“What I hope people will take away from it is not just my relationship with my body, but also to know that you're not in it alone, that there are other survivors out there,” she said.

Shahnawaz added that it was different from sharing stories on her Instagram where she only goes as far as she’s comfortable. “This really required me to be out of my comfort zone. It’s very different when you have everyone sitting in front of you,” she explained.

While preparing her speech, Shahnawaz said that she was thinking of her younger self. She added that she had a picture of herself in elementary school next to her as she was writing.

“I think if Grade 3 Ghanwa was sitting in the audience hearing that, I would have felt a huge burden lifted off my shoulders, and I wouldn’t have blamed myself for years,” she said. “My whole story would be different.” 

Despite the uncertainty she felt about sharing a subject as personal as her body, Shahnawaz said that sharing her story in front of a supportive audience brought her a sense of calm.

“I felt empowered, I felt relieved, and I felt a bit more healed,” she said.

The next Generation Women theme is ‘Promises Made, Promises Broken’ and will take place on Jan. 24. After such a successful launch, Baxendale said she plans to keep the show running in Toronto and hopes to take it to other major Canadian cities.