Zine Libraries:  Alternative Learning Centres with Couches
MICHELLE KAY

Visiting a zine library isn't like going to a conventional library.  You don't have to speak in hushed voices, you can bring in a hot beverage, sit on comfy couches, peruse independent, hard-to-find publications and meet other zine enthusiasts.  Toronto's Zine Library is housed in the Tiki Room at the TRANZAC, a community organization that promotes the arts, theatre and music.  The Tiki Room is not large or fancy, but it serves the purpose of providing a cozy place for people to gather and read zines or listen to readings.  Most zine libraries are more than just archives with dusty boxes but also act as meeting areas, hosting events, talks and workshops where artists, writers, activists, media critics and others can congregate to share ideas.

However, if you're already visiting the Toronto Reference Library, why not check out the zine library there?  Broken Pencil donates there zines to provide the bulk of this collection.  While the focus is on the Toronto zine scene, you will find other Canadian and international zines such as Montreal's Fish Piss.  The zines are neatly arranged in folders and are stored alphabetically by title.  They currently have about 700 zines, and if you need a break from your studies, it's conveniently located on the 4th floor of the library for your perusal.

According to Montreal's Bibliograph/e co-founder Anna Leventhal, "By having a place where zines are broadly accessable to the general public, there is a chance of maybe breaking down some of the barriers between media producers and media consumers."  It serves as a kind of "nexus for people who are interested in alternative media, original writing and weird art."  The Toronto Zine Library Collective's Tara Bursey likens zine libraries to political infoshops in that they "provide people with a venue for free information exchange and learning without interference or moderation.  Both are places that could be considered alternative learning centres or 'free schools.'"

Halifax's Anchor Archive is found in Sarah Evans' and Sonia Edworthy's living room in a detatched house in North Halifax on Roberts Street.  Evans states, "The purpose of the Anchor Archive- and I would guess most zine libraries- is to share zines, often a hidden and inaccessible type of publication, with anyone who is interested."  Anchor Archive also organizes zine fairs and since 2006, has been running artist/writer/zinemaker-in-residence programs where residents move into the backyard shed- which is cleaned out to hold a bed and a desk- for a few weeks or a month and work on projects, holding office hours during the library's open hours.  They are a great opportunity for collaboration and allow for out-of-towners as well as local folks a chance to work on a project while using the resources of Anchor Archive.  Past residents include Dennis Hale, Sarah Mangle, Jeff Miller and Sara Spike, and Iris Porter.

Zine libraries are mostly volunteer-run, recieving little funding except when supporters and organizers decide to pay for expenses out of their own pockets.  They are truely labours of love.  Says Evans, "Halifax has a real shortage of public spaces that are community-run, art-based, and when we moved in here, we decided that a zine library would be a good focal point for starting something.  There was always a lot of interest in zine fairs or workshops we were organizing."
Broken Pencil #35

Their Mission: Keeping the Zine Alive 
A new library is collecting the photocopied artifacts of do-it-yourself publishing

TABASSUM SIDDIQUI

Remember zines? The handmade, photocopied artifacts turned anyone with a particular interest or story to tell into a do-it-yourself publisher. A couple of young Torontonians are hoping people do recall zines fondly -- and not just as curios. They've collected more than 500 of them from the past decade or so and are housing the collection at the Tranzac Club, a somewhat dingy but warm clubhouse in the Annex.

Last fall, Ms. Sutherland posted on a local online indie-rock message board, stillepost.ca, looking for volunteers to help with the project and donate zines. Patrick Mooney, a 26-year-old librarian at the CBC, jumped at the idea. "I'd gone to library school to be a librarian and had always wanted to do something like that," Mr. Mooney says, "so I was really excited when Suzanne posted about the possibility."

This past October, Ms. Sutherland, Mr. Mooney and about half a dozen other volunteers moved their Toronto Zine Library, which numbered about 300 titles, into the Tranzac. (Originally a club for expatriate Australians and New Zealanders, it's now a de facto cultural centre for the Annex.) Their collection, which includes everything from tiny, ragged hand-drawn comic books to slightly more professional-looking full-colour works, isn't much to look at on the surface (a ragtag bunch of stapled sheafs of paper housed in little linen racks), but is impressive in its depth and reach. There's a wide variety of zines from the past 10 years or so organized by genre: lit zines, fanzines, comic zines, political zines, zines about sex, cultural and social issues.

"Zines have been a vital part of publishing and subcultural history for a long time," says Tara Bursey, 24, an artist and freelance illustrator who has been involved in local zine culture for the past decade and recently came aboard to help out with the library. Ms. Bursey donated about 150 zines she had collected over the years to the library, bringing its total to around 500.

Ms. Sutherland estimates that 60 per cent of the zines in the collection are Canadian, with most of those being local titles, while Ms. Bursey's donation of punk and feminist zines has upped the American quotient.

Ms. Sutherland, Mr. Mooney and Ms. Bursey are all active zinesters themselves -- Ms. Sutherland makes little "novelettes" of her short stories; Mr. Mooney's are also literature-based, while Ms. Bursey worked on the feminist/punk fanzine Poseur Girl for eight years ("a lifetime in the zine world") and now puts out art-based zines. The three are the Toronto Zine Library's main staffers, keeping the collection in order and answering questions at the Tranzac on Sundays from 1 to 3 p.m. They're mildly critical of other zine-related initiatives in the city, like the Toronto Public Library's collection at the Toronto Reference Library: It's difficult to access and not well curated, Mr. Mooney says.

So far, their zine library has only had a few fans drop by (though the collection is accessible at the club throughout the week as well). Ms, Sutherland is hoping to spread the word and to hold workshops, particularly for youth, about zine culture and how to make zines.

But does anyone still care? At a time when the Internet has made self-publishing much easier than labouring over bits of paper and a photocopier, interest in making and reading zines has waned in recent years. Even the zine library crew admit that the scene isn't what it used to be. "There aren't even many places left where you can buy zines," Ms. Bursey points out.

During their local heyday in the early 1990s, they were carried by retailers such as the now-defunct Tower Records, but today only a few independent bookstores and music shops offer a handful of titles. While most of the Toronto Zine Library's zines come from donations solicited online, from friends or gathered at zine fairs, Mr. Mooney also continues to buy a few new titles to add to the collection.

Lindsay Gibb, editor of Toronto-based Broken Pencil, a magazine devoted to zine culture, says zines may have gone down since their heyday, but that doesn't mean people aren't still busy cutting and pasting. "There is still more that one can do aesthetically with a zine than they can with a blog," she says. "Blogs don't have the same feeling as zines, so people continue to make zines for some of the same reasons that print magazines aren't switching over to the Web. Some people like to have a physical product to show for their efforts."  And, Ms. Bursey says, "the best thing about zines is that [they're] completely democratic. Anyone can make one, and they're cheap to make and distribute. The scene has sort of petered out, but it's definitely something worth preserving."

"The reason why people make zines doesn't change -- people are always going to feel the need to express themselves by creating something on their own," Ms. Sutherland adds. "I don't think that's an impulse that disappears, whether it's the nineties or 2030. And just as you don't have to be into alternative culture to enjoy comics, it's the same with zines. There's something for everyone."
Globe and Mail, December 9, 2006.

The Zine Scene:  Small Press Means (Big) Business
REBECCA LAZARENKO

Past decades may not have stood for low budget paperbacks masquerading as high art, but these days, small press publications are well known, widely read and an economically sound solution to starting a revolution - or simply getting one's voice heard.
"Zines are self-produced print publications, mostly photocopied and hand-assembled," said Tara Bursey, a volunteer collective member at the Toronto Zine Library.
"Their roots lie in Dada publications of the early 1900s, science-fiction fan magazines of the '30s and Beat chapbooks of the '50s and '60s."
Zines were a large part of the punk rock movement in the '70s and '80s, gaining notoriety in the early-to-mid '90s as a part of the grunge/punk revival. These days, zines are a participatory cultural art form with a dedicated following and an unmatched reputation of inciting societal and institutional change.
Zine fairs, such as Canzine and Cut N' Paste Toronto, as well as the Brampton Indie Arts festival and various small press conventions across the country have opened up to the idea of these rough and ready creations as a valid literary art form.
"Some of my favourite zines from our collection are more art-focused," said Bursey. "[They] involve hand-touches such as silk-screened covers, sketchbook excerpts and reproductions of drawings."
Patrick Mooney, another collective member, relates to the somewhat radical roots in which zine subculture was first instated.
"Some of my favourite zines include Cometbus, America? and Doris," said Mooney.
Aaron Elliot, creator of Cometbus, is a lyricist, drummer, self-proclaimed poet and "punk anthropologist" who produces his seminal punk rock zine out of pure passion. Despite the Internet invasion and blogging overload, Elliot has created a name for himself through his and other hardcopy publications for which he has written - including Absolutely Zippo and Tales of Blarg.
Although print publications are slowly falling to the wayside in a world of electronic communication, Bursey suggests the sometimes-painstaking creativity involved with small print press is part of the appeal and authenticity, whereas virtually anyone can create a Web site. She lists her favourites in terms of true artistry rather than out-there ideals.

"A few that come to mind are zines by Michael Comeau - a Toronto printmaker, and a zine called Thumbprint Biographies by his wife, Tara Azzopardi," said Bursey. "Both contain drawn and silk-screened elements."
"We recently acquired a zine called Old Weird America, in which the author recounts things that happened to her in her hometown of Detroit. All the stories are rather dark, and involve the poverty and extreme social conditions that some parts of Michigan are known for."
The cost of making a bi-monthly zine of a couple hundred copies is approximately $100, give or take the corners one cuts; however, the expression of self is priceless and, as the Toronto Zine collective suggests, worth the effort it entails.
"I would say that the most important thing," said Mooney, "is to just do it."
The Toronto Zine Library is located at the Tranzac club in Toronto. If you happen to be in Toronto, the collective encourages volunteers to work throughout the weekdays or 1-3 p.m. on Sundays.
The Brock Press, February 6, 2007.

Toronto Zine Library:  A Daydreamers Shangri-La
It's a bedraggled room, awash in various shades of brown, grey and old. Light seems reluctant to enter through the dingy, yellowing curtains, for fear of catching The Musties. The wallpaper is time-worn and peeling. Metal chairs, not unlike the kind found in elementary school cafeterias, are scattered haphazardly about. The lone, pitiful couch looks like it's gotten the daylights, and stuffing, beaten out of it.

But, in the corner, the one furthest from the entrance, lays treasure in all its shimmering, paperback glory. In a dozen-odd dollar store bins and baskets, hundreds of strokes-o'-geniuses, fanciful flights of inspiration and dreams of yesteryear find their home.

Independent media junkies, take note. Head-in-the-cloud dreamers, beware. Get ready to kiss your Sunday afternoons goodbye. This is the Toronto Zine Library.

Founded to provide Torontonians with an accessible and relevant source of independently published materials, the TZL boasts nearly 300 zines in its collection.

"The idea was conceived essentially through jealousy, as odd as that sounds," says Suzanne Sutherland, one of the TZL's founding members. "This time, one year ago, it struck me that many other major cities seemed to have some kind of zine library, and even Welland, Ontario, has a great collection. It didn't seem fair that Toronto was missing out."

Although Sutherland acknowledges the existence of a zine section at the Toronto Reference Library, she notes that it is poorly promoted and difficult to access.

"Our mission then became to create a more accessible, catalogued, and well-promoted collection of independently published materials," she explains.

Indeed, it is a decadent feast for the imagination. On the afternoon I visited, Canzine was taking place at the Gladstone (a bad idea to hit right after pay day, but that's another sorry story...). Thus, while the city's zinesters rubbed shoulders on Queen West, I got to peruse the collection in total, blissful solitude.

From the popular, including Fish Piss and Fist City, to the obscure--Moist Pony, anyone?--to perzines (that's personal zines, yo) that probably didn't make it past the first issue, the range of titles is broad and the topics never dull. Zines on the arts, music, politics, queer culture (and more!) all co-exist happily at the TZL. Of course, there is some pure and utter crap--one inspired chap decided to dedicate an entire page to writing out all the denominations of Canadian currency--there is something inherently intriguing about all the works.

What was the spark for a particular piece? What triggered the one-page zine, cut and folded into a paper puzzle of words? Who was she, this girl that published a 10-page declaration of love to the unsuspecting object of her affection? Did she ever work up the courage to approach him on their daily GO Train commute? Did romance ever blossom, or did she just let unrequited lust stew? What made a teenager think to document her namby-pamby summer in a smalltime Anytown? Did she think anyone would care? Did she ever think that someone, eight years later, would be sitting in cold, rundown room in Toronto, poring over her palm-sized adventures in black-and-white, wondering about her life today?

Many of the publishers and writers used only first names or pseudonyms, further fueling my curiosity surrounding the zine's creators. Who was the mysterious Stew Innit? What's Becky doing today? Where did Patrick end up?

The Library is run by a volunteer collective of 2.5 people--one member is often too busy to help--and can be found in the Tiki Room of the Tranzac Club on Sundays from 1:00 to 3:00pm. During these hours, there are volunteer staffers on hand to chat and answer any questions. The collection can also be viewed during non-library hours, provided that the space is not being otherwise occupied. Brief and uncertain windows of opportunities? Perhaps, but this is something the collective hopes to change in the future. For now, they just want to get the word out about the Library.

"Promotion is something we're still kind of floundering with," admits Sutherland. "I feel like I'm making up how to do a lot of this as I go along, so our methods haven't been the most effective so far."

Word-of-mouth is spreading, however, largely via the Internet. A booth at Canzine also served to further the cause of our zine-heroes, who are crossing their fingers for more visitors and, of course, more zines. Over the past year, the TZL has amassed 282 titles in its collection, but donations are, as always, highly encouraged and appreciated.

A self-described traveling library, the TZL is happy to bring its goods to schools, youth groups, fairs and the like in hopes of educating the community on the possibilities of independent publishing. All you need to do is ask (and maybe leave the nice folks a zine or two for their noble cause).

While it may not be everyone's cup of tea, for daydream lovers and woolgathering enthusiasts alike, this is a little slice of heaven.

BLOGTO, November 11, 2006.