The Bradley Street Bike Co-Op overflowed with glossy prints, eye-catching artwork, and colorful personalities for a Zine Fair that offered an opportunity for connection and collaboration, as well as a meeting ground for artists of all different mediums.
“The space is pretty malleable, and we really like to host events that bring the community together,” said Kai Addae, the facility organizer for the Zine Fair and a part of the zine, RAR New Haven.
Addae, along with the creators of the popular local zine Connectic*nt, organized Sunday’s fair at 138 Bradley St. to showcase talent through the flexible and effervescent medium of the zine. “People want to hear from different voices,” they said. “It’s amazing to see the vibrancy of different artists.”
That vibrancy illuminated the Co-Op, which swarmed with passersby reeled in by the bright wares of over twenty different artists. “Zines are one of the most malleable art forms,” said Zoe Jensen, a co-editor of Connectic*nt. “You can make a six page zine on one topic or you can make a fifty page zine that’s glossy.”
Both extremes were on display on Sunday. Some artists used the medium to share important messages and stories, such as Simone Hasselmo, a doctor who writes and illustrates a variety of comics on the subject of medicine. “It never occurred to me to turn my comics into zines until Zoe and Mar [Pelaez, the other co-editor of Connectic*nt] started the fair,” she said. Hasselmo has attended the fair for two years, and has accumulated a collection of zines that spanned the width of her entire table. The comics depict “stories from what I have seen during my training, stories of my grandfather’s training in Nazi Germany, and what it means to train to be a doctor in a time of global crisis.” She pointed to one of the zines, which discussed Covid, as an example.
Sarah Elanaya and Juliana W, respectively the writer and artist for their zine This is an Anti Suicide Letter, also concerned themselves with health. In their case, that meant mental health. “It’s a response to a suicide letter I wanted to write, about living with OCD and being queer,” said Elanaya. “Mental health and suicide are really important topics. I hope people won’t shy away from it.” Despite the grim nature of the subject, Elanaya wants the zine to represent a beacon of hope for readers. “It’s not about how sad I was or how much I was struggling,” Elanaya said. “It’s about how I overcame it.”
JiJi Wong and layout organizer Sid Hirschman, of the zine Divine, also used their art as a platform for larger issues. “Divine Zine explores spirituality, morality, and humanity for and by the oppressed,” read the accompanying notice to the artwork. “We refuse to be defined by Western morality, and we work to reclaim our inherent Diversity.” Wong and Hirschman set out to prove that social change could start with a pen and a piece of paper, and one small zine could spread a message across a community.
But not all the zines had political messages to convey. Sometimes, art could exist only for art’s sake. Kelly Gonzalez and Jackson Hadans-Pickles created Heartscraps, a composition of collages by Gonzalez, a collage artist, and Hadans-Pickles, her partner. “It’s about our love and our passion to create together,” said Gonzalez. Hadans-Pickles emphasized the importance of a physical product in the age of the internet: “When you make something, I think the knee jerk reaction is to post it, and I think there’s something nice about giving it to someone.”
Hadans-Pickles also showcased his solo zine, Plasticine Planet, full of photographs of creatures he sculpted out of clay. “It makes me happy,” he said. “I make it for people who feel the same way.”
Madison Tom is another artist who uses the zine as a form of bringing a little bit of levity and joy into the world. “I like that it can be about anything, it doesn’t have to be serious,” they said. Tom’s zines included Going Bananas, a zine about eating bananas, and “Can I Give You a Hug?” which displayed a variety of drawings of people hugging. The cover art featured the title written in the handwriting of nine of Tom’s friends, emphasizing the community and connection aspect of the piece.
Aly Maderson Quinlog is one artist who is deeply entrenched in the world of zines. They teach classes on the art form, and run Magik Press, a “selection of art-based zines made over the past four years.” Quinlog’s zines include miniaturized catalogs of their artwork. “It’s like a gallery you can put in your pocket,” they said. All of Quinlog’s zines are fundraisers, for programs that support causes like domestic violence survivors. “As an artist, I want to be part of a community,” they said. “That’s what zines are, an opportunity for community.”
Since 2017, Quinlog has run an installation called Unnamed Zine Library. Recently, they received a grant from the CT Office of the Arts to open the exhibit in New London. Unnamed Zine Library contains a collection of Quinlog’s zines, their own and those acquired from others, over the years, for people to leaf through and enjoy.
One stall at the fair didn’t have zines displayed. Khamani Harrison represented the KEY Bookstore, a technology platform that connects books to technology and the community. “We bring the bookstore to the people,” said Harrison. And the people were at Bradley Street Bike Co-Op, leafing through a collection of zines.
A zine fair, as it turns out, is all about community, social issues, and glossy, print-sized fun. Visitors to the fair left with stickers, new friends, and zines on everything from medical histories to clay animals. And it all fits perfectly into your back pocket.