On Saturday afternoon and evening the New Haven Zine Fest expanded beyond its usual Bradley Street Bicycle Co-Op location to the sidewalk outside, as well as other locations around East Rock, for artists and writers to share their zines, prints, creative activities, and more.
According to Zoe Jensen of Connectic*nt, one of the event organizers, they try to have a festival around every three months — “seasonally, and usually when an issue comes out.”
The event has gotten larger each time, and on Saturday there were 25 tables at three different locations — the Co-op, Never Ending Books, and Cultured Café — as well as trading stations where one could take a zine and leave a zine at East Rock Bakery, East Rock Coffee, and Atticus Market. The event happened from 12 p.m. to 5 p.m. with a short break, after which musical acts, added to the fest for the first time, performed at the Bradley Street Bike Co-op and Never Ending Books.
Kai Addae — a volunteer at the Co-op, one of the organizers of the event, and a musician whose band Kenicky Hicky performed later that night — said this time they were thrilled to have the three locations and the ability to be outside, which gave them “more capacity for vendors,” “able to accept everyone who applied.” Addae noted that there were not just more people attending for the first time, but also more people creating, and more opportunities for attendees to create themselves through workshops, screen printing, and cyanotyping.
“We’re breaking down the barrier between artists and consumer,” they added. They also hope the event encourages others to share their spaces with the community.
“My biggest hope is to inspire more spaces and collaborations,” they said. “The hardest thing is to find space. There are almost no smaller venues for artists, so coffee shops opening up for this was great.”
Jensen operated the Zine Fest screen printing station near the Connectc*nt table, where she also sold previously screen-printed merch for that zine. Addae helped over at the Co-op table, where a multitude of information was available about what they had to offer and where the cyanotype station was being housed. Inside the Co-op with several other vendors stood the artist silencio (a.k.a. Daniel Ramirez). This third co-organizer of the event was also vending for the first time, and was a representative of El Rincon de Papel (The Paper Corner), a collaborative resource in New Haven that helps BIPOC artists with creating paper-based media, supporting them by covering printing and material costs.
“We’re making art more of a community action by lowering the barriers,” Ramirez said.
He noted that co-organizing the event has given him a “different perspective,” seeing how much goes into it. “It’s very rewarding,” he said. “The community is happy to see what you’ve put out for them.”
Under strings of lights and a banner that said “we love you,” vendors and attendees of all ages chatted and connected. Coolers of free drinks stood at the front of the building. On the side of the building in Mulberry Jam — the small park next door — many were seated enjoying their drinks and perusing their new zines. There was a warm and joyful vibe in the air, interactions happening with the creation of new art and within the discussions about the creations and the creators themselves.
Many of the artists, like silencio and JiJi Wong of Divine Zine, had smaller zines they used as business cards of a sort, describing who they were and what they did. The Co-op also did this and volunteers at their table were more than happy to discuss their mission and goals.
“We’re open to everyone in New Haven,” said volunteer Aliyah Efotte.
“We’re trying to get as many people on bikes as possible,” added volunteer Alana Ceppetelli.
Another Co-op volunteer, Leah Clayton, was helping attendees with their cyanotype prints, created by placing objects on paper treated with UV reactive chemicals — “they’re totally safe,” she said — to sit in the sun for around 20 minutes, which makes them change color and results in a blue pigmented print.
Some artists offered other artistic pieces besides zines and prints, such as Mahogany Rich, who had jewelry for sale. Down the sidewalk, artist Mogwok (a.k.a. Ra Klein) had zines old and new with titles like Love Poems by a Teenage Goth, horse tales, and Magic 8 Ball, as well as prints and stickers. They used comics, journal entries, poems, and “stories and ideas from just living life,” saying they started drawing comics at age 12 and progressed over the years to blending multiple medias.
“Sometimes I think they only make sense to me,” they said, but they have found that when they share them, they find others who connect with their themes and stories.
Next to Mogwok, Divine Zine — which describes themselves as “an exploration of liberation theology, decolonial spirituality, morality, and humanity by the oppressed” — not only had a display of their own zines, but an area with free zines made by others that people could take even if they didn’t have any to trade. Wong said it was their third or fourth time at the festival and it was going well.
“It’s a good diverse group,” they said.
Alice Prael, organizer of the ongoing Zine Scene group that had just met that morning at Witch Bitch Thrift, said the scene was going strong and that there are always at least one or two more new people at each group she hosts.
“More people are getting involved, including some who never made anything or considered themselves a writer or creator,” they said. “Which is awesome.”
Prael lead a workshop at 3 p.m. at Never Ending Books, where four zine makers were vending outside. Wendy Natter of Danbury was offering each visitor her “speech”; she gave each of them a sheet with a description of not only what she did and why, but what a zine was, a card that had a link to her Facebook group Connecticut Zines, and a small bag that she told them to use to hold any one of the small zines she had displayed, which they could take for free.
“It makes me happy to give them away,” she said, also noting that her friend and neighbor for the event, leon noel, told her “zines aren’t supposed to be precious.” She has taken to sharing them for free and hoping that they are passed on to make others happy as well. With titles like Why the Long Face?, The Lemon Bar That Couldn’t, and Snackin Machines. she was making many visitors smile before they even read them.
On the other side of the entrance, zines by honeyboy (a.k.a. Madison Tom) and Sarah Michelle Elanaya — including one that was a collaboration between the two — were displayed. While honeyboy’s zines focused on the visuals, Elanaya’s focused on prose that was “personal” and “mental health reflective.” The two met last year, and Elenaya said she loved honeyboy’s visual art so much she asked them to do the art for her second zine, How to Accept Things As They Are. Both have made connections with those who have read their work.
Elanaya’s first zine, titled This is My Anti-Suicide Letter, has prompted discussions with those who pick it up. People have even hugged her after reading it.
“I’m really open about it. It makes a difference to share and be more open.”
Tom has had someone tear up while reading their work, even though they said they often “don’t say what it’s about.”
“I have my own reasons, she had her own,” they said. “But it was a real moment. I’m making something that really matters.”
Shared experiences, empathy, co-creation, and cooperation: they make a community grow and thrive. Zine Fest continues to prove this in more ways — and more spaces — than one.