Wednesday, April 17, 2024

Leonard Abrams, "¡Presente!"


Photo of Leonard recently, by Angie Sloan


Last night was un poco loco, sitting in a hotel in a beach town in Catalunya in the middle of the night, watching the live stream of the memorial for Leonard Abrams in faraway NYC. Despite the many absences of friends and influenced (those whom Leonard enabled), the event at the Bowery Poetry Club succeeded in evoking the spirit of our dear departed friend. I am sure a few cocktails helped those present. I wrote a text for the memorial, which I’ll shape up later, but for now I’m posting a text by Leonard himself.

In 2022, Howl gallery hosted a panel discussion for my book Art Worker, and Leonard spoke then. I found the text he read odd, but he rolled around to explain it at the end. His sudden death a year later was a shock to the Lower East Side creative community. He was a key figure, a linchpin there, a person who never ceased to engage with the recollections and continuations of that golden period in American art and culture which the the magazine he ran chronicled. Leonard’s passing in the spring of 2023 marked the unraveling of the first-hand knowledge of our bohemia.

“I still can’t believe he’s not here with us. It’s like a bird swooped down and carried him off.” – Bonny Finberg

The Broken-Open People
by Leonard Abrams
What I wanted to talk about today was the importance of breaking things open. One of the reasons there was so much creative activity going on in downtown New York in the 1970s and ‘80s is that there was a convergence of people that had been broken open in some way. And this allowed a lot of stuff to dribble out. It was the kind of thing we all find so interesting because the typical state of people and other living things is to cover up your brokenness so as to present an unblemished, impermeable exterior to the outside world so that the outside world would be less prone to destroying it. And we love looking at broken people because it saves us the hassle of being broken open ourselves at any given moment.
I’m not suggesting that these broken people were just dying to turn up in New York and show everyone their wounds. Perhaps it’s more likely that they thought they were doing a pretty good job of covering them up, but maybe their wounds were easier to see than before. So I’m saying that New York became a magnet for broken open people. Why? Well maybe it was because New York had gotten such a bad reputation that the broken people thought: Well, hey, I can’t make it any worse. Or maybe their brokenness caused them to look for a place in which it was easier to survive because so many people didn’t want to live there. Or maybe their brokenness caused them to see it as some kind of paradise instead of the godawful wreck that John Q. Public thought it was.
In any case, all these cracked, bleeding [inaudible] people came here to play out their lives in relative peace and anonymity. Or to make a project out of their brokenness, to use it as a starting point for some kind of narrative about the condition of all of us. Of course every good artist’s drive depends upon the kinds of wounds that tear the facade away from themselves and those around them.
Now this is not to imply that everybody making some kind of art in the inner city neighborhoods of New York came here with that purpose in mind. Some had nowhere else to go, and some were just born here. But ask yourself, what would make you climb over a barbed wire fence and risk electrocution and getting crushed to death just to write your name on a train? Or pull apart a 100 amp streetlight to power a block party sound system? Now if you calculate that the risk of not painting a train or throwing a party was worse than getting killed, you take it. That’s just common sense. Of course this works better with teenagers.
Pretty soon comes the unbroken people, or rather the ones who have hidden their cracks and breaks better, and have no interest in showing them to anyone else, but prefer building up layers of armor to displaying their soft spots. And these folks do a pretty good job of displacing the other ones. And this is when the party starts to end. By “party” I mean a real explosion of creativity and more than a little bit of bacchanalia, and chances are we won’t see anything like it for a while. Unless of course things fall apart again. I wouldn’t mind seeing that happen, but not everyone is with me on that one.
– recorded at Howl Happening Gallery, May 2022 by Stephen Zacks

LINKS

EV Grieve, April 4, 2023
RIP Leonard Abrams
https://evgrieve.com/2023/04/rip-leonard-abrams.html

Marc H. Miller, “Leonard Abrams (1954 – 2023): Remembering the Publisher of the East Village Eye”, April 6, 2023
https://gallery.98bowery.com/news/leonard-abrams-1954-2023-remembering-the-publisher-of-the-east-village-eye/

East Village Eye, 1979-1987 - Gallery 98
https://gallery.98bowery.com/exhibition/east-village-eye/

Leonard's East Village Eye website news section chronicles his continuous festive organizing around the community his magazine brought together
https://www.east-village-eye.com/news.html

Leonard's film "Quilombo Country" website
https://www.quilombofilm.com/
"We can't leave, because if we leave we could lose our land. So we have to stay in our place. If we leave to work, we lose the land. Because farmers from outside will come in and take the land." Sounds like NYC.

Via expatriate ex-Eye comrade Tony Heiberg -- "Here’s my tribute to my dear friend Leonard Abrams that will be shown tonight - along with many other testimonials - at his memorial in New York at the Bowery Poetry Club. I hadn’t intended to post this here but technical requirements meant it was necessary before I could send it on to Leonard’s sister, Bethany Haye". Tony's tribute did not play in NYC, but you can see it here --


Chris "Daze" Ellis, Club Amazon, MCNY, Martin Wong collection

Wednesday, April 3, 2024

Pichifest Speaks: Lifting the Lid on Spain’s Underground Zine Scene

Page of a Pichifest zine, 2021

An interview with the Pichifest crew, producers of a series of zine fests in unusual venues in Madrid. The Pichis are a non-hierarchical collective working outside of state institutions. In this interview they tell why they don’t ask for cultural subsidies, but follow the “DIY/DIWO ethos”. In a followup question, I asked them to describe the zine scene in Spain. They responded with a blizzard of info on festivals nationwide. I’ve tried to provide the hyperlinks in this text.


Back in November, I set up at the Pichifest fanzine festival at the squatted social center La Enrededera. I blogged about it, not here on my art-specific blog, but at my squatting blog “Occupations & Properties”. I was amazed that this non-political artistic event, crowded with ordinary folks, was taking place at an occupied resistant venue. It seemed like a crossover moment, and a revelation of a new underground.
I asked the Pichifest crew for an interview some time ago. Now the dynamic Madrid-based cultural animateurs have responded to my queries in perfect English.

Thanks so much for agreeing to this interview. I had such a fun time at your November ‘23 event at La Enrededera, even being on the periphery. It was clear that much more fun was had at the after-party, the talleres, etc. I have many questions to ask you guys, but first, can you describe your project in your own terms?

No problem, Alan, it's our pleasure. Glad you had a good time :)
Pichi Fest is an independent and self-managed fanzine festival that has been held in Madrid since 2017 in the Espacio Sociocultural Liberado Autogestionado Eko, with the latest edition in 2023 being held at Centro Social Okupado La Enredadera de Tetuán.


Around 50-odd [self-publishing] projects pass through each edition of Pichi Fest, which we choose giving priority to affordable prices, originality, and zine spirit. Our festival is transfeminist and anti-oppression. We try our best to provide a platform and a safer space overall for non-hegemonic/underrepresented groups and individuals, foster newcomer zinesters, and tackle accessibility issues. Our aim is to run the festival following a DIY/DIWO ethos as well: we are a non-profit, non-hierarchical collective operating with no official cultural funding or external financial support whatsoever. We try to run our events as low cost as possible and make them self-sustainable while not charging exhibitors for tabling and keeping admission totally free.
We also celebrate several other events throughout the year, such as:
“Mini Pichi”, a smaller, one-day festival where we give priority to new and local projects in a more intimate space. Past Mini Pichi editions have been held in Vaciador (now defunct) and Ateneo La Maliciosa.
“Pichi Cafés”, relaxed meetings to share fanzines, snacks, and good chats.
Workshops and talks related to the world of fanzines
We celebrated Pichi Fest 2023 on November 3-4th, and we are planning the next edition in October, as well as a series of zine-making workshops for this spring.

I run two blogs, “Occupations & Properties” mainly about squatting, and “Art Gangs” primarily about artists collectives. What thrilled me about the Pichifest project is that your group sits in the middle, equally at home in art and solidarity with the social movement of squatting. Can you explain why you have been holding your festival events in occupied spaces in Madrid? Other zine fests and artist book fairs have been in institutional venues. Why did you not try to go that way? Are you seeking public money to support your project? If not, why not?

We are not and will not be going the institutional route, as we believe that would compromise our core values, especially being completely independent and not having to pander to the prevailing political agendas or deal with any sort of cultural bureaucracy that we think doesn’t belong in the zine scene. We feel our festival should be as DIY as zines themselves and we’ll stick to that.
One of the ways Pichi Fest may deviate from other fellow festivals is that we try to focus mainly on zines, as opposed to a more broad interpretation of self-publishing and self-produced art. Actually we try to actively stay away from the idea of the zine as an art object but that’s a whole other discussion. Also, as an event, we don’t really have growth plans. Our aim is just to make the festival better but not necessarily bigger. Given that we often operate in squatted spaces, we would hate to act as involuntary gentrification agents while doing all this.


La Enrededera social center in Tetuan

We have to point out that we don’t always celebrate our events in occupied spaces. Past Mini Pichi editions have been held in Vaciador, a self-managed underground venue, and Ateneo La Maliciosa, an independent space with ties to several local social initiatives. And during the pandemic we put together La Ruta del Fanzine, which was held across several local bookstores. We have also hosted Pichi Cafés and talks at La Oveja Negra (a vegan tavern) and Fundación Anselmo Lorenzo, CNT’s archive library [CNT is the Spanish anarchist union]. Plus casual meetings aimed at zine-sharing in different open air parks, the Pichi Picnics.
We think our bottom-up approach ties in nicely with squatted social centres, initiatives that we stand for and are much needed in this city given the problem with the obscene rent prices, the amount of vacant housing and abandoned spaces, alienation and hyper-individualism and the subsequent demand for local cooperation.
We believe they can also act as spaces of resistance against lackluster, hegemonic, greedy and boring mainstream cultural offerings. Squatted spaces allow us a freedom we know we won’t find in other places. This of course presents its own problems, for example a lack of running water or the tables and chairs needed for all the stalls. But we have somehow made it work so far, and the feedback has always been positive despite the drawbacks.

Historically, dating back to some violent conflicts in the Amsterdam movement of the 1970s, squatters with cultural interests (artists, musicians, etc.), and activist squatters have often been in conflict, or at least have not had an easy time together. Politicals are suspicious of artists, and artists are exasperated with the politicals. Did you experience this kind of tension in your dealings with the assemblies at ESLA Eko and CSOA La Enredadera?
If you did not, maybe you can explain this new mood among artists and squatters in Madrid?


Not really, but we experienced what maybe was an echo of that tension when we were first starting. There was this preconceived notion from squatters that a zine and self-publishing event would mean self-employment and profit, and anti-capitalistic squatted spaces are of course strongly against that, at least if the potential gains are not in favor of a social cause. We took our time to explain that in zine culture the returns, if any, are mainly to sustain the production itself, that we were looking for projects and artists that adhere to that principle, and that content-wise we wanted to feature as many political and critical thinking zines as we could. During all these years we have hosted several projects that directly supported different social causes. It has always been a priority for us.


Crack! annual festival of comics-oriented artists’ zines in Rome, at the enormous squatted Forte Prenestino social center, 2023. The Pichis participated recently. This photo from a gallery of photos from one 10 years ago.

In general, our experience so far has been rewarding in every way to say the least. Some of us were not familiar at first with the squatted spaces in our own city and a whole new world opened. We have also brought in zinesters and fans that probably up until that point were just attending institutional events, and some squatters felt encouraged to get more into zines by coming into direct contact with a scene that thrives in Spain and moves through the network of graphic self-publishing fests.
We’d say the mood is shifting. Maybe it's because squatting has been persecuted and demonized in this city that these counter-cultural events can serve as a hint of what these spaces have to offer. But apparently in other squatted spaces they saw and still see zine events as self-employment, and we have heard stories of other festival organizers, past and present, that haven’t had the welcoming experience we had at El EKO or La Enredadera and had their proposals rejected.

Maybe you could spell out a little the "scene that thrives in Spain", and the "network of graphic self-publishing fests"?

There are several zine fests currently going on in Madrid: Autozine (our good pals who are also taking the non-institutional route), Fanzimad, Guindazine, the Feria de Fanzines events at La Maripepa or Periferia Silvestre in Alcalá de Henares.
[LINKS: @autozinefest on I'gm; doing stuff here early next month; fanzimad.com, festival just past; @guindazine on I'gm, late fall fair; "Feria de Fanzines" impulsed by @LibritosJenkins on Twtr/X; @periferiasilvestre on I'gm]
We’d also like to mention our local predecessors: MEA, which lasted for a run of 3 editions and had a remarkably anti-establishment and DIY philosophy that served as a huge inspiration for us, and last but not least the one-shot Breve Encuentro de Fanzines in 2017 put together by Bombas Para Desayunar and Aplasta Tus Gafas de Pasta which was the spark from where Pichi Fest was born.

[LINKS: MEA, meamaravilloso.blogspot.com; Breve Encuentro of 2017 https://web.archive.org/web/20170328120902/http://breveencuentrodefanzines.tk/; http://bombasparadesayunar.com/ (blog of Andrea Galaxina); https://aplastatusgafasdepasta.bandcamp.com/ (musical group, "smash your big pasty glasses", a signature of Spanish yuppies)]



As for the rest of the country, and just to name a few: Tenderete (Valencia) – the longest running graphic self-publishing event in Spain – Gutter Fest (Barcelona), Skisomic (Sevilla), Guillotina Festa (Donostia), Autobán (A Coruña), Vaia Vaia (Lugo), Turbo (Guadalajara), Nosotros Feriantes (Cuenca), Entropia (Málaga), Pliegue (Tenerife), Mallorzines (Mallorca)…

[LINKS: tenderetefestival.com/, January, website includes interviews with participants; @gutterfestival on I'gm, mid-May in BCN; @gutterfestival on I'gm & http://gutterfest.org/; skisomicfest.tumblr.com, Sevilla; @guillotina_festa on I'gm, Donostia, aka San Sebastián in Basque country; autoban.gal & @autobanbd on I'gm in A Coruña; @vaiavaia.lugo on I'gm in Lugo; @turbo_guadalajara in Guadalajara; Nosotros Feriantes amosa.es/actividades/eventos/159_nosotros-feriantes, Cuenca; Entropia in Málaga, @entropia.llll on I'gm; Pliegue in Tenerife, teatenerife.es/actividad/pliegue-6/2787; @mallorzinesfira on I'gm; and "dot" "dot" fucking "dot"!]

Before the pandemic we were reaching a point in which there was a zine festival in every province, or at least some small self-publishing market. Now a similar situation seems to be slowly developing again. Of course some fests just disappeared or are struggling to make a comeback. Such is the nature of these events, as they are mostly run by one individual or very few people, and burn out is common. However, new ones keep emerging. Zinemaking has a very infectious energy and the existence of festivals is a direct consequence.

That’s amazing. Actually, it’s rather overwhelming.

I wonder if you have any thoughts on the difference of the zine scene with say, the artists' book network of the 1970s (e.g., the NYC bookstore Printed Matter, Ulises Carrion’s shop in Amsterdam, etc.) that became institutionalized, grant funded, acaddemically collected, etc., and the countercultural media movement of the '60s in USA and '80s in Spain (e.g., Pepe Rivas Ajoblanco, et al.). Maybe that's too geeky historical.

We are sorry to say we lack the historical knowledge to give a proper answer, and besides, we feel we are very distanced from those examples both as a festival and as individuals. The Pichi Crew has grown over the years to become quite a diverse group, some of us are just too young to have had any direct exposure to such cultural moments. Others are Latin American immigrants in Spain, and we each have a different relationship with the arts, if any. As an organization we constitute a mixed background that is Spanish-speaking but doesn’t necessarily always look to the Spanish scene nor is solely influenced by it. The only common ground is that we met each other in this city and our shared love for zines. Sorry, at some point we had a zine historian that could have given a good reply but they are not in the house right now, hahaha.


Ulises Carrión at Other Books and So, Amsterdam, 1975-79. Courtesy: Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sofía, Madrid

However, we’re not strangers to the phenomenon of institutions co-opting the zine scene – zinesters seen as fodder to provide institutional events “content”, and people using zines merely as portfolio flex to try to get into the art world (something that apparently art schools have been pushing in the last few years). We won’t judge how anyone tries to make a living as an artist, but this is not our approach to zines nor is it something we want in our festival and the scene we are building. We also get a lot of submissions that are someone’s master’s thesis in the form of a zine, and many people that ask us questions as research for class papers, so definitely there seems to be a buzz around zines in art schools.
There’s also the topic you pointed out in your earlier email about a permanent space for zine related activity in Madrid – it is something that has been discussed and proposed several times in our circles – but rent is still the main problem. There are some ongoing zine archive initiatives both in the city and nearby, but it's hard for them to get established to the point of having a permanent space to check or borrow (there are notable exceptions, like Marcablanca or the Local Anarquista Magdalena). And as far as commercial spaces go, Madrid lacks something like Fatbottom Books in Barcelona, which also serves as a meeting point for zinesters and cartoonists.

[LINKS: La fanzinoteca de @lasosteniblealcala on I'gm; http://marcablanca.press/; https://localanarquistamagdalena.org/; https://fatbottombooks.com/]

Sure, zines have acquired a wider presence in the last few years, but zines are still usually found scattered in the least pleasant shelves of comic-book shops, alternative bookstores or anarchist spaces. They are never the main attraction.

About other questions you mention in the email, we think it would be especially interesting to talk about the possibility of a permanent space for zine-ifying in Madrid.
Thanks, and talk to you soon!
Gracias a vosotrxs!


Epilogue:
Clearly the zine scene in Spain is on fire.
From my perspective, there seems to be precious little room for independent non-commercial culture in this thoroughly neo-liberalized (and recently rather obviously corrupt) capitol city. Since the right-wing regained power in Madrid, watching the few bright spots fall away and be closed has been too depressing to blog. Moreover official Madrid culture has gotten really boring. The Pichifest is a bright spark of spirit in the gloom of this city.
Libros Mutantes, the Madrid Art Book Fair, will take place 26-28 April. That's cool; it's very crowded; it’s fun, and there was an open call. But it’s much more attuned to a normative “artists’ book” scene which the Pichis are at pains to disavow (curricula, grants, juries). Libros Mutantes is held in the administrated institutional space La Casa Encendida. (Few remember that the programs in that place were inspired early on by the late-'90s self-organized squatted social center El Laboratorio.)
For the most part, this elderly Anglo is seeing only two ends of the cultural spectrum, the institutional and the self-organized left. I got hip to the Pichis through following the okupa ESLA Eko’s activities. As the blizzardly rundown of Spanish zine fairs above makes clear, I simply did not get the memo.
It’s been some months since zine fever gripped me. I took positons in two festivals, one artistic and the other anarchist. “Tabling” fairs is a bunch of work for these old bones. But I love it. I love setting up my stuff, seeing other exhibitors, sitting and watching the browsing crowds. I love the ticklish engagement (or not) with a person looking closer, which might become a conversation, or just a “humph!”. Working a book table at a fair is something preciously real in our meat-starved screen-driven world.

LINKS

My blog post, “Art + Squat = Pichifest”
Tuesday, November 7, 2023
http://occuprop.blogspot.com/2023/11/art-squat-pichifest.html

Pichifest – @pichifest is everywhere – Tumblr, Instagram, "X", YouTube, podcast, woof!
See – https://linktr.ee/pichifest
(“link” what? Right.)

Espacio Sociocultural Liberado Autogestionado Eko
https://eslaeko.net/

Ateneo La Maliciosa
A meeting place run by Ecologistas en Acción de Madrid, Fundación de los Comunes and Traficantes de Sueños bookstore. They host regular events and classes.
https://ateneomaliciosa.net/

Ulises Carrión, 2016 exhibition at MNCARS, "Dear reader. Don’t read"
https://www.museoreinasofia.es/en/exhibitions/ulises-carrion

Exposición: “Ruptura, contestación y vitalismo (1974-1999)”; about the journal Ajoblanco and its times
https://www.ajoblanco.org/historico/exposicion-ruptura-contestacion-y-vitalismo-1974-1999-2-2

For links to the blizzard of zine fests referenced by the Pichis, see the text above. Most are on Instagram, so I’ve given the @hashtags only.