Jamie Straw interviewed Jess Meoni and Max Barnewitz for Electric Squeak about their experience organizing zine festivals in Scranton, Pennsylvania and Salt Lake City, Utah.

JS: When did you first realize you had an interest in organizing?

JM: I had been a fan of a lot of riot grrrl bands, like Bikini Kill and Bratmobile. I saw that Allison Wolfe from Bratmobile put together this festival called Ladyfest, and I was like, “What is this? I want to do it.” That’s what got me into organizing.


MB: The first Grid Zine Fest, which is Salt Lake City’s zine festival was in 2017. In 2018, I saw that they were doing a call for organizers for the festival. I had just finished my master’s degree, which had focused on comics, and so I thought this would be a great way to get involved with the local comics and creative community.


JS: What is the learning curve like?

MB: The learning curve is pretty steep for any kind of festival organizing. We usually try to have 5 or 6 people on our organizing committee. It’s never up to one singular person, so the challenges are met with total good times and bonding. 

The funding is challenging. You have to decide what the cost of tables are, and we want to make all of these things equitable, so we have to have a certain number of those tables be free. 

Then how do you balance those numbers as event spaces continue to get more expensive? That’s a challenge, too, but it’s an opportunity for some fun fundraisers. We have had Bingo nights in the past. This year, we had a Valentine’s Day Dance.


JM: So many learning curves. It is a brand new surprise every single time.  If you live in Scranton and you truly participate in the art and music scene here, you’ll know that there is this almost underground where there’s always things happening, but you have to look for it a little bit more. Zines are a part of that. 


I asked both organizers to walk me through the process of organizing an event from start to finish. This graphic represents their responses:

 
 

JS: What advice would you give to somebody who wants to start a festival in their hometown?

JM: Especially when starting out, I think it is just about being OK with jumping in the dark, and telling yourself that you don’t have all the answers, and you’re going to learn along the way. The whole thing is wanting to communicate with people, wanting to open people up to things that they may not know about or showcase these different types of art methods and different music that they aren’t exposed to as often. 

 
 

MB: I think it’s one of those things to remember, if you build it, they will come kind of scenario. My advice to people who want to start their own is think broadly and then find people who are interested in doing it with you. Even if someone has never made a zine before. I had not made a zine when I started organizing the zine festival. I had joked for a whole year that I was a total poser because I didn’t pronounce it correctly and I never made one, but then it has inspired my whole artistic direction. 


JS: Zine fairs often become spaces that attract radical people. What has it been like creating these kinds of spaces in more conservative areas?

JM: It reminds me of your choice with venues, especially. One time, we tried to do it at this banquet downtown, but it was affiliated with a church. They walked around and saw some of the art, and they were not happy. 

I don’t like to fully describe what all the content may be of the zines tabling there because I am afraid of that backlash. I generally try to say, “This is going to be an art event.” 

I try to find common ground. Maybe they don’t like one aspect, but they like the idea of people being able to express themselves, so maybe they’ll root for that. It’s very delicate. The other half of it, if you do realize that the person with the venue isn’t aligning with your values, that can also be a bad place for you. You have to watch with that stuff, too, because you don’t want people to question what you stand for.

As far as politics is concerned, I feel like there’s a lot of loud yelling on each side. There’s so much toxicity in the world right now. That does affect everything, even when it comes down to creating an event. 


MB: Salt Lake City is very interesting that way. We used to say that the right is so right that the left is really happening. There are people who are very conservative, and then there are people who are living amongst conservativism and really rebelling from it, and I think that’s our primary demographic.

It’s interesting because we do have people who are a little bit more conservative still participating in the festival, and that’s something I think we really value is this possibility for the exchange of ideas in a really safe and supportive environment.

Radical arts spaces are incredibly important in Salt Lake City. I think that having space to be authentic with ourselves is really important but at the same time, we want to make spaces where conversations can happen, so that we can help people understand why it is important to protect trans people and that Black lives do matter. Let’s talk about why that’s significant in our culture. It’s still a very conservative place, but the possibility for these niche art scenes to thrive is very rich.

 
 

JS: Finally, tell me about an experience that when you think about it, gives you warm fuzzies and motivates you to continue doing this work?

MB: There’s so many things. As part of the zine festival, we in the past have run lots of different outreach initiatives. Even throughout the pandemic, one of my co-organizers has continued to run a Teen Zine Team Group. They have consistently put out some really cute zines. They’re just the funniest and most creative group of people, and they’re just working really hard to find ways to express themselves as teens. Now, we’ve created a Teen Zine Team Table for them at the festival.

Seeing younger people participate is great. One of the years, we had a 12 year old and an 8 year old siblings participating, and they had a zine called “Different Kinds of Cats,” and that has been one of my favorite zines of all time. Then you get people who have been doing zines for forever. They have it all down, and they are excited to be there. It’s lovely. I love seeing people who come to zine fest who know each other from the zine scene, and they’re always excited to see each other. That exchange of community, the embodied community of zines is really great. 


JM: I met a zine maker at my first event. At the time, she was only 16. She was making this zine all about this illness she had with her kidneys. It was called “Minutes to Milleniums,” and I’ll never forget because I read it, and I thought, what an amazing writer! Later, I found out that she got a writing scholarship. It made me feel good that she had a home at the event, and she was able to cultivate that.

There’s stories like that where people feel unsure where they fit in, and that’s what I see zine fests are. They could be a mod podge of misfits or outsiders, which is in the face of a more conservative town. 

There’s some people that didn’t think their art was good enough to be anywhere else and maybe they found a table at your event, and maybe they’re able to experience that feeling that yes, you are good enough to be there. 

Keeping that close connection with the vendors that want to come back every year, those are highlights for me because you can see how their art grows. It’s fun to see what they end up doing in the future. Maybe they’re tabling at bigger events or maybe they’ve found a friend at an event, and they’re collaborating in some way. It’s always cool to see where each artist’s journey ends up going. 

Check out the artists and festivals here!

Max Barnewitz

Grid Zine Fest

Queer Spectra Arts Festival

Jess Meoni

NEPA Horror Film Festival and Zine Expo

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