subterranean media for the subaltern
For those uninitiated to ten-year-solid Melbourne zine institution Sticky's (which is, hazarding a guess, most of my illustrious readers), I'm posting my newsletter columns on underground media from Iraq & Turkey, because wow, I'm fucking shit at following through on correspondence from those corners! If you want to receive this info in [closerto]realtime you can sign up at their website.
FROM OUR [OTHER] CANBERRA CORRESPONDENT IN KURDISTAN, By Project Bridget
Salam alaykom zinesters,
The first bookshop I walked in to in Iraqi Kurdistan, the guy handed me a zine.
A fat DIY Kurdish-English phrasebook, covering everything from ordering breakfast to going in to surgery. I eagerly slap down my 6,000 Iraqi dinars on the counter. Let's try a few, shall we?
Min xelki Kurdistanim - I'm from Kurdistan
Heta malewe bitgeyenim? - May I take you home?
Le companyay maykirosaft dam - I'm with Microsoft
Nimune xiwen/miz-i tom dewe - I want a specimen of your blood/urine
The extra exciting thing about Kurdish print media is getting it at all - particularly in Turkish Kurdistan, where the very existence of the Kurdish language was officially outlawed until its grudging repeal in 2004 at the height of Turkey's “let's be friends!” EU courtship. Prior to this, Kurdish names containing the letters X, W and Q (which aren't part of the Turkish alphabet and thus - zomg!! Threat to national identity! - were forbidden, in some cases names even forcibly changed by The Man himself).
While the past 40 years has seen a renaissance of Turkish Kurdish diaspora literature from the safe havens of Europe, Kurds in Turkey have not had that opportunity. A few weeks ago in Diyarbakir, the unofficial capital of Turkish Kurdistan, boys who had already weathered their compulsory military service for a country that has never belonged to them (and was indeed responsible for the demolition of 3,500 Kurdish villages in eastern Turkey) lovingly showcased for me their small collection of the at last-growing body of homegrown Kurdish literature.
Soviet provision of a printing press allowed Iranian Kurds to start pumping out journals from the late 1940s. In Iraq, revolutionary Peshmerga (literally “he who faces death”) fighters established pirate radio stations to broadcast messages of resistance throughout the 1980s. If station operators were caught, they faced death on charges of treason.
While Iraqi Kurds have generally enjoyed greater linguistic (at least) liberties than their Turkish sisters and brothers, the same probs can't be boasted for the infantile democracy of the semi-autonomous Kurdish Regional Government of Iraq, the mountainous lands in the north I'm currently calling home. Take for example 23 year old Sardasht Osman, who turned up dead in Mosul last May after the publication of his blistering poem I'm in love with Barzani's daughter through underground Swedish-based hate-machine KurdistanPost.com. (Massoud Barzani, for the uninitiated, is Mr. Prez of the KRG & head honcho of the ruling Kurdistan Democratic Party)
Graffiti has a long history in the Middle East as the newspaper of the street. In Palestine an Israeli military law was introduced in the 1980s for the sole purpose of crackdown on those for whom it was the medium of choice to mobilize the masses during the First Intifada. Wandering down the streets of Sulaimani, Iraqi K-stan meanwhile, I'm torn between amusement and dismay when a Peshmerga tries to tell me it's forbidden to photograph the Che Guevara mural I've got my camera honed on.
Contemporary Kurdish underground media, like so many others, has largely cast off print media and succumbed to the trappings of Modern Technology (oh!). TV stations that would be outlawed within minutes of airtime continue to beam down on the thousands of satellite dishes that dot the skyline of greater Kurdistan, with tidings of self-expression that may allude Kurds in their homeland. Facebook, Twitter and the blogosphere join the fray.
Which makes my Kurdish On Trip acquisition all the more spesh, I reckon. Bashi! If any of this sounds remotely like something you'd dig reading a zine on, keep an eye out for me upcoming All My Friends Are Mountains, burrowing its way through the stratosphere to an illustrious Melbourne proprietor near you.
Keep it surreal,
Project Bridget
FROM OUR [OTHER] CANBERRA CORRESPONDENT IN TURKEY, also By Project Bridget
If you are as tingly as I am at the thought of a non(anti?)-Occident zinescene to sink yon teef into, you'll probably be chuffed to hear zines are alive & kicking in Turkey.
I spent a week in Istanbul on the way home from Iraq. This heaving metropolis is one of those find-anything places - as loathe as I am to pull up trite “between two worlds” phrases, in Istanbul it's all you can do to fend em off. We stayed with an awesome couple that my boyfriend interviewed last year for his book on anarchism across five continents (“Von Jakarta bis Johannesburg: Anarchismus Weltwide”, in case any of youse speak Deutsch), who took us for a totally enjoyable afternoon burrowing through hidden shelves in pokey little bookshops on the Anatolian side of the city, & turned up a few zine treasures. Fortunately Turkish zines seem pretty big on visuals so I was able to appreciate them aesthetically, if not linguistically. I emailed the authors to hassle them for more info. Below is an interview with Volkan of Alternatif zine from Istanbul.
Can you give us a bite-sized history of the Turkish zine scene?
We think it started in later 80's. First zines were political (socialist, anarchist and greens). Then after 90 some groups made zines about literature they were trying to write in interesting styles (underground culture). So, big magazines and publishing house not interested in their works. So they realised this : do it your self.
How long has your zine Alternatif been going for? How did it start?
We started it in April 2009. Beetween 2007-2010 I was in Istanbul University (economy). Me and my friends got some problem with school...academicians, stupid students, politics ..
For example; too many students think when they graduate from shcool, they will be CEO in a company... They dont know how many unemployed young who finish college..(%12 in TR) So we tried to wake up them , in their sweet dreams. Then I said my ideas to my friends : HEY LETS MADE A ZINE.
Is independent print media falling victim to the blogosphere/social media/intarweb behemoth in Turkey, like so many other countries?
Unfortunately yes. Fucking conformism.
Most of the Turkish zines I've picked up seem of the good ole punk/political variety. Are there perzines, art zines, DIY zines, anything-else-zines out there I just haven't found yet?
Sure. The problem is distribution channels. So its normal some fanzines, you cant find them in bookshops...There is too many kind of fanzines in Turkey. But if you are foreign, finding zine's is hard for you :)
It seems like most zinesters here are selling their zines online as opposed to infoshops or bookstores. How come? Where can we get our greasy mitts on Turkish zines, what websites d'you recommend?
In Turkey , too many zinesters and we dont wanna sell our zines. But problem is bookshops. We said to them "we wanna bring some zines for free to here, so people can read" and they said "for free? No way. You have say a price".
Zinesters dont earn money with this. For example; in our last work, I copied 200 Alternatif fanzine, and I give bookshops only 30. Making 200 zine coast 100 lira. Selling 30 zine is 20 lira.
There is only 3 way to getting zines in here
1- Bookshops, cafe's
2- Know some guys
3- Exchange with somebody
Best zines to come out of Turkey?
If you are asking my favs they are:
sokakedebiyatı (http://www.sokakedebiyati.net) (poems and dark stories)
yedek parça zine (http://www.facebook.com/home.php#!/pages/Yedek-Par%C3%A7a-Fanzin/160101984011969) (underground literature)
fanzin sergisi http://fanzinsergisi.blogspot.com/
FROM OUR [OTHER] CANBERRA CORRESPONDENT IN KURDISTAN, By Project Bridget
Salam alaykom zinesters,
The first bookshop I walked in to in Iraqi Kurdistan, the guy handed me a zine.
A fat DIY Kurdish-English phrasebook, covering everything from ordering breakfast to going in to surgery. I eagerly slap down my 6,000 Iraqi dinars on the counter. Let's try a few, shall we?
Min xelki Kurdistanim - I'm from Kurdistan
Heta malewe bitgeyenim? - May I take you home?
Le companyay maykirosaft dam - I'm with Microsoft
Nimune xiwen/miz-i tom dewe - I want a specimen of your blood/urine
The extra exciting thing about Kurdish print media is getting it at all - particularly in Turkish Kurdistan, where the very existence of the Kurdish language was officially outlawed until its grudging repeal in 2004 at the height of Turkey's “let's be friends!” EU courtship. Prior to this, Kurdish names containing the letters X, W and Q (which aren't part of the Turkish alphabet and thus - zomg!! Threat to national identity! - were forbidden, in some cases names even forcibly changed by The Man himself).
While the past 40 years has seen a renaissance of Turkish Kurdish diaspora literature from the safe havens of Europe, Kurds in Turkey have not had that opportunity. A few weeks ago in Diyarbakir, the unofficial capital of Turkish Kurdistan, boys who had already weathered their compulsory military service for a country that has never belonged to them (and was indeed responsible for the demolition of 3,500 Kurdish villages in eastern Turkey) lovingly showcased for me their small collection of the at last-growing body of homegrown Kurdish literature.
Soviet provision of a printing press allowed Iranian Kurds to start pumping out journals from the late 1940s. In Iraq, revolutionary Peshmerga (literally “he who faces death”) fighters established pirate radio stations to broadcast messages of resistance throughout the 1980s. If station operators were caught, they faced death on charges of treason.
While Iraqi Kurds have generally enjoyed greater linguistic (at least) liberties than their Turkish sisters and brothers, the same probs can't be boasted for the infantile democracy of the semi-autonomous Kurdish Regional Government of Iraq, the mountainous lands in the north I'm currently calling home. Take for example 23 year old Sardasht Osman, who turned up dead in Mosul last May after the publication of his blistering poem I'm in love with Barzani's daughter through underground Swedish-based hate-machine KurdistanPost.com. (Massoud Barzani, for the uninitiated, is Mr. Prez of the KRG & head honcho of the ruling Kurdistan Democratic Party)
Graffiti has a long history in the Middle East as the newspaper of the street. In Palestine an Israeli military law was introduced in the 1980s for the sole purpose of crackdown on those for whom it was the medium of choice to mobilize the masses during the First Intifada. Wandering down the streets of Sulaimani, Iraqi K-stan meanwhile, I'm torn between amusement and dismay when a Peshmerga tries to tell me it's forbidden to photograph the Che Guevara mural I've got my camera honed on.
Contemporary Kurdish underground media, like so many others, has largely cast off print media and succumbed to the trappings of Modern Technology (oh!). TV stations that would be outlawed within minutes of airtime continue to beam down on the thousands of satellite dishes that dot the skyline of greater Kurdistan, with tidings of self-expression that may allude Kurds in their homeland. Facebook, Twitter and the blogosphere join the fray.
Which makes my Kurdish On Trip acquisition all the more spesh, I reckon. Bashi! If any of this sounds remotely like something you'd dig reading a zine on, keep an eye out for me upcoming All My Friends Are Mountains, burrowing its way through the stratosphere to an illustrious Melbourne proprietor near you.
Keep it surreal,
Project Bridget
FROM OUR [OTHER] CANBERRA CORRESPONDENT IN TURKEY, also By Project Bridget
If you are as tingly as I am at the thought of a non(anti?)-Occident zinescene to sink yon teef into, you'll probably be chuffed to hear zines are alive & kicking in Turkey.
I spent a week in Istanbul on the way home from Iraq. This heaving metropolis is one of those find-anything places - as loathe as I am to pull up trite “between two worlds” phrases, in Istanbul it's all you can do to fend em off. We stayed with an awesome couple that my boyfriend interviewed last year for his book on anarchism across five continents (“Von Jakarta bis Johannesburg: Anarchismus Weltwide”, in case any of youse speak Deutsch), who took us for a totally enjoyable afternoon burrowing through hidden shelves in pokey little bookshops on the Anatolian side of the city, & turned up a few zine treasures. Fortunately Turkish zines seem pretty big on visuals so I was able to appreciate them aesthetically, if not linguistically. I emailed the authors to hassle them for more info. Below is an interview with Volkan of Alternatif zine from Istanbul.
Can you give us a bite-sized history of the Turkish zine scene?
We think it started in later 80's. First zines were political (socialist, anarchist and greens). Then after 90 some groups made zines about literature they were trying to write in interesting styles (underground culture). So, big magazines and publishing house not interested in their works. So they realised this : do it your self.
How long has your zine Alternatif been going for? How did it start?
We started it in April 2009. Beetween 2007-2010 I was in Istanbul University (economy). Me and my friends got some problem with school...academicians, stupid students, politics ..
For example; too many students think when they graduate from shcool, they will be CEO in a company... They dont know how many unemployed young who finish college..(%12 in TR) So we tried to wake up them , in their sweet dreams. Then I said my ideas to my friends : HEY LETS MADE A ZINE.
Is independent print media falling victim to the blogosphere/social media/intarweb behemoth in Turkey, like so many other countries?
Unfortunately yes. Fucking conformism.
Most of the Turkish zines I've picked up seem of the good ole punk/political variety. Are there perzines, art zines, DIY zines, anything-else-zines out there I just haven't found yet?
Sure. The problem is distribution channels. So its normal some fanzines, you cant find them in bookshops...There is too many kind of fanzines in Turkey. But if you are foreign, finding zine's is hard for you :)
It seems like most zinesters here are selling their zines online as opposed to infoshops or bookstores. How come? Where can we get our greasy mitts on Turkish zines, what websites d'you recommend?
In Turkey , too many zinesters and we dont wanna sell our zines. But problem is bookshops. We said to them "we wanna bring some zines for free to here, so people can read" and they said "for free? No way. You have say a price".
Zinesters dont earn money with this. For example; in our last work, I copied 200 Alternatif fanzine, and I give bookshops only 30. Making 200 zine coast 100 lira. Selling 30 zine is 20 lira.
There is only 3 way to getting zines in here
1- Bookshops, cafe's
2- Know some guys
3- Exchange with somebody
Best zines to come out of Turkey?
If you are asking my favs they are:
sokakedebiyatı (http://www.sokakedebiyati.net) (poems and dark stories)
yedek parça zine (http://www.facebook.com/home.php#!/pages/Yedek-Par%C3%A7a-Fanzin/160101984011969) (underground literature)
fanzin sergisi http://fanzinsergisi.blogspot.com/