Canzine '07

The art of zine making at Canzine. Photo: Nicole Votta

A cacophony of noise greeted visitors at this year’s Canzine, where hundreds of zine makers discussed the finer points of zine culture, and took in readings and a free noise band who did interpretations of Metallica.

The twelfth annual Canzine was held on Oct . 28 at the Gladstone Hotel in Toronto. Staged by Broken Pencil, Canzine is a multimedia celebration of independent art and print zines.
Broken Pencil editor Lindsay Gibb said Canzine offers a chance for zine makers and underground artists in Toronto to come together.

“It started out as an oasis for zine people and what’s going on in the zine world and what zines are out there,” she said. “That’s what Canzine is all about, allowing people to get together and sell their zines.”

Judging by attendance, Toronto’s zine culture is alive and well. Two floors were crammed with tables of zines and underground comics. The narrow aisles were so packed people could barely squeeze by each other. This year’s Canzine featured a horror theme to coincide with the Halloween issue of Broken Pencil. Though Canzine is usually held at the end of October, Gibb said this was the first time they’d tried to add a spooky touch to the event.

“It just happened this year that we did a horror issue […] and we thought we would do it to coincide with Canzine,” Gibb said. “Canzine always falls toward the end of October.”

Readings, art installations and workshops were held on the second floor. Local writers read horror stories and a pair of make-up artists demonstrated the fine art of making intestines out of nylons and cotton balls. One installation challenged viewers to solve a murder. Artist Tara Bursey created a haunted room with worry bead diet pills and soaps inscribed with the word ‘imperfect’.

On both floors the atmosphere was friendly and chaotic. Members of the band Friendly Rich and the Lollipop People wandered up and down the stairs with rolls of packing tape and crank organs. Zine vendors spilled out onto the landings. An artist in a commercial pilot’s uniform sat behind his table sketching an intricate pattern of people and dense, curving lines amidst the chaos.

The printed zine doesn’t seem to be in any danger of disappearing, says Gibb.“I [thought] that online would change the face of zines and what people are creating. And for sure it has changed a little bit, like you see people making t-shirts and purses and whatever, things instead of just zines,” she said. “But we have more zines here than anything else. People are still making physical zines, not just online.”