A Review of Some Mail Art Publications
Circa 1986
By Mark Bloch
In the mid-eighties, New York City mail artist Carlo Pittore asked me, on behalf of an academic publication I cannot recall the name of, to pick eight of my favorite mail art zines and review them. He also asked a few other people to do the same and even reviewed a batch of them himself with the intention of compiling them all into an issue of the academic magazine that was interested in mail art at the time, but the piece was never published for reasons unbeknownst to me. I recently unearthed what was to be my contribution and so for the first time, I offer it to you now. It was the mid-1980s and Ronald Reagan was the President so I wrote my review in the form of a sarcastic letter to him. I review the wonderful self-published zines Mambo Press Update, Eat It Up, Prop, Collective Farm, Afzet, AU and Clinch.
New
York City Dear President Reagan,
Let me tell you about
a few of the mail art publications that have appeared in my mailbox over the
course of the past few years. I think they are a phenomenon that you should
know about. You
may remember from my last letter, Mr. President, that the mail art network
is a loosely-knit community of artists, writers, poets, and just regular people
who communicate with each other through the international postal system. This
activity has been going on for quite some time. Well, it seems that some of
these hoodlums actually have the audacity to create their own magazines, as if we didn’t have enough commercially produced
periodicals to choose from in this great land of ours. Not only that,
but most of these publications are printed in small editions and are available
only to contibutors, or to outsiders at an exhorbitant price. Who do these creeps think
they are, Mr. President? Using the U.S. Mail is one thing- tt's actually good
for the economy if these buffoons want to waste their dough on postage stamps.
But self-publishing? This is a sacred activity that is reserved for the Thomas
Paines and Adam Smiths of our society, not a bunch of twisted artists with
their minds in the gutter.
Mambo
Press Update
A case in point is MPU
or the Mambo Press Update, that came to me from San Antonio, Texas.
A guy named "Nunzio" is the editor of this rag. What kind of deranged
creep would waste his time mailing out this stuff? A lot of it is barely legible
and the illustrations seem to be done by children. I thought art was the stuff
"American Gothic" is made of. For my money, this MPU has
no relation at all to the work of Norman Rockwell. Yet, he calls it art.
The copy I'm holding now
(I will wash my hands momentarily) is xeroxed on white paper with a yellow
cover. Let me tell you, Mr. President, this is yellow journalism at its worst.
Inside, there is an article about a preacher who tried to convince the young
men in his congregation
not to masturbate by showing then a collection of chicken necks and telling
them they were penises that had shriveled up and fallen off! Granted, I did
read the article several times, but this was over six months ago, and I still
can't wipe this horrible imagery out of my mind. While this is only one story,
the rest of the scum inside seems to follow suit. The issue closes with a
Canadian woman recalling a childhood memory of an exhibitionist hiding in
the bushes exposing himself. While I have had similar experiences myself,
and empathize with the poor man in the bushes, I just have to ask, is this
the kind of stuff we need circulating in the U.S. Mail? I suggest we seek
out this Nunzio and give him a 21 gun salute—Texas style. If I didn't
know better, I'd think this guy was related to Lee Harvey Oswald. Eat
It Up Next on my list is another
xeroxed publication- this one called Eat It Up. I'm not surprised that
this so-called "magazine of art and culture" is done in that no-good
Pinko-town, Berkeley, California. The staff of this blatantly subversive rag
are listed as Franklin Void, Joey Know, Patrick T., Ray Weapons and Helen
Heaven, but I've been keeping a file on these jerks and I've got reason to
believe they are all the same person. It seems apparent, Mr, President, that
these cowards, if indeed they are NOT the same guy, are afraid of revealing
their true identities for fear that the world would see them as the gutter
snipes they truly are.
Anyway, Eat It Up
's format is one 8 1/2" by 11" page, printed on both sides and folded
into quarters. It seems to have some continuity to it, being held together
by regular features that appear in each issue. Amazingly, these thugs, whomever
they are, have had the tenacity to publish over forty issues to date. They
are obviously dangerous, Mr. President, if they have this kind of energy.
We've got to stop them. These are the kinds of ruffian who not only mutter
about free speech, but actually exercise it. Each issue contains both an editorial
and an answer to the question, "What is art to a post-urban artist?"
These queries usually contain lots of big words and ponder issues that no
American in their right mind would bother thinking about. Then, adding insult
to injury, they review local art shows and music events, in addition to mail
art projects with an inane rating system. Interspersed between the weird illustrations
are columns of mail art information, news flashes and a thing called graffiti
of the week. Finally, the most useful part of Eat It Up is called "the
mailbox", where addresses of correspondents are listed. I find this handy
in locating other, like-minded thugs to harrass. We've got to keep an eye
on these worms, Mr. President.
Prop
Speaking of underground
pests, another one of these scandal-sheets comes out of Albany, New York,
and is called Prop, Now Prop is interesting because it does
not, at first, look at all bizarre, I was moved by the fact that the price-
ranging from $1 to $5- was printed largely on the cover. Obviously an honest,
productive money-making venture. A closer look, however, revealed that its
mailing status lists the publisher as a non-profit organization. What do you
know about this "Workspace Loft Inc.", Mr. President? Is -this some
sort of trick? The publication looks innocent enough. The format is either
8 1/2 by 11 or 8 1/2 by 7 inches, with good quality photo-reproduction. It
is, after all, printed offset. This requires some kind of money and it makes
me wonder who is behind it. All I can find out is that one of the main perpetrators
is a fellow named Joachim Frank. A list of contributors is always printed,
but it seems to change, from issue to issue. Also, there seems to be a theme
for each Number such as "Post Historic Documents," "Literary
Issue," and "Vision and Supervision." Most copies have somewhere
in the neighborhood of 28 pages of ironic, often sarcastic prose, goofy and/or
thought-provoking poetry and witty collages that contain elements that seem
to collide from a myriad of sources, Mr. President. Isn't this evidence enough
that a menace the caliber of Prop must be wiped off the face of the
earth as soon as possible?
Collective
Farm
While we are on the subject
of cleaning up the planet, Mr, President, let me remind you that the only
good Russian is a disappeared one. That is why you must not hesitate to bring
action against a couple of commie-intellectuals who call themselves the Gerlovins.
These weirdos claim to be ex-reds, and I don't mean the kind from Cincinnati.
They are contoversial, extraordinary individualists who seen to work very
hard at what they do. This scares me. The Gerlovins left the U.S.S.R. in 1980
and headed for New York City, where they now publish editions of a hand-made,
one-of-a-kind project called Collective Farm, which they insist on
calling an art object. It is very beautiful to the untrained eye, but close
scrutinization by an expert such as myself reveals it to be a piece of cleverly-disguised
propaganda. They are obviously attempting to challenge our traditional concept
of what constitutes a book. Next they will be questioning the validity of
cheeseburgers or worse, apple pie. We must nip these mysterious no-good-nics
in the bud or they will undermine all that is sacred in America, Mr. President.
They have already infiltrated some of the finest institutions in our land.
Their work is archived in the Museum of Modern Art, and other reputable collections
across the country have also fallen prey to their masquerade. How long must
this go on? I urge you to act now.
Let
me tell you how it works, Mr. President. Rimma and Valerie Gerlovin and their
comrade' Yagrich Bakhchanyan, another Russian living in Manhattan, invite
artist-friends of theirs to submit work on a specific theme. Number One included
only Russian immigrants. In the second and third issues, only mail artists
participated. Number Four was called "Wunderkinds" in which "famous
artworks influenced by children's art are completed by the children of contemporary
artists." The
fifth and most recent issue is still in the works and involves-art critics.
Envelopes are filled by these selected participants, each one choosing the contents themselves, like a
book within a book. Rubber stamps and other ornamentation are then added by
the Gerlovins, or occasionally by the artists themselves. Finally, the envelopes
are bound together. Usually, Collective Farm appears in an edition
of 100, which means that that many envelopes must be stuffed by each of the
chosen artists. Thus, each copy of the "magazine" is unique and
assembled by hand. The cover is then stamped with the distinctive "Samizdat"
label, which means, of course "self-published." I think you will
agree, Mr. President, that for obvious reasons, this project must not "be
allowed to continue. Perhaps the Gerlovins and Mr. Bakhchanyan would find
the climate of Alaska reminiscent of their native land. At any rate, I suggest
that they practice their consciousness-raising
antics elsewhere. Do any of the major airlines fly to Siberia? Afzet
We both know that in spite
of the melting pot myth that American society is based upon, we must keep
foreigners and their influence away from the people of the United States.
That is why I strongly suggest that you take a good look at some of the material
that is circulating in our country from foreign lands, Mr. President. One
such publication is a periodical of Dutch origin called Afzet. One
of the meanings of this word, I have learned, is an economic term refering
to an object that delivers less than what was paid for it. This is certainly
the case with a pair of outsiders, Margot Van Oosten and Sonja Van Der Burg
and and their bi-monthly taboo tabloid, Afzet.
Like Collective Farm
and many of the other mail art periodicals, Afzet challenges traditional
concepts of what a publication should be. For instance, Afzet is not
bound in any way, either literally or figuratively; it consists of several
pages of various sizes and textures, compiled in an envelope. I might add,
Mr. President, that over the four years of Afzet's existence, I've
noticed that it has become increasingly difficult to stuff the contents back
into the envelope from whence they came. This seems to be a periodical that
is growing in scope and popularity at an incredible rate, in spite of the
fact that it’s circulation is limited to sixty copies per issue. I feel
the time is now to squelch Afzet before it is too late. The publication
didn't even begin as a mail art venture. The two Dutch women started it in
1981 out of a need to do an art work in collaboration. They sent it monthly
at first, only to their friends and asked for responses in the form of ideas
and materials. As I look through my early issues, I see that from the start
they really had only one concern: to gum up the international postal system.
There are three-dimensional objects included such as pieces of rope and string,
or folded pieces of brightly colored paper whose only purpose could be to confuse the authorities. The second year
it became even worse. They cut down on the frequency of Afzet, publishing
only four Issues, and they announced that all the issues would deal with boxes.
The confounding thing, Mr. President, was that I couldn't find the boxes.
Perhaps the recipients were supposed to construct the boxes themselves. I
think that only people as patient and delicate as the publishers themselves
would have the gumption to do so. Much to my dismay, Afzet returned
for a third year, stronger and more organized than ever. Suddenly a whole
new audience of mail art loonies had developed. For the first time the size
was standardized to 3 1/2 x 5
1/2 (those Europeans call this "A5") and it was arriving regularly
now, every other month. They had also begun a section of the magazine called
"Palm Bank" where they could include the work of contributors they
called "visitors."
In spite of this success,
Mr. President, I was overjoyed when I learned that Sonja and Margot decided
to call it quits. They announced a "black issue" at the end of 1985
that was to summarize their experience and say goodbye. However, I guess the
people who recieve Afzet had other feelings. The responses were unanimously
in favor of continuing with Afzet. Thus, 1984 featured a different
color for each issue as Afzet was reborn. Again, participation increased.
A new feature called, the "5 by 5 page" was created to announce
mail art events. Suddenly these Dutch women were involved in a full-blown
mail art endeavor. My greatest fear is that their growth will continue into
their fifth year in which each issue will feature a given sentence fragment
with the intention of making them into a complete sentence by year's end.
How do these women do it, Mr, President? I never knew there was an audience
for such personal publication, so rich in texture and metaphor, What is the
world coming to, I ask you?
AU
I am also surprised by
the success of another foreign publication, this one from Japan. It is called
AU, which stands for both "Art Unidentified" and "Artist
Union," the name the group that publishes it in Nishinomiya, Japan, which
I believe is near Osaka. This periodical is not a magazine at all, but rather,
a wall poster. It is very very well-done, featuring two professionally-printed
sides of a poster that measures roughly 2 feet by 16 inches. Much of the information
is written in English, and some of it is in Japanese, but the most curious
results happen when English words, such as names or untranslatable phrases,
appear in the middle of a sentence comprised of Japanese characters. These
hybrid communications add to the confusion that is created by the incomprehensible
photographs. The most recent issue, for example, featured work by one of the
ringleaders of this operation, a Mr. Shozo Shimamoto. Images created by mail
artists in other countries (including the U.S.A.) were "stretched"
on a xerox machine, producing images that looked like somebody in a bad dream
having a bad dream. This was issue Number 64. Like the magazine Eat It
Up, which I mentioned earlier, AU's publishers seem to be quite
prolific, a trait that is even more alarming when it comes from foreign shores.
Please remember, Mr. President that these were the enterprising people who
bombed Pearl Harbor.
They also are a nation
that seems bent on one-upping America with their radios and fuel-efficient
cars. Could it be their artists have a better idea, too? Harry Truman knew
what to do with these strangers from the Land Of The Rising Sun, I'm sure
you do, too. AU is yet another reason why tomorrow is not soon enough
for history to repeat itself.
Like I said, there are
numerous illustrations in AU. They are all presented in that pristine
Japanese style that they seem to enjoy flaunting at the rest of the world.
The information is also presented in an impeccable manner. They often offer
information that other publications seem to miss. In fact, many of the projects
they mention seem to originate within the Artist Union Space itself. There
are announcements for a "portrait mail art show," a "unique
art show," and a "hand made book exhibition." There is also
an invitation to an "envelope show" as well as the "A.U. Mail
Art Book III." Now, you may be interested to know, Mr. President, that
previous A.U. Mail Art Books read like a Who's Who of the mail art network.
There were world maps showing just how many of these maniacs there are on
the planet and a compendium of entries by the usual gang of mail art thugs,
world-wide. How long can we let this go on, Mr. President? These people at
A.U, (who include, among others, Misao Kusumoto and Ryosuke Cohen) seem very
open to outside influence. They freely invite others to participate in their
projects. The question, however, is, do we have to stand by and watch? I think
you'll agree that this Artist Union is too powerful a force to be left to
their own devices.
Clinch
That brings us to the
last publication on my list, this one with a shorter history and from a country
with a less aggressive reputation.
I am speaking of Switzerland
and the magazine Clinch, which originates in the home of Geneva's Gunter
Ruch. Now Ruch is dangerous because of his seemingly flawless blend of information
about the network and artwork from that network. He seems to have a flair
for presenting esoteric subject matter as if it were everyday kind of stuff.
Is this the sort of man we want lurking in the streets of a neutral zone in
middle of Europe? Certainly not. Let me tell you what I mean. All of his issues
thus far (there have been four to date, with a new one due out any day) have
presented the work of his mail art friends in the form of stickers. Between
15 and 20 different artists, representing countries that stretch around the
globe, submit to Clinch 200 stickers to grace the pages of his magazine.
Those pages, I might add, are very seductive, being multi-colored and very
efficiently used, while not appearing cluttered. Each issue also prints letters
of praise from fellow mail artists that read like testimonials of their favorite
coffee. But coffee is not what we are talking about here. No, Mr. President,
this is intimidation of the first degree, in the form of visually interesting
propaganda, that works on the reader/viewer without their knowledge. The colors,
the stickers, the innovative layout—all coerce the recipient into empathizing
with the opinions that lie between the lines. What are these opinions? I can't
figure them out, but they seem to lead to a strange kind of concerned euphoria.
Perhaps by listing the themes of the various issues you'll see what I mean:
Number 1 was about mail performances, Number 2, mail music. Issue Number 3
was called visual poetry, but I couldn't find a rhyme or a reason anywhere.
Number 4 has been promising a mail art history that should prove interesting.
Future projects include Number 5 on social engagements and Number 6 on new
horizons. What are the horizons Ruch has in mind? I don't think we should
wait to find out, Mr. President.
The information I've presented
here. President Reagan, should convince you of the evil consequences that
await us if we sit by and allow these mail artists to continue with their
activities. I feel we must purge ourselves of this ugly mail art beast before
they grab control of our nation and our world. Even the Ayatolla does not
pose a threat as great as these artists and their “magazines."
New Zines
In case you aren't convinced,
let me close by citing a few of the newer endeavors in this area. A slick
new rag out of Texas called ND has recently surfaced, adding to the
havoc already created by the previously mentioned MPU in the Lone Star
State. Florida is home to two mew publications, The Trouser Snake Press
and Doo Dah Florida. The TAM Bulletin has recently come to fruition
in Holland. Finally, a threatening new publication from Uruguay has recently
cone to my attention called Participacion that reaches Spanish-speaking
readers and seeks to educate uninitiated artists of the opportunities available
to them in the mail art network. How long do I have to go on, Mr. President?
Example after example of these wicked monsters are creeping into the lives
of complacent human beings everywhere. Do we need this kind of aggravation?
Do Americans need to be harrassed by this sort of self-serving individualism?
As I said in my introduction,
President Reagan, self-publishing is a sacred activity reserved for patriots
and statesmen. I think every American should ask himself- would Benjamin Franklin
condone this sort of activity? I think we all know the answer to that one.
I know you will act accordingly. Thank you for your concern.
Sincerely yours,
Mark Bloch
Sometime
around 1986