Wisconsin Book Festival nuggets
Decider hits some prestigious readings and buys some zines
Scott Gordon
Madison native SOLVE lives on in The Zine, as seen at Madison Zine Fest.
As usual, this year's Wisconsin Book Festival crammed so much into so few days that it brought on that sinking feeling that comes from realizing you're going to miss dozens of intriguing literary events. Decider savored a few highlights ranging from liberal speechifyin' to ethnic identity-seeking to resourceful DIY art.
THURSDAY
In the Overture Center's Wisconsin Studio, Stephanie Elizondo Griest read from her book, Mexican Enough, which is part search for her Mexican identity and part social-justice reporting. She learned about what it’s like to be a gay man in Mexico’s conservative Querétaro state (it involves listening to a lot of Madonna and fearing for your life), about how a group of protesters sat for four years on a town square after being unjustly driven from their homes, and about the reverse culture shock coming back to the U.S. is worse than anything she experiences while traveling. As a bi-ethnic kid in Texas, she was confused when a teacher asked her, “Are you Mexican or white?” After this anecdote, an audience member acted offended that Griest used the term “white” to refer to people’s race. Um, hello? If you’re white, just shut up and enjoy your privilege already.
In the Overture Center's Wisconsin Studio, Stephanie Elizondo Griest read from her book, Mexican Enough, which is part search for her Mexican identity and part social-justice reporting. She learned about what it’s like to be a gay man in Mexico’s conservative Querétaro state (it involves listening to a lot of Madonna and fearing for your life), about how a group of protesters sat for four years on a town square after being unjustly driven from their homes, and about the reverse culture shock coming back to the U.S. is worse than anything she experiences while traveling. As a bi-ethnic kid in Texas, she was confused when a teacher asked her, “Are you Mexican or white?” After this anecdote, an audience member acted offended that Griest used the term “white” to refer to people’s race. Um, hello? If you’re white, just shut up and enjoy your privilege already.
FRIDAY
Madison’s lefties filled the Barrymore Theatre on Friday night, many of them proudly displaying a Barack Obama button. Imagine their reaction when Democracy Now’s Jeremy Scahill came out and told them that it was more important that they stand up for ideals and support third-party candidates than vote for Obama. After an audience member yelled a disgruntled objection, Amy Goodman quickly added that it does matter whom you vote for. Goodman then retold the story of how John McCain responded when someone at a recent rally called Obama an Arab: “No ma’am, he’s a decent man, a family man. He’s a citizen.” Goodman asked in horror what that would sound like if the woman had called him a Jew—or a Christian.
Madison’s lefties filled the Barrymore Theatre on Friday night, many of them proudly displaying a Barack Obama button. Imagine their reaction when Democracy Now’s Jeremy Scahill came out and told them that it was more important that they stand up for ideals and support third-party candidates than vote for Obama. After an audience member yelled a disgruntled objection, Amy Goodman quickly added that it does matter whom you vote for. Goodman then retold the story of how John McCain responded when someone at a recent rally called Obama an Arab: “No ma’am, he’s a decent man, a family man. He’s a citizen.” Goodman asked in horror what that would sound like if the woman had called him a Jew—or a Christian.
Still, it was the show's opener, Bob McChesney, who delivered the most prescient anecdote. He told of how two of the founding fathers, Jefferson and Madison, demanded a free press in order to prevent an overly militaristic and wildly unequal society. Hmm. If spontaneous hoots, hollers, and applause are any indication, the crowd was more than pleased throughout.
SATURDAY
It’s fair to assume that most of the standing-room-only crowd at the Wisconsin Historical Society Saturday night was there to hear festival headliner Marilynne Robinson read from the spare and lyrical Home. But it was Ron Wallace’s discordantly personal and funny poetry about his battle with prostate cancer that had attendees laughing in spite of themselves. One of the high (or low?) points was “Professor Penis,” a poem exploring his reaction to a student walking in on him while he was researching his disease—this while his computer screen was filled with a gigantic phallus.
It’s fair to assume that most of the standing-room-only crowd at the Wisconsin Historical Society Saturday night was there to hear festival headliner Marilynne Robinson read from the spare and lyrical Home. But it was Ron Wallace’s discordantly personal and funny poetry about his battle with prostate cancer that had attendees laughing in spite of themselves. One of the high (or low?) points was “Professor Penis,” a poem exploring his reaction to a student walking in on him while he was researching his disease—this while his computer screen was filled with a gigantic phallus.
With her signature red bandana headband, polka-dotted shirt, and jeans, Lynda Barry dominated a group of graphic artists at the Orpheum Stage Door. Her panel-mates quickly paled in comparison as Barry (one of Ira Glass’s disgruntled exes) charmed the crowd by singing a little song about her mother and reminding the audience to get back in touch with their creative centers. (You can draw! You can write!) She recommended going home, tracing your hand, making a turkey out of it, and then having the turkey tell off someone you hate. It’s cathartic, she promised.
SATURDAY: Zine Fest
The Madison Zine Fest didn't happen at all last year, but it made a dashing return at the Majestic, a more fun and central spot than the event's old campus-library venue. The first sign that all is well again? Billy Bunny, known for running the Chicago zine-distribution operation Loop Distro, and for wearing a bunny suit to these sorts of events. (He told Decider, "I didn't wear it this one time, and all I heard all day: 'Where's the bunny suit, where's the bunny suit?'") He might as well be Zine Fest's mascot: It's all about cheap treasures and resourceful, playful artwork from around the Midwest.
The Madison Zine Fest didn't happen at all last year, but it made a dashing return at the Majestic, a more fun and central spot than the event's old campus-library venue. The first sign that all is well again? Billy Bunny, known for running the Chicago zine-distribution operation Loop Distro, and for wearing a bunny suit to these sorts of events. (He told Decider, "I didn't wear it this one time, and all I heard all day: 'Where's the bunny suit, where's the bunny suit?'") He might as well be Zine Fest's mascot: It's all about cheap treasures and resourceful, playful artwork from around the Midwest.
Billy's friend Rachel Doelling is here helping him sell a bunch of stuff, including The Zine. Chicago artist and Madison native Brendan Scanlon, aka Solve, started work on it before being murdered in June. "The collaborative process started after he died, for me," Doelling says. A cut-up, confounding, and somehow completely engaging meditation on art and typography, The Zine has a lot to say about zine-making itself: "Drinking Old Style is all fun and games until it's around 5 in the morning and you get the urge to write the main copy for your zine. Seriously, WTF am I thinking? The whole concept of this thing is to create a piece that people can, you know, interact with in a level beyond reading. It's really hard to guage [sic] how people will interact though. I think that being able to gauge, and even better, to be able to direct that interaction, really is the 'trick.'"
A couple of the folks at the Midwest Anonymous Artists table are coy about giving their names: As their zine Anon, Good Nurse! explains in dense art-theory-ish language, they'd prefer not to let their own identities and egos mess up viewers' experience of the work itself. (Actual quote: "Much like Zeus raining down as gold on Danaë, the anonymous can also impregnate, heroes being therefrom born.")
Other Zine Fest highlights: Colin Matthes, of Milwaukee's Just Seeds collective, shared zines like Cut And Paint #2, a collection of stencil templates from artists around the world. Camy Matthay of the Wisconsin Books To Prisoners Project and anarchist zinester Anthony Rayson gave a presentation on the diverse creative work of American prisoners. Todd "Hyung-Rae" Tarselli is responsible, for example, for a stark, intense drawing of a figure huddled at the bottom of an hourglass, but also for Glee Club, an irreverent comic strip that Rayson described as the "Calvin And Hobbes of prison." Minneapolis' Chris Nehmzov manned a table and represents hobo art, some of it left on American train cars and collected in his zine series Ontrack Graffiti. Last but not least, UW-Madison alum Amy Eng's table included a series of amorphous little stuffed dolls called "multi-directional felt buddies."
SUNDAY
Actress Mia Kirshner was filming a TV show involving animatronic monkeys when she realized she was completely creatively disconnected from her work. Then 9/11 happened. "What the fuck is the world coming to?," she thought. So she embarked on a seven-year book project for which she met and collected the stories of oppressed people around the globe. Sunday’s reading at the Orpheum was the first stop on her tour behind the result, I Live Here. “I’m a little bit nervous,” she confessed, and then proceeded to give a heart-felt talk in which she got choked up when telling the story of one boy soldier. It’s not every L.A. actress that has the guts to walk into a brothel and ask the sex workers to tell their stories, so it was nice to hear from someone who's not just another materialistic member of the Hollywood glitterati. Jenny from The L Word would be proud.
Actress Mia Kirshner was filming a TV show involving animatronic monkeys when she realized she was completely creatively disconnected from her work. Then 9/11 happened. "What the fuck is the world coming to?," she thought. So she embarked on a seven-year book project for which she met and collected the stories of oppressed people around the globe. Sunday’s reading at the Orpheum was the first stop on her tour behind the result, I Live Here. “I’m a little bit nervous,” she confessed, and then proceeded to give a heart-felt talk in which she got choked up when telling the story of one boy soldier. It’s not every L.A. actress that has the guts to walk into a brothel and ask the sex workers to tell their stories, so it was nice to hear from someone who's not just another materialistic member of the Hollywood glitterati. Jenny from The L Word would be proud.
