Mail Art Zooming / ZMAG is Meeting / Here's My Notes

 

You guys want to talk about mail-art on a Wednesday.

In early December 2022, Joel Cohen in New York sent me an email. He wrote that he led a group of people gathered on zoom to talk about mail-art. This group had been meeting for about two years when he contacted me. He said my name had come up in previous meetings. Joel also informed me that part of the meetings involved members doing presentations along informal chats and a little show and tell. 10-15 people regularly signed on. Considering that I never talk about mail-art with other people, this was a wonderful opportunity. I, of course, accepted his offer.

Ever since January 2023, I have attended every monthly meeting except one. They’re a lot of fun and I’m learning a lot about these folks. In some cases, I’ve mailed to the people on the screen for over ten years. Many of the people I’ve never heard speak until we were in the zooms together. A good portion I had never even seen before. Being able to put a voice and a face to an artistic style is enlightening.

In the third meeting, I presented my board books. It wasn’t a high tech presentation. I simply held up some examples and talked through my process. A few people in the group had participated in mailed these around, but not everyone. The next week I mailed examples to the mail-artists I wasn’t that acquainted with. My presentation was just, OK. So far I’ve listened to great presentations about using A.I in creating art, a ton of presentations about current mail-art projects, a personal tour of someone’s museum-like house, and a presentation by an artist in Spain about their DIY art space, among many others.

Seriously, I’ve never talked so much about mail-art before, never interacted with so many people that actually care about it. I’m about 15 years in (consistently sending most weeks) and there’s no one that I talk face to face about this stuff. I’ve met a few mail-artists, but no one lives anywhere near me. No one cares. No one has a context for this silliness. Being in that group solidifies my motivation even if I’m quiet while it’s happening. During the meetings, I don’t have that much to say. I mostly sit and listen and try and find ideas to steal for my own work.

While listening to the presentations and random conversation on August 16^th 2023, I jotted down a few things I wanted to expound on. What follows are random thoughts that occurred to me during that meeting. Consider this me speaking up.

 

Other Z.M.A.G. folks (that’s what the group is called) feel free to add your thoughts about the group, or not, I can’t force you do to anything.

 

 

-          I never know that important mail-artist, yeah you know…that person.

Someone needs to make a list of the “important” mail-artists along with all the “important” mail-art projects. You know, a who’s-who of past projects. I feel like everyone else knows the important works by this person or that person, but not me. “Oh yeah,” someone might say, “You haven’t heard of Bob? He sent rubber stamp copies of all his tax returns in the mail…it was great. He did it for decades.”

-          I love trying to match on screen identities to what they create.

Many of the people in the meetings I’ve sent to for over a decade. In that time, I’ve developed a short hand of what I thought they were like as real human people, not a name attached to an envelope. In the meetings, I like to challenge those assumptions based on how they present themselves during the zoom meetings. Often the person they appear to be in their mail, feels like the person they are on a tiny screen. You know, someone that’s a little wacky in what they create, seem like an equally wacky person on screen.

What I’ve been most surprised by are the people that come off quite serious in the meetings, even though their creations are dynamic and colorful.

-          Political mail-art isn’t my jam.

As much as I admire folks willing to do what they feel is important, I often think of that Patton Oswalt observation. You know that bit, the one where he mentions how the world’s biggest finger painting cannot change the powers that be.

-          I’ve never built strong mail-art relationships

There’s that cliché, the one where people come together in groups and forge strong relationships. You learn later, or at least feel, that everyone in that group is super close, that they talk on a regular basis, and even have a covered dish dinner every other Sunday. But they’ve never invited you to that casserole laden party. I kind of feel that way. Although I’ve sent thousands of things, and corresponded with hundreds of people, I don’t feel like I know any of those people as well as I should. If I lived in L.A. or San Francisco, (one of out every ten mail artists are from S.F.) I might not feel better connected. I don’t even have a go-to dish I’d take to the party.

At the same time, I do love the quick conversations made possible through mail-art. Just this morning I talked with someone in Hungary as I had my morning coffee. We were sharing thoughts about a piece of mail art sent to him from someone in San Francisco. It was quick, but invigorating. He went back to his job in Budapest and I made the drive to work.

-          No matter the context, “Please mute your microphone” will be uttered.

Zoom meetings, whether intended to be fun, or contractually done through work, often have the same technical glitches. No matter what the context, someone will have their microphone on when they shouldn’t. No matter the context, someone will comically fumble around with the buttons before muting themselves.

-          Joey P. is my guy.

You know those people in school that would get you in trouble because you two made too much noise, created too many distractions…yeah, I feel like if Joey and I were in the same room, the teacher would separate us.

-          I’ve never thought about supporting or denouncing major art institutions.

I think of what I do in terms of punk rock. I think of my creations like punk shows performed in small basements in say…Madison Wisconsin. When I think of attacking (critiquing) MOMA or some similar institution, it feels like I’m critiquing arena rock shows at Madison Square Garden. I don’t think we exist on the same planet. 

-          I’m not art ambitious.

I can’t sell my work. I can’t even give it away. All I want is to be able to see my ridiculous ideas appear in the world, that’s it. Would you like to put a magnet show in your town? Of course not.

-          The age of most mail-artists is a problem.

I’ve been consistently sending things since 2009. At that time, I was 28 years old. When I was 28 I noticed the age of most mail-artists was quite high. Now that I’m in my 40’s, I’ve slowly started to become part of the problem.

So many of the people I’ve sent to over the years are in their 60’s, or 70’s, and even their 80’s. While many have stuck around the whole time I’ve been sending, I don’t know that others have filled in the gap. So often younger folks pop up, make a strong impression and then disappear. These are the folks that we need to stick around and engage everyone. If I have any worries about this whole project, it’s this.

-          My hair never looks great on Zoom.

By the time the meetings take place at 7:30 pm, my hair has been through a whole day of challenges. It’s been somewhat de-poofed. My face is always there in that tiny rectangle, reminding me of my follicle mishaps.

-          I love watching people making things during the meeting.

When people are talking, I’m mostly watching their screen. If things are going on a little too long, I’ll start clicking on people’s little rectangles. I especially like it when people are clearly making things as they’re listening. The past couple of times I followed their lead by putting together a few collages. The next day I went upstairs and cut up what I created. I ended up with four new things. I felt like I was getting away with something.

-          I’m firmly pro-DADA.

Mail-artists seem to align themselves with some third party. Some folks are all about Fluxus and whatever that means, others seem to be devotees of Ray Johnson. I’m firmly pro-Dada. I’m a pro-DADA / punk. My jokes are clearly jokes and they’re often done on monochrome xerox copies.

-          Mail-artists love artist stamps.

Maybe it’s just Z.M.A.G. but so many mail-artists love artist stamps! I rarely think about them but these people are totally immersed. I’ve received hundreds of stamp sheets over the years, but I’ve never thought about making them myself. At one meeting, we were alerted to a company in India that was making the stamp perforating devices in 2023. Everyone in the group seemed to know the name and year of their own perforating machines, a device that would be completely useless for 99.9% of the world’s population. This sort of thing, the focus on the minutiae, the specific devices and applications used to aid creating things, I love.

-          Still, like always, no one likes add and passes. Me neither!

For a while I glued a piece of paper to the back of my large envelopes. The paper read something about how the collages were THE thing. It was the main event; the other stuff was just as important but not what I was proudest of. That other stuff was often stickers, smaller broadsides, and of course add and passes. I put the note on the back because I was annoyed at how people would only see the add and passes when they looked through everything. It was like they opened the envelopes, which were sometimes filled with over a dozen things, and would pull out the add and pass as evidence that they were all I made. I imagine them tossing everything else in the fire and holding the two add and passes and saying out loud, “See, he’s an add and pass guy.” No the fuck I’m not! It’s only one of the things I create, and not all of the things I create.

I make add and passes because they’re somewhat fun and I can create them and then print them at work. During the summer, when I’m able to work at home, I end up making more collages. Once I’m back at work (I’m a community college instructor) I end up writing more, printing broadsides, and making the occasional add and pass. Right now, as in August of 2023, I have not made a new add and pass this year. The only add and passes I send are the 4x4’s that I put in large envelopes. The 4x4’s will continue indefinitely as my longest running mail-art project.

-          Bold mail-art statements are routinely met with open hostility.

Of course, many people like add and passes.

When a network such as the mail art one has no central body, no particular rules, folks are scrounging to create a structure. Many try and defend some portion of this thing simply because they have a stake in that unique part of this weird universe. Fine, do your thing.

I make stuff and then send stuff, that’s what I care about the most.