Cut, Paste, Create: The Impact of Democratic Expression
December 2, 2024
Text by Sarah Luu with Kate Bingaman-Burt
“If I see something that I like, I’m gonna shout about it.”
– Kate Bingaman-Burt
Fresh out of undergrad, I knew that I wanted to continue zine making. I had discovered this communicative art form amidst the pandemic, and after completing my first issue I knew I never wanted to stop. Over the next three to four years it became more than just a form of expression, but a means of connecting and sharing. I found myself deeply intertwined with my local music scene in San Jose, California and used zine-making as a way to promote music artists and hidden venues. Through collage and zine-making workshops, I helped revive a local radio station to the way it was before COVID had greatly affected its numbers and halted operations. With my own impact in mind, I knew that I was not the only one who recognized the power of zines and utilized it for their community. I spoke with Kate Bingaman-Burt who co-runs Outlet, a “part risograph print shop, part store, part illustration studio, part workshop & pop-up event space, part community resource, and part zine library”, to further investigate how zines have impacted lives in ways beyond the publications themselves.
Sarah Luu: I just wanna start off with a simple question. How did your relationship with zines begin?
Kate Bingaman-Burt: Oh my gosh. The very first zine that I made–I don’t even think I realized I was making a zine. I was 19 years old and I was an English major– a freshly minted English major at a very tiny college in Southern Missouri. This was 1996-’97 and I had just started working as a student worker at a writing center which was great. It was the very first kind of Mac lab on campus and I really loved the other people that worked there.
My friend, Zach, who I had met on the very first day of college, also worked in the writing center, and he and I both actually had just quit our mass communications major. Both of us were like, “We’re not doing this anymore. We’re gonna be writers. We don’t need mass comm!” He had just started writing poems, and I really thought that they were great.
I wanted more people to read them. I grabbed a bunch of his poems and I told him, “We are going to make a book out of your poems. More people need to read them.”
I still remember that day. I remember the carpet on the floor. I commandeered the copy code for the business office photocopier which was upstairs from the writing center. I had just enough knowledge in layout software to put together a kind of combination of analog and digital for zine of Zach’s writing. I made 50 of them and saddle stitched it on the floor of the business office and then I had this pile of zines! It was called “3 Months with a Cult” and I spelled “February” wrong on the cover–I remember this because they were collected poems from February 1997 to April 1997. Once I sat there and looked at this pile of publications, I was like, “Well now, we have to put an event together so people can get them!” And that was my first event that I ever organized too.
I feel like that combination of making a publication and then also getting people in a space together to kind of share and celebrate that publication has been something that I’ve been doing for so many years. But that also was pretty significant for me, at least creatively, because at that stage of my young life, I didn’t really feel like I was a creative person. I really liked being around people who were doing creative things, and I loved having conversations with people that were in plays and in bands. I just loved being around people who were doing things and at that moment, when I was making that zine and organizing that event, I remember being like, “I’m doing something. I’m making something.” It felt really exciting, and it felt like something that I wanted to do again and again.
The thread that kinda ties everything together over these last 25 years or so is 1) zines and 2) the fact that I’m an enthusiast. If I see something that I like, I’m gonna shout about it.
And Zach and I are still friends!
Sarah: That’s so cool. I found that zines can really connect people in a deeper, unique way.
So, zine culture has deep roots in DIY, punk, and activist movements. How do you see your own work fitting into or even diverging from these traditions?
Kate: Well, I know that when I first started, it was definitely a platform for me to share other people’s work. I think a zine is a perfect container to showcase your ideas, your drawings, the things that you care about and get it into people’s hands. It’s a really beautiful, not gatekeepery way of expression.
I also think that it’s such a beautiful way to get in a room with people and make something tangible and physical, and then make multiples of it and share it with people. It’s one of the most democratic acts that a creative person can do. I love how accessible it is as a mode of expression.
As far as activism goes, when I opened my print shop, Outlet, in 2017, I was like, “Oh my god, okay, so it’s not a nonprofit, but we have printing presses.” One of the beautiful things about making zines, photocopies and risograph is that it’s high volume, low cost. So if we have folks that are coming to us with a one color poster for their cause that they deeply believe in or a one page zine that is going to educate and inform, it’s my responsibility to print that for them and they won’t have to pay for it and we’ll distribute it.
That’s always been something that has been part of the core value of Outlet. We want to help distribute material that you are passionate about, causes that you care for. Because again, it’s a printing press, and that’s what printing presses are for. That’s what I love about printing in general.
Sarah: We both know zines are very tangible pieces of media. How do you see zine culture evolving in the digital age?
Kate: Well, it’s funny because it’s a whole thing. I had a poster on my wall for the longest time, and it said “Zines aren’t dead”. This was probably around 2004 when there was a big debate–it’s so quaint and sweet thinking back upon it now, but we thought blogs were gonna kill zines. It was like it had to be an either-or thing where it was like, “Oh, no. The internet’s coming along and that’s gonna absolutely wipe away zine culture!” It thought it was funny, but that was a real thing.
As someone who actively participated in both zine culture and also online culture at the time, and still do, I felt like I was doing something that was a little bit radical where I would be promoting my zine on my blog and vice versa, reaching out to people. I mean, my first teaching job was at Mississippi State from 2004 to 2008, and I had started doing monthly zines. The way that I distributed my zines was just reaching out to people on the Internet and giving them this digital high five because I really just loved what they were doing and I wanted to basically share my zine with them. Instead of having a more hyperlocal distribution of a publication, I was able to put these different nodes all over and outside the U.S. by just reaching out with the Internet and having this beautiful combination of digital and analog. I feel like me feeling very nimble in both of those states has been a tremendous benefit.
And so those two things shouldn’t be either-or. They work together, and they are a powerful freaking thing when they work together.
Sarah: I love that. I feel like social media, despite its many emerging cons, is still a great tool for people to promote their work. It’s quite pessimistic to think that only one can exist without the other, you know?
Kate: Exactly. I also think too–and this is when I’m working with my students–that you can really leave a big impression. Yeah, you can do stuff online, but sending something you like or being nimble online and then sending in something following-up in the mail is way more impactful.
When I was coming up in school, it was very common for people to get mail promos. It was almost as if it was a joke, like, “Oh, no. I got another postcard from this illustrator. Big deal.” But nowadays, to get something in the mail means you care. There’s time put towards that, so it’s just so much more special and impactful.
Sarah: That’s really beautiful. I totally agree.
So your practice includes a multitude of disciplines: drawing, lettering, documenting. I’m curious about your practice of collecting–does that tie in with your zine-making?
Kate: Absolutely. That’s one of the things where whenever I start a new project, I want to be thinking: How are people going to be experiencing this kind of amorphous idea? What is the end result of these lists I’m making? What is going to be the final or one of the final deliverables for this maybe random list of words and ideas that I think are going to be this new project I’m working on? What is the word I’m looking for? Zines are a really great way to solidify and organize, and make a project feel a little bit more concrete if it’s in a publication form. It’s a container.
Then you’re able to think, okay. If I want to make a zine for this, then I’m gonna need “x” amount of drawings. If I’m working with a collection, it gives structure.
It gives control to the chaos. When there is that structure and that kind of control to more chaotic ideas, it really helps you to take that project across the finish line, too. Because then you’re like, “Okay. I’m gonna have this final object and I want to distribute it here or send it there.” It actualizes it for you, too.
Then it starts to feel more like a real thing than something that only exists in your sketchbook. That’s why for me, even if it doesn’t end up as a zine, it helps me organize my thought processes around what it is that I’m working on. For example, one of my newer projects that I’m working on right now is that I’m doing these 11×14 marker and gouache drawings of different Afghans I’ve purchased over the years. I’m just enjoying the colors and enjoying the marks.
I’ve also been enjoying trying to memorialize these different blankets that my six year old is obsessed with. It’s like a project talking about him and his emotions through blankets. Then I’m like, “Is this supposed to be a show?” No! I think I want this to be a series of prints. But then I also want to have these one color reproductions of those multicolor blankets in a zine form that would go into the back of these prints too. So overall it’s just a structure that helps me take a project over the finish line instead of having to just be a pile of drawings that don’t ever get completed or finished.
Sarah: In addition to your own practice, you also host community events within Outlet. What urged you to begin organizing workshops? Were there any unexpected outcomes?
Kate: 2006 was the first year that I was invited to do a zine workshop, and then I spent 2006 until 2017, when Outlet opened, traveling all around the country. I was giving zine workshops in London, Amsterdam, in Barcelona–the world, basically–where it was just me and my pink suitcase filled with my zine collection, my button maker, and just ridiculous zine making tools. I did that all through my thirties. And during my thirties, I got really involved with a Portland organization called Design Week Portland and we organized a lot of events that kind of goes back to me organizing that zine release event for my friend, Zach. I just like putting together events. I get great creative satisfaction from gathering people into our room and pointing, supporting and highlighting: You should learn this thing! You should meet this person!
It came along at the right time because I was 40 when Outlet opened and traveling became a lot. And then I had my kiddo, Hank, in 2018 when I was 41 and at that point I definitely didn’t travel nearly as much, and then the pandemic happened. It’s been an adventurous 7 years since opening up Outlet in 2017, but it has been really lovely to have a headquarters for workshops, my zine collection, a shop for folks to print on the risos, a space where people can reach out and see if they can utilize the space on nights we’re not open so they can have meetings for their organizations.
I just feel very lucky and privileged to be able to offer up space in the way that I do and to also, prior to opening up Outlet, have taken 20 years of trying to make spaces in other places. For instance, if I’m hosting a zine workshop in a weird classroom in a town that I’ve never been in before, I have to wonder how I can make that space feel like a welcoming one and one where people are going to want to make. Now, I can just camp out and have a space where that happens and that’s been lovely!
Over the years, it has evolved a lot. It’s now co-owned by business partner, Leland Vaughn. They were my first full-time employee that I hired in 2019, and then I offered, “Do you want half of whatever this is?” in 2022, and they said yes. So that’s been wonderful, too. They act as a full-time studio manager iin the day-to-day. I’m at Outlet all day on Wednesdays, I teach workshops on Saturdays, but I’m really at school the rest of those times.
Sarah: So I just have one last question for you. If you could collaborate on a zine with any artist, historical figure, or fictional character, who would it be and what would the zine be about?
Kate: Oh my god. Can I get back to you on that one? That’s a big question. Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. There’s so many names that are going through my head right now!
Sarah: Yes! You can email or write it to me.
Fri, Oct 25, 2024 at 10:40 AM
Thank You!
Fr: Kate Bingaman
To: Sarah Luu
Hi Sarah!
okay! to answer your question:
If you could collaborate on a zine with any artist, historical figure or fictional character, who would it be and what would the zine be about?
My Dad passed away almost a year ago, and I have a ziplock bag of small items that belonged to him. I have picked it up, looked at it, and moved it around on my desk for many months to draw the items and make a zine about these items. I will eventually do this (I SWEAR), but I wish I had made a zine with him while he was still alive. I know this question is supposed to be a response about an artist, historical figure, or fictional character, but I am opting in for my dad. If your dad or mom or grandma or grandpa or another closer relative is still alive, make a zine with them!
Thanks Sarah!
KATE BINGAMAN-BURT (she/her) is a multi-disciplinary artist, illustrator, and educator based in Portland, Oregon. Kate’s teaching focuses on helping others find their creative voice and empowering people through making marks, making zines, and making prints! For her own practice, Kate mostly draws, letters, documents, and collects, but she also does a lot of other things that involve energy, conversation, and exchange. She is a full-time educator and makes illustrations for all sorts of clients all around the world including The New York Times, Hallmark, Girl Scouts of America, and Chipotle, as well as locally loved institutions like OMSI, Buy Olympia, and the Independent Publishing Resource Center. Since 2008, she has worked at Portland State and now holds the rank of Professor of Graphic Design. She is also the Associate Director of the School of Art + Design and the head of the Graphic Design program. In 2017, Kate founded the community print space Outlet which hosts workshops, pop-up events, a zine library, and a fully operational risograph print studio.
SARAH LUU (she/they) is an interdisciplinary artist, writer and barista. First generation Asian-American from San Jose, California, she currently studies and lives in Portland, Oregon. She holds a BA from San Jose State and is looking forward to the next several years in the MFA Art and Social Practice program at Portland State. Sarah has published multiple zines, including 2GÜD and Sound Shock. Aside from specializing in D.I.Y publications, her work explores themes of Asian American identity, diaspora, intergenerational trauma and family lineage through ceramics, printmaking, and photography. She describes herself as “interdisciplinary in life”, having backgrounds in not only art but also dance, theater, music, community service, baking and coffee.
