Chris Russell, Bedwitter
|Photo by Max S. Gerber|
Last year, Christopher Russell bought a defunct dot-coms color printer and launched Bedwetter Publications (www.bedwettermagazine.com) from his Silver Lake apartment. In the black-and-white world of the zine, his works bloom brightly at least briefly. His zines, which are mailed at random, are meant to be torn up, literally: A flurry of color photos, handwritten notes, Xeroxed paintings and self-produced pamphlets tumble out of Bedwetter #3 when its opened. Its a way, he says, for the reader to be an active participant. The zines arent really something that can be left on the coffee table. Bedwetter #4, another exercise in ephemera, is due out any day.
Russell, a soft-spoken Art Center MFA student who tends to sound professorial, came up with the name Bedwetter because bedwetting is the first site of social rejection, a childs first understanding that he might not be able to meet social expectations. He also produces chapbooks that, like his zines, subvert the genre: Absolute Gothic Masterpiece uses cinematic conventions of subtitling and fading as well as having a poem run along the bottom instead of page numbers.
He distributes his chapbooks at arbitrary locations around L.A. such as restrooms, phone booths and parks, and he also sells them at Beyond Baroque and Skylight Books. They read at a glance as commercially produced, he says. But that reading collapses on closer inspection as the books are anonymous, requiring one to struggle more to come to a conclusion about the quality of the story. Coming from photography, I looked for odd juxtapositions or things that were out of place. I want to create that sort of situation for other people to discover.
Get the This Week's Top Stories Newsletter
Every week we collect the latest news, music and arts stories — along with film and food reviews and the best things to do this week — so that you’ll never miss LA Weekly's biggest stories.
- With the Coastal Commission's Chief Axed, Will SoCal Become the Jersey Shore?
- Lee Baca's Chronic State of Denial Led to His Downfall
- Former Sheriff Lee Baca Admits He Lied to FBI, Could Face Prison