Brooklyn’s Zine Fest Packs Greenpoint with Indie Ink

Greenpoint’s Zine Fest turned Brooklyn into a DIY print party last night, filling a warehouse with indie creators. Organizer Tariq Evans hawked his punk poetry chapbook as 200 makers swapped wares. Tables groaned with comics, manifestos, and weird art—NYC’s underground, unbound. A teen traded her sci-fi zine for a vegan cookbook; bartering’s the vibe. ‘This is Brooklyn’s raw voice,’ Evans says, stapling a fresh stack. Ink and grit ruled the night.

The fest’s grown—50 vendors last year, now triple that, spilling into the street. Evans, a zine vet since ’18, curates the chaos; last night’s highlight was a live silk-screen demo. A 20-something sold out of her breakup zine, tears and all. Entry’s free, but donations keep the lights on—$500 cleared by 10 p.m. A punk band thrashed in the corner, shaking the rafters. Greenpoint’s never been so paper-cut prone.

Some scoff—’It’s just Xerox junk,’ sniped a passerby, dodging a flyer. Space was tight; latecomers squeezed past elbows and egos. A printer jam stalled a queer zine run, sparking curses. Still, #ZineFestBK blew up X, pulling Manhattan artsy types. A rival fest’s rumored in Bushwick, but Greenpoint’s got the crown—for now.

Evans wants it annual, maybe a zine library next if cash flows. ‘NYC thrives on this—unpolished and real,’ he says, folding a fresh batch. The fest’s a middle finger to slick mags, pure Brooklyn soul. It’s messy, loud, and alive—zine life in the flesh. Swing by next time; bring scissors.