Lina Ehrentraut & Eva Gräbeldinger

I’m really excited about this, because I have enjoyed featuring event art from both of you in the archive. And you’re also working behind the scenes to make events— a lot of events in Leipzig, actually—with Squash collective. So yeah, welcome Lina and Eva!

We’re here at the new space, Jelly, which we’ll get into in a little bit. I was really happy to be able to have some time today to look around. I like the open vibe. Also, the little zine library you’re starting. That is a unique thing in Leipzig.

I’m interested in the origins of Squash. How did the collective come together?

L: When we first started, we really wanted to do things. We all studied at HGB, four of us in the same class, and this was the start. Because they don’t really teach comics at HGB. It’s more illustration and a little bit old fashioned. We wanted to do something outside of school, and we started with publishing our own zines.

E: Also working together, actually doing something together. And exchange about that.

L: We did this for two years. We were traveling to other cities and taking part in comic events. And after this, three of us graduated, and we were like, now we don’t have the structure of the school anymore. We saw more than ever the need of doing something for the people who are finished with their studies, or didn’t even study in the field, which is a lot of people.

E: It’s also hard to study, because most of the universities are not focused on comics.

L: There was a big comic festival in Leipzig, Millionaires Club, and they stopped doing it during the pandemic. And we were like, “Okay, now it’s our time.”

E: And we had support from them about how and where to get funding in the beginning. Then we founded Snail Eye, and also had to be an official Verein to do that. And so that was kind of the reason to get more people involved. Like it was a formal reason, which we had in mind before, to grow bigger, but that was the initiative.

How do you work together as a collective? Are there roles, or is it more fluid and shared? And how many people are there now in Squash?

E: Actually, we are officially 15. But for the work we do, there are a lot more people. For example with Snail Eye, you don’t have to be an official member. You just join the organization group and see what you can do, what you want to do. There’s also no hierarchy or fixed tasks or something. It’s just more about, ‘okay, we have to do this and this’. It's kind of spontaneous.

L: Yeah, and roles are organized by event. I think this is more because for us, it was the most practical thing to do. So when we want to do an event, or somebody wants to do a book or something, then people can join them. So most of the time one or two people are at the head of an event. Or, for example now with the space, it’s like three people who are really into it and organizing it—the two of us and Geordie too. Then there are some more who are supporting.

This is really nice, because I think otherwise, we wouldn’t have managed to do more than Snail Eye. It’s really a lot of work to organize a big festival. And right now it’s developed that there are some new people who are doing the work for Snail, which we already have a lot of structure for. They can just do tasks, or think of something new. In the last two months, the both of us weren’t that much into organizing the festival—more as a supportive background than really pushing things. I think for me, it feels really healthy to do it like this, and not so stressful.

Yeah, totally. This comes after years of experience and structure building. Now you can delegate tasks.

E: I mean, now we’re doing the festival for the fifth time. So, yeah, the structure grew and the team grew. Coming of age.

That’s amazing. So what was the initial inspiration to make Snail Eye?

L: I think at first it was really, “Okay, we need a comic festival in the city.” It just has to be there, because there are a lot of comic artists here and no events.

E: I mean, you can study illustration at HGB, but then it’s really weird that there is not a connecting point out of the academy to the broader scene. So it’s really good to have something where people can meet from different cities, from different countries, and have that exchange and maybe have an idea for projects together.

L: From the beginning of planning the festival, we wanted to make it all really open to people. So that’s why we always do a lot of open calls. This is one of our most important values.

E: Easy to access. You don’t have to have much money, you don’t have to be academic.

L: This is what was the most important for us.

Cool. So a low entry level for people who want to participate. Is that different from what you’ve seen in other festivals?

L: I mean, we didn’t think of the idea of open calls. Because that’s something we saw somewhere. But I think there are differences in how many things you can apply for, or how you can be part of it.

E: Open calls were not that special for festivals, it was more like for certain magazines or anthologies. I think for comic festivals, it has been rare that they have exhibitions. And now it’s getting more like that.

L: Yeah, because of the pandemic we decided to not just do a fair, because most comic festivals are really built on the fair, which is also nice, but it’s a whole different thing.

When we started, we couldn’t do a fair because it was not allowed to have that many people in one room. So we decided to do a festival which is more focused on the program, really. And after we did it, because of the circumstances, we were like, ah, that’s actually really cool, and we want to continue it.

I was taking a look at last year’s festival on your website, the open call you did, and the different stations and events. What are some of the most memorable moments from the past editions of Snail Eye? Do you have any specific highlights?

L: Yeah, actually two years ago there was a big group from France here two weeks before the festival. They built a crazy exhibition, and we also had an epic party and concert the night before the festival. This was really nice, having the artists here before the festival. Because during the festival, there's always a lot of running around, making coffee, blah blah blah. And this was something I enjoyed a lot—to hang out with people and see how they work.

E: Yeah, and this collective is very multimedia. They’re doing comics and doing a lot of storytelling, but also with songs, performance and fashion. That was also exactly what we dreamed for Squash. I mean, we are also a mixed group. They’re not only visual artists, they’re also musicians. Everyone has their own hobby.

L: With the new room, it feels more like we could also have a space for working here with a lot of people. This is something I’m very excited about. To see how other people work. One of the things I enjoyed the most when we first started Squash—we were just meeting for two or three days, and sitting there, drawing and listening to music. It was the sweetest thing ever.

Yeah, let’s get into the new space, Jelly, where we are having this conversation. What led to this decision to open a space for Squash? Was this always part of the plan for the collective?

E: It was always a dream to have a fixed location where we can meet. Also, really pragmatic—where we can have our meetings for Snail Eye organization. But also, of course, the bigger dream was to have a space which is open and inviting to do stuff and work together.

L: We met Colette (from Slug) because we did an exhibition there. She’s been doing the gallery space there for some time now. We both really enjoy what each other are doing. So we thought, maybe we can sit next to each other and really benefit from it.

E: It was like we were looking for a space, and it was just a random talk, and then Colette said, “Oh, I would love to have something like Squash in that space.”

Nestled here between Vary and Slug, it’s a nice little row of spaces. It’s been really fun to watch people just wander in today.

L: I was really happy about it. So cute. People just go out there in the sunshine and are like, “Oh, what is it?”

What has been one of the biggest challenges with opening this space?

L: It’s always money, because we really don’t pay each other most of the time. Sometimes we get some funding and can get a little bit out of it. But for me, and also for you (Eva), sometimes we don’t do jobs in our regular life, so we can do something here. So it’s super exhausting sometimes.

We had good luck in winning a competition recently. It was about upcycling ideas. And because we are so DIY, we made glasses for our last festival and put them in there, and we won. Then it was like, “Now we can buy materials and finally realize the space.”

Also, we have an ongoing funding program which is really nice. We got it last year. It’s for one year, and we can do one or two events a month with it. So this was really a good start. We had some money for building the space, paying the rent.

I think being an independent project, money is always one of the biggest challenges. I mean, it’s all non-commercial, and we love it like this. But, you have to think about how much time it takes—to build a festival, to run a space—and that work is done for free a lot of the time. Which leads to the fact that independent art spaces are becoming more and more rare. What role do you see Jelly space playing in Leipzig’s cultural landscape?

E: I think it can be a space where people can meet. A social space. It’s more than just one exhibition or something. One exhibition can be really nice and important, but more important is that it’s an ongoing thing, and sustainable. And more and more people can get involved and find reasons why they spend their time with this and that.

Also to minimize the cleft between professionals and people who are not academically educated in arts—which is also one thing we always didn’t like.

L: We don’t want to compare it to other art spaces, because it’s comics. In a lot of art spaces, people are like, “This isn’t real art.” I think Germany has it difficult, really—“It’s for children and it’s not serious” and stuff like this. So for me, it feels important to make a space where comics can be shown as a medium which has a lot of different sides and ways to tell stories.

I think with Slug, and maybe also with other things, it’s nice to combine comics in a different context and see how everything comes together and not make strict lines between all the things we’re doing. Because, as you said, it’s really the same struggle for everyone.

Definitely, in subcultures, we struggle in a similar way. Blurring the lines can only help. And the vision of such a space, like both of you just said—not only being a specific thing for exhibitions or for zines, but really being more of a community art space. Welcoming people. And you already showed that being really important for Squash and Snail Eye—that people could join the festival who don’t have a published zine or an academic arts background.

So how can people get involved? Either with Snail Eye, or here at the new space with the collective?

L: For Snail Eye, we have this real structure of how you can get in. Every autumn, before the planning really starts, we make one big meeting where everybody who wants to join the organization of the festival gets all the information about how everything works. And we also have a group for people who just want to make a cake for the festival, or something like this, or help with building up one exhibition or something.

E: We do that with open calls: cake open call, helping open call.

L: And for Jelly… For now, we don’t have the structure yet, because it just opened. We were also surprised. I think for Jelly you can just write to us and come by. I think this is the easiest and coolest thing.

So what is next for Squash? If you could imagine 5–10 years in the future, the ideal vision—what does that look like?

L: For some parts, I think that far ahead, and for some I don’t. For example, for the festival, I feel like in five years, I hope that other people than us are doing it and doing it really nicely, because I think it’s a really good thing to have changes in the festival. We already had this—for example, when the people who are selecting the open call for the exhibitions or readings change from year to year, other kinds of comics are getting in. And I think this is something really cool.

E: It would also really not be our vibe of easy accessibility if we wouldn’t do it like that.

L: For me, it’s important that things change from time to time. So this is really my wish—that things are changing and new people get in. But you can’t really control it, so it’s not a very specific plan.

E: I would love to see that it will still exist in 10 years. But, I also think that making plans that far ahead is something which makes the goal die. Because then it’s like, “Oh no, now we have to kill our darlings” or “Now we have to make compromises,” or something. Maybe it’s easier to go with whatever is happening and what the needs are also, and what people want to join.

Okay, last question: any dream collaborations or artists that you’d love to work with?

E: I think we would love to have more overseas connections, which unfortunately hasn’t been happening. Because it’s too expensive and really, really hard to get funding for that. We had some—people sent things to us and we exhibited them—but of course it would be great if we could have the actual artists in person there. For example, in Hungary there is a comic scene which is really cute and funny.

Well, I’m excited for Snail Eye. I’m excited to come back to Jelly. And I’m really happy to learn more about the collective, the space, the festival, and the vision. Thank you.

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This conversation for eos archive was hosted by the project's founder, Micky Arratoon. Micky looks forward to hosting more conversations with those who are shaping and redefining subculture in Leipzig, Berlin and beyond. Get in touch to say hello@eosarchive.app.