The Alchemy of Risograph
I didn’t set out to fall in love with risograph, but its colour, texture, and imperfections gradually pulled me in.
I was aware of Risograph for a few years before I relented and started paying attention to it. To be honest, I wasn’t sure what the excitement was all about. Then I tried it – and I was hooked.
What first grabbed me were the inks.
Juicy, vibrant colours you don’t usually see in commercial printing: bubblegum pinks, jungle greens, tangerine oranges. Curiously, these inks are soy-based, making them a more environmentally considerate alternative to conventional petroleum-based inks.
Then there was the texture.
Risograph printing pushes ink through fine screens, creating nostalgic halftone patterns — the kind you’d expect to see in pulpy, vintage comic books. It’s printed on uncoated, textured paper so the ink can properly bind, resulting in finished prints that feel tactile in the hand.
Once I’d been drawn in, I became aware of the depth and complexity of the printing process.
It shares similarities with silkscreen printing — manual, hands-on, and physical — yet it’s driven by a digital machine that introduces automation and speed. Where most modern printing relies on four inks (CMYK) to reproduce images, Risograph offers more than twenty. Ripe for experimentation, it allows for endless combinations and unexpected effects.
Once I started printing artwork, I realised just how unpredictable it could be.
Imperfections are common. Prints can smudge. Inks are printed one colour at a time, and perfect alignment is notoriously difficult. But these limitations are also where its charm lives.
The authors of the book No Magic in Riso describe it perfectly:
“Rationally speaking, Risograph has too many flaws. But these flaws have brought so many surprises and conveniences that the flaws become beautiful in their imperfection.”
Now, after working with Risograph for the past twelve months, my overall impression is a kind of modern-day alchemy.
That alchemy casts a powerful spell. Travel to any major city in the world, find its creative fringe, and you’ll likely discover a Risograph studio with a devoted community of artists orbiting around it, drawn in by its magic.
One example of this is Hand Saw Press in Tokyo. It’s where I produced the Tiny Fables (Chibi Monogatari) collection #401-450, and the Risomorphs collection #451-500.


