The View From Tokyo: the fascinating origins, and triumphant resurgence, of Risograph in Japan
Our Tokyo correspondent explores the history and cultural importance of the Riso in its home country, and its continued impact on creative expression.
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In an era of digital precision, Risograph printing has carved out a unique niche in the art and design world, appreciated not only for its analogue charm but also as a tool for community organisation and collaboration. Developed by the Japanese corporation Riso Kagaku in the 1980s, the Risograph is a stencil-based printer that integrates the creation of a master stencil and actual printing within a single device, reducing printing costs. Although the Risograph has spread internationally and has become well-known for its artistic use, it is still primarily used as a low-cost printer for schools, hospitals, and government offices, making up a considerable 90 per cent of its use in Japan.
The Risograph had been on my mind because of a recent project where I worked with director Neo Sora on the promotional materials for his brilliant film, HappyEnd. The film is set at a Japanese high school in the near future, and on the surface, it’s a familiar coming-of-age drama centring on two best friends. As the film unfolds, it delves into topics of activism, institutionalised surveillance, and the tumult of racism that flares from social anxiety surrounding impending natural disasters – an issue that catalyses a rift between the two protagonists. HappyEnd is an unmistakable reflection of Sora’s continued engagement with the activist communities within Tokyo and beyond.
In the lead-up to the film’s release, one of the final PR items I worked on with Sora was a double-sided A3 Risograph print, sold at select theatres in Japan, with all proceeds directly supporting Gazan individuals and families. The front features a four-colour adaptation of the film’s poster, printed on warabanshi, an affordable, newsprint-like paper stock made from wood and recycled pulp that has a textured, nostalgic quality. The back is filled with a generous list of research sources, quotes, and references that informed Sora’s screenplay, encouraging viewers to engage with the film’s radical themes and consider how Japan’s colonial past can be translated to what is occurring in Palestine today.
Curious about his choice of Risograph for this project, I asked Sora directly, and his response was refreshingly straightforward: “Honestly it was because it was cheapest, haha. Since the purpose was to maximise the amount of money for donation, while retaining a quality people would want to buy, Riso was cheapest.” His answer captured the essence of Risograph printing – affordable, practical, and inherently accessible. While its aesthetic qualities may be a primary draw for artists and designers, the Risograph’s origins as a tool for quick and inexpensive dissemination of information align perfectly with Sora’s intent. Though the Risograph has long served community organisers, it’s interesting to see both big and small players adapting its use in novel ways for new audiences, keeping this resilient medium alive.
“There is an idealist principle in [Riso] that celebrates the freedom of expression and the power of shared information that is still echoed in its many loyal fans today.”
Ray Masaki
Risograph is Ideal
The origins of the word ‘Risograph’ reveal some of the idealistic principles behind its creation. I had mistakenly assumed ‘Risograph’ was a Japanese romanisation of ‘lithograph’, but it actually plays on the characters 理想 (risō), meaning ideal, which reflects the vision of Noboru Hayama, who founded Riso-sha (later Riso Kagaku) in 1946 during Japan’s post-war reconstruction. Hayama believed that people must “always pursue ideals to ensure the future” of Japan, a sentiment that would shape Riso Kagaku’s mission of creating accessible and democratic communication tools.
Interestingly, the Risograph’s legacy as a community-oriented tool started even earlier with another Riso Kagaku product, the Print Gocco (loosely translated to ‘pretend printer’), which debuted in 1977. This child-friendly, all-in-one device allowed users to expose a monochrome drawing onto a screen using disposable flash bulbs to create a stencil master and print their own holiday cards, or nengajō, to send out to friends and family. Not only was the Print Gocco wildly successful, with over ten million units sold before it was retired in 2008, but it also introduced self-publishing to a broad audience, shaking the notion that printing can only be done by professionals with specialised equipment.
Devices like the Print Gocco and the Risograph printer exist as accessible ways to teach the importance of communication. As a country with a relatively recent history of censorship during the Meiji Period and the post-war American occupation of Japan, there is an idealist principle in Riso Kagaku’s product that celebrates the freedom of expression and the power of shared information that is still echoed in its many loyal fans today.
“The hackability of the Riso printer naturally promotes a community of knowledge-sharing.”
Ray Masaki
Risograph Communities
The idealistic roots of the Risograph, combined with its accessibility, have helped it grow from a practical office machine into a tool of creative expression for designers, artists, and activists worldwide. Today, Risograph studios have become hubs for design experimentation and community collaboration in various forms.
There are spaces like Hand Saw Press in Tokyo’s Ota City that offer a variety of classes and workshops that foster inclusivity. Former Hand Saw employee Le Lin mentioned how he assisted their International Zine Exchange workshop in Kochi prefecture and taught kids in rural Japan how to make zines using the Risograph. Hand Saw also frequently hosts community workshops that require no prior design experience, like Memory Cookbook, a potluck and zine-making session where participants bring dishes tied to strong memories, later compiling them into a collective zine.
Sonoka Sagara, owner of Slogan, an independent Risograph press in Sangenjaya, believes that the hackability of the Riso printer naturally promotes a community of knowledge-sharing. After renting a Riso, Sagara eventually purchased her own so she could experiment freely with materials and techniques that were not permitted by the rental supplier. Working with a secondhand machine, she often found more useful information abroad than in Japan. With limited access to OEM technicians and supplies overseas, shared knowledge is vital to maintaining and experimenting with the Risograph. Vivian Wang, co-editor of No Magic In Riso, echoes this, noting that some designers even prefer older Riso models to bypass its security features so that they can load custom inks.
Copy Corner is a surprising new addition to Tokyo’s Risograph scene, opening in 2024. Situated in Harajuku’s busy shopping district, Copy Corner is introducing the Risograph to entirely new audiences with daily objects like notebooks, clocks, and calendars designed in collaboration with local artists and designers and printed with Risograph. Copy Corner is owned by one of the largest stationery brands in Japan, Kokuyo, which is known for its mass-manufactured stationery products, like the Campus Notebook. While people associate the company with their perfect final products, at Copy Corner, a visitor can see how each product has one-of-a-kind scratches and details. Hinano Ikeda, a member of Copy Corner, describes the space as a “local bakery”, where items can be conceived, created, and sold on-site, allowing a peek into a process usually hidden.
However, Copy Corner is aware of its unique position in this niche community. Given that Risographs have been used to amplify individual voices, they see how some may perceive a large company in this space as commercialising a grassroots platform. Yet Copy Corner also sees this as an opportunity for this experimental shop. Because it’s located in a centre for commerce in Tokyo, perhaps there are new experiences that can only be explored because of their privileged position – like someday converting passive consumers into active makers by sharing the joys of creation. The team there spoke of how the immediacy and ease of the Risograph’s operation, adjusting, and iteration make it the perfect device for teaching novices the principles and joys of printing.
From young children learning to make their first zine, to small studios creating community workshops, to corporations introducing printing to entirely new audiences, the Risograph’s enduring appeal lies in its ability to democratise art and publishing, turning printing into an open, collaborative experience that reminds us of the power and warmth of human expression.
Ray shares some ways you can immerse yourself further in Tokyo’s print culture, and more info on some of the tips shared in his column.
- Visit Copy Corner on the third floor of the trendy new shopping mall in Harajuku, Harakado. The mall also has a public bath in the basement, which is strange but cool!
- Tokyo Art Book Fair is happening from 28 November 28 – 1 December. Hand Saw Press and Copy Corner are included in the many exhibitors.
- Neo Sora’s film HappyEnd is still screening in Japan. There will occasionally be English-subtitled screenings, so follow their Instagram for more info!
- The Printing Museum in Bunkyo City, Tokyo is a great place to learn about the history of printing in Japan. Highly recommend if you’re visiting.
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About the Author
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Ray Masaki is a Japanese-American graphic designer, writer, and educator in Tokyo who runs Studio RAN. He studied illustration at Parsons School of Design, type design at The Cooper Union, and received an MFA in graphic design from the Vermont College of Fine Arts. He teaches at the Professional Institute of International Fashion in Shinjuku, Tokyo. In 2021, Ray published Why is the salaryman carrying a surfboard? — a bilingual book about the history of systemic white supremacy and Westernisation in the Japanese design industry. He is It’s Nice That’s Tokyo correspondent.