These days, everyone has a platform to voice their opinions online. Posting their holiday pics to political rants, home-cooking videos to fashion outlooks. But some are choosing to preserve their stories offline through a photocopied zine to be kept in one’s drawer, with the idea to outlast platforms and algorithms. Archiving voices that might otherwise vanish in a digital scroll.

 

Having been around since the early 20th century, zines have been a big part of underground publication, where amateur printers publish their thoughts for political activism and community building outside of traditional publishing. Hand-drawn graphics, pasted photos, all printed in small batches using a photocopier to reduce cost. This movement continues until today with even more variety of topics and themes, becoming a form of self-expression without the need for validation from others. “You can publish whatever you want without thinking of your client or publisher’s opinion, as zines are yours and yours only,” said Howard Brawidjaya from Harapan Prima Printing at the Zine and Seen event (17/09). 

 

Zine collections from Graffistory

 

Collaborating with graffiti magazine archiver Graffistory, Harapan Prima created this gathering event to discuss zines from various perspectives: artists, collectors, publishers, and printers. Artists today are enthusiastic about producing their own zines, including Adi Dhigelz, a visual artist from Grafis Huru Hara who often does manual printing. “Artists are often constrained by budget, but I believe we can print with what we have and what we can,” said Adi. "I've tried creating a zine with foil inside boxed drinks. That was an interesting experience."

 

Budi Cole (Moderator), Adi Dhigelz (Grafis Huru Hara), and Ridwan (Graffistory)

 

Another artist, Alphabad, notes how zines can carry personal and raw thoughts—something that online archives can’t quite capture. It also allows artists to convey their perspective through both visuals and writing. “Some zines share in-depth stories with information we can’t find online. There’s this zine titled “Solok Dari Warga” that beautifully captures personal stories and history from local perspectives,” shared Alphabad. In a way, a zine becomes a medium to document things that are tricky to share online. “There’s this zine that documents graffiti from the 2000s,” shared Ridwan from Graffistory. Some of them might be classified as vandalism or damage to property, so it’s better to just spread the archive within the community.

Washtag Mini Zine by Dskl Artwear (2013) 

 

The spirit of zines has never faded. For many artists, they’re a legacy—something that might outlast digital storage, whose durability remains uncertain. Yet print itself isn’t free from fragility. Yellowing pages, brittle paper—these are constant challenges for zine makers.

 

Peter Natadihardja from Paperina suggests a simple practice: keep zines in a safe place, closed tightly after reading. While some papers are certified chlorine- and acid-free—marketed as resistant to yellowing—the most effective way to preserve them is to limit exposure to air and oxidation. Still, you get what you pay for. If you want your work to last, invest in good-quality paper. Howard also emphasizes the importance of talking to printers early—long before the design is finalized—so your work can be produced at its best. Don’t wait until the very end to figure out how it will actually be made.

 

Alphabad, Howard Brawidjaya (Harapan Prima Printing), and Peter Natadihardja (Paperina)

 

Today, print runs are smaller, but the number of titles is multiplying. Artists might produce just 100-200 copies, sometimes without a publisher, made purely for self-expression or shared within a close circle. Some also embrace print-on-demand, printing only a single copy for exhibitions and producing more only when requested, thereby avoiding unnecessary waste.

 

Zine and Seen Intimate Talk by Harapan Prima Printing and Graffistory (2025)

 

Even in these modest numbers, the smallest publications never lose their weight. Fragile, intimate, and meaningful, they endure in ways that digital never promises.