Gabriella Marcella
& RISOTTO Studio

I’m Gabriella Marcella, an artist, designer and the founder of RISOTTO Studio in Glasgow.

RISOTTO is a Risograph print and design studio, but I’ve always seen it as more than just a place that makes prints. It’s a production studio, a shop, a workshop space, a design practice and a bit of a playground for colour, paper and process.

We work across print, stationery, workshops, artist editions and brand collaborations, all with Risograph printing at the centre. The studio has grown around the machine’s very particular way of working: one colour at a time, slightly unpredictable, very graphic and never too perfect.

A lot of what we do is about taking something that could feel mechanical or technical, and making it feel warm, joyful and human. I’m interested in systems, but also in what happens when those systems are pushed, layered, misregistered or stretched a little too far.

I first discovered Risograph printing when I was studying independent publishing at Pratt Institute, in New York. I bought my first machine in 2010 and had it printing from my bedroom, which feels quite funny now, because it was the beginning of everything.

I was immediately drawn to how direct it felt. It was fast, graphic and physical. I liked that I could make something that felt finished, but still raw at the same time.

At that stage, I was making a lot of zines and printed experiments. The Riso gave me a way to get work off the screen quickly and into the world. It turned designing into something I could physically layer, test and build.

I also loved the limitations. The process is full of rules: one colour at a time, paper limits, drying time, ink coverage, machine moods. But I’ve always found creative freedom easier when there are parameters. It gives me something to push against.

I think my visual language has come from working very closely with the Risograph for a long time. The machine has a very specific personality, and I’ve spent years learning what it likes, what it hates and where the interesting accidents happen.

Colour is definitely the thing I return to again and again. I’m drawn to combinations that feel a bit fizzy on the eyes. I like colours that vibrate against each other, especially when they are layered and you get that extra third colour appearing through the overlap.

A favourite combination changes all the time, but I always love fluorescent pink with something earthy or unexpected, like burgundy. I like when one colour is shouting and the other one is holding it together.

RISO CLUB started in 2017 as a way to make artist editions feel affordable, collectable and able to travel. Each month, we invite a curator connected to a city or place, and they choose three more artists to create a set of four postcards. We print them by hand in Glasgow and post them to members around the world.

The structure is very simple, but over time it has become something much bigger. In November 2025, RISO CLUB reached its 100th issue, which means 100 months of artist postcards and over 400 works by artists from different cities, countries and creative scenes.

That accumulation is really the story. One issue is small. One envelope is small. One postcard is very small. But when you do it month after month, through all the normal chaos of running a studio, it starts to become an archive with real weight.

It was important to me that RISO CLUB didn’t feel like one fixed aesthetic. The format stays the same, but the voices change every month. It lets artists bring their own place, style and rhythm into the project.

Not at all. I don’t think I had a grand plan at the beginning. I had one machine, a lot of curiosity and a big appetite for making things.

RISOTTO grew quite naturally out of the work itself. I used the machine for my own projects, then for zines, then for other people’s artwork, then for workshops, stationery, collaborations and bigger design projects. Each part of the studio came from paying attention to what the process could do, and what people seemed to need from it.

The studio has stayed intentionally small, but the ambition has grown. I’m not really interested in growth for the sake of growth. I’m more interested in building something that has depth, character and a strong sense of purpose.

Now RISOTTO has a much bigger home in Glasgow, with proper space for production, workshops, storage, experiments and events. In a way, the studio has become a physical version of the process: colourful, practical, layered and always slightly in motion.

I’m excited by the places where print starts to move beyond paper.

That might be furniture, interiors, textiles, costumes, spaces or workshops. I’m interested in how a graphic language can become physical, and how colour and pattern can change the way people behave in a space.

Recently, I’ve been thinking a lot about RISOTTO as a kind of production playground. Not just a print studio, but a place where ideas can be tested through making. I like work that sits between design, art, performance and function, where it is not always clear what category it belongs to.

Glasgow’s creative spirit is not always in one obvious place. It’s in the energy of people making things happen with limited resources, often in slightly strange buildings, with a lot of humour and determination.

I’d always suggest visiting Good Press for independent publishing, zines and printed matter. The Modern Institute and Tramway are both brilliant for contemporary art. A walk around the Botanic Gardens followed by a pastry at Cotton rake is also a favourite thing to do!

I’m based at The Glue Factory, in the north of the city, which is a former industrial building now home to studios, workshops, events and creative production. That kind of space says a lot about Glasgow to me: practical, rough around the edges, generous and full of people building things from the ground up. We’re not open to the public, but people can keep an eye out for workshops and events via our mailing list or social media accounts.