Antenne Presents: Why Print Matters

Opening the conversation, Vallance posed to each panelist when they first fell in love with printed material. For Ndatira, who grew up in Johannesburg, South Africa, it began with fashion magazines, particularly Vogue. Sumner traced his interest back to magazines and design, which gradually evolved into publishing and collecting. Across the panel, these early experiences revealed a shared sensibility: print as both an entry point and an enduring anchor.

Williams described a more unexpected origin story. During lockdown, she found herself drawn into what she described as a “wormhole” of research sparked by Andrew Wharton’s written material and an evolving fascination with Princess Diana. Through daily routines – walks, archival image gathering, sketching – her project took shape, guided by what she called a “strange synchronicity and magic.” What began with humour developed into something more layered, rooted in intuition and curiosity, ultimately leading to her collection of zines comparing Diana’s fashion to wild mushrooms.

For Gross, Lichen Books emerged from an art foundation context, driven by a simple but ambitious question: how can we make a better book? That inquiry gained urgency during COVID, when the physicality of books became even more meaningful. Lichen continues to operate with a self-sustaining model, reinvesting profits into future publications, prioritising emerging artists, and producing books that are both accessible and thoughtfully made.

Ndatira reflected on his own trajectory into print, noting that his engagement deepened after moving to London, particularly through his work on Issue 11 of Boy.Brother.Friend. Before that, his curatorial instincts played out online – collecting and sharing imagery via early platforms like Tumblr and Instagram, at a time when the latter was still dominated by personal snapshots. His eye for curation quickly gained attention, eventually attracting figures such as John Galliano.

Themes of nostalgia, ephemera, and material sensitivity ran throughout the discussion. Sumner spoke about his attraction to objects that carry memory – bags, paper, colour, and texture – and how these elements inform his publishing practice. He described projects like To Have & To Hold which have been printed on delicate bible paper, designed to echo the fragility of the objects they reference. For him, print is inseparable from touch, sequence, and experience – the act of turning a page.

Williams highlighted the accessibility and sincerity of zine culture, referencing both her own work and a personal lineage – her uncle’s zines from the 1970s. She described zines as a “perfect medium”: immediate, honest, and community-driven. This grassroots network, supported by independent bookshops and an ethos of openness, continues to nurture new voices. Her advice to those wanting to start out? Don’t let fear stand in the way of ambition, and start with your own community. 

The panel also touched on shifting economies within publishing. Ndatira noted how advertising budgets have migrated toward social media, travel, and brand experiences, while companies like Apple have begun reinvesting in print and cultural production. Despite these changes, the panelists agreed that print persists precisely because of its independence from digital ephemerality.

Gross emphasised that beyond concept or content, the ultimate goal is to create something tangible – an object that holds feeling, that exists beyond the screen, and can return as a point of reference. “The most important thing,” he suggested, “is the feeling” – a sentiment that resonated across the room.

As the evening drew to a close, one idea remained clear: print is not simply surviving – it is evolving through care, intention, and community. In a world of infinite scroll, the physical book, zine, or magazine continues to offer something distinct: a space to pause, to hold, and to remember.