For Olivia Olson-Roberts ‘25, zines are a way of life. Originally from Portland, Oregon, she was always inspired by zine culture growing up. But it was only during her co-op at Gallery 360 that DIY publishing became professionally relevant.

As an art history and visual art combined major, Olivia was thrilled by the level of variety in their work at the university’s contemporary art space. One day could call for a deep-dive of curatorial research, and another might require hands-on installation tasks at the gallery. 

When the time came for Olivia to do an independent project at the co-op, zines were a no-brainer. With a collaborative zine, she combined her longtime passion for zines with her new skills in curatorial writing. 

Zines as curatorial work

It all started with a still life. At the Portland Art Museum one summer, Olivia was struck by a series of still life paintings. They were blown away by the thought and care that went into these images. By some strange coincidence, after leaving the museum, Olivia came across a bunch of grapes and strawberries that had fallen onto the ground.  What was once a thoughtfully prepared meal had gone to waste. Moved by the contrast between those careful paintings and that carelessly dropped fruit, Olivia was inspired to create a zine dedicated to food. 

For the publication—aptly titled Eat Your Heart Out—Olivia collected student submissions through an open call, gathering poems, stories and drawings from Northeastern students about what food means to them. The pieces include wide-ranging works, from a personal anecdote about lobster fishing and a poem about pomegranates to an old family recipe for lemon loaf. Olivia carefully laid these all out in InDesign, sprinkling her own drawings throughout. Next came the time to write an introduction. 

After writing exhibition labels for the gallery, Olivia was prepared to analyze specific artworks, in this case pieces like Felix González-Torres’ 1991 Untitled (Portrait of Ross in L.A.). Rather than making an academic argument, though, the essay’s main purpose was to introduce and frame the student submissions anecdotally. That was a new challenge. 

“I feel confident in my ability to write an academic art history paper,” Olivia said, “but incorporating my own experience into a piece of writing was new for me.” Her supervisor, Center for the Arts Director Juliana Barton, helped Olivia think about how to complement the art historical analysis with an engaging personal narrative. 

The editing process was a learning experience. “Whether it’s stuff that I wrote for the wall labels in the gallery, or something like this,” Olivia said, “striking this balance between academic and approachable writing about art is so interesting.”

“Curatorial writing requires a delicate balance of exposition and interpretation,” Barton added. “Weaving personal narrative into such writing reminds the reader that there’s a real human behind the words.” 

Cross-campus collaborations

Next, it was time to print. Given Olivia’s art-making background and interest in the handmade, Barton recommended that she print the covers at Huskiana, Northeastern’s letterpress studio. 

Nestled in Holmes Hall, Huskiana is a hidden campus gem run by history professor Jessica Linker and English faculty member Isabel Sobral Campos. The two of them are the driving force behind the press, stocking the collection and teaching community members how to use the machine.

“The thing that’s been really cool about this process,” Olivia said, “is that I’ve been able to work with Jessica and Isabel every step of the way.”

Huskiana has an impressive collection of letters—over a dozen different fonts—that Olivia laid out on a track for the cover. Then, they added small wooden or metal blocks, called “furniture,” which surround the base and hold the design in place. The blocks are “not quite perfect,” Olivia said, which gives them that handmade, quirky look.

Even just the process of laying out the letters took over two hours. “You don’t realize how time consuming it is,” Olivia said. While sifting through the dozens of fonts at Huskiana, they gained a new appreciation for the time and care that goes into indie publishing. 

Once everything was laid out, Olivia printed just 100 copies. Powered manually, the letterpress has a big ink pad and a large wheel that she had to put her whole body into to turn—another time-consuming part of the process. Finally, Olivia hand-bound the zines herself, punching holes in the sheets with a pin and stringing embroidery floss through them. 

Eat Your Heart Out was a limited-run publication, so the 100 copies are going to Olivia’s friends and family, as well as to everyone who helped with the zine — including students, CAMD faculty and Gallery 360 staff. Olivia even hand-numbered the pages to give them a personal feel.

Takeaways

In a co-op that’s largely centered on curatorial work, learning the analog techniques of printmaking was a welcome break from the computer screen. 

“Printing the covers was probably my favorite part of the process,” said Olivia. “I’m also an artist, and I have my studio practice. So to actually be able to create something tangible with my hands that I can touch and feel has been so rewarding.”

Gallery 360 curator Juliana Barton always gives co-ops an independent project to work on during their six months. For Barton, those are a crucial part of the working world and a great way to learn skills like project management.

Olivia liked working with Huskiana so much that after wrapping up their co-op at Gallery 360, they’ll be joining the press as a part-time staff member this spring. They’ll be paying it forward in that role, helping other people use Huskiana’s resources and bring their own creative projects to life. 

“It was great just seeing that people are interested in small batch publications,” Olivia said, “and about writing these personal stories and finding community in these funny, weird ways.”

More than an art project, Eat Your Heart Out was an opportunity to enjoy one of the most exciting aspects of curatorial work: bringing people together. 

“Especially in the age of social media, having something physical is so powerful,” she said. “These things are really gonna have a life of their own, and there’s only going to be 100 of them. So that makes them really special.”