Johanna Marcadé-Mot: Is this your space? It looks quite spacious.

This is our place, a space for various people. It’s a place for those trying to create their own projects.

Johanna: That’s wonderful. How many people are involved, and for how long have you been running it?

So far, it’s just the two of us, and it’s been about three years. We have a few assistants and partners, though.

Johanna: I’m watching FANTASIA’s activities on Instagram, but it looks like a huge project for two people. We’re used to working with about ten people on a regular basis.

It seems that way. Your activities look attractive, but I don't fully understand what you do, so I’d love to hear more today.

Johanna: Yes, the text on our website is probably confusing too, right? It’s really hard to define what we do because we are a very complex and diverse network of activities.

You both are the founders and the organizers of these activities, right?

Milica Ivić: Yes, that’s correct.

Johanna: However, there are many people involved. A wide variety of people participate actively in the organization or projects.

How do you pronounce “Matrijaršija” by the way?

Joanna: Ma-tri-yar-shi-ya.

Oh my!

Joanna: Haha, sorry. It’s not the friendliest name for foreigners, is it?

What does it mean?

Milica: It’s a word that doesn’t actually exist. But in Serbian, it has a realistic sound, like it's not nonsense.

So it has a sound that suggests some kind of meaning.

Milica: In Serbian, there’s a word “patrijaršija,” which refers to patriarch. It means the head institution that runs the Serbian Orthodox Church. Like the Vatican for Roman Christians. We took it from that. Matrijaršija was founded by several different groups coming together. It’s like a governing body that unites multiple organizations. The name carries that nuance.

First, could you tell me about how it all began? It started with several groups coming together, right?

Milica: We started using the name "Matrijaršija" in 2014, exactly ten years ago. At that time, we began using a large house as a base. Before that, we had already been working as separate groups and organizing festivals together, but having a physical space allowed everyone to come together. We wanted to create something more permanent—a kind of organization, not just a temporary event or art collective.

So having a physical base was the catalyst for forming the organization.

Milica: We operated that house as a silkscreen printing studio. We worked there and carried out various activities, bringing together the things everyone was doing individually. Matrijaršija never existed as a legal entity, but is really like in a hardcore institution. Each of us has our own affiliated group, and Matrijaršija emerged as an overarching concept that unites them.

I see. So it's like a large vessel that encompasses different groups.

Joanna: It was roughly formed by two main collectives. The group I belonged to was called the "NOVO DOBA Festival." We had been organizing that festival for five years before Matrijaršija came to be. It’s a festival focused on zines and posters.

That sounds like a fun festival.

Joanna: You invited Sarah Kravitz from FAWW Gallery in London to Japan, didn’t you? The posters she handled are similar to what we feature.

Yes, seeing them in person, they were incredibly avant-garde posters.

What kind of space is your workshop?

Milica: Our first base was that small house I mentioned earlier. It was also our living space. We later moved, and our current base is in a former factory. It was in a bad condition, practically a ruin, but it provides enough space for us.

Is there a printing studio inside?

Johanna: Yes, it’s inside. The space is divided into three rooms—one is a workshop for silkscreen printing, one is a big space for painting and workshops and riso printing, and the last one is used as an archive. We have shelves there for storing posters and books we’ve made over the years.

Sounds like a spacious area.

Johanna: Combined, the two rooms are about 100 to 150 square meters. This is the largest space we’ve ever had, and it’s unlikely we’ll have something like this again. The rent is very low. In return, rain sometimes seeps into the workspace, and the heating doesn’t work well in the harsh winter. Still, it’s a fantastic place where many people can gather, and we can paint large murals on the walls.

It seems like different people visit your base daily. Is it open to everyone?

Johanna: Is it open to everyone… it’s hard to say. Our first house was isolated from the city, so we used it just for ourselves. Now, we’re more open than we were back then. We host print workshops and share our activities with people. However, at the same time we kind of choose who we work with to some extent.

For example, if I came to Belgrade, would it be okay to drop by unannounced?

Johanna: You’d need to contact us in advance. We don’t have set hours. We might not reply quickly, but we’ll get back to you within an hour, probably. *laughs*

Sounds like a very personal operation. Is someone working there right now, for example?

Johanna: I think Alex might be there today, and someone could be printing. There’s a festival for the skate culture scene in Belgrade, and there’s a workshop tomorrow. People from the skate scene will probably come, draw, and print. The atmosphere here changes daily, and so do the work hours. Some people show up unannounced, but we might not always be there.

Do you frequently organize events like print workshops?

Johanna: We don’t have a regular schedule. Just yesterday, Milica ran a monotype technique workshop using silkscreen in another Serbian city. It’s not always organized by us, either. We also participate as guests, like International Graphic Print Biennale.

So you’re active internationally as well. How extensive is your network?

Milica: Over the past decade, we’ve expanded our connections from Belgrade to various regions in Serbia and throughout Europe. Many of the posters from Matrijaršija feature works by external artists. We have connections in Croatia and Slovenia, too. Distance isn’t such a big issue within Europe, especially since Johanna is originally from France.

I see. So you’re connected with the scene in France as well.

Milica: She came to live in Serbia like 16 years ago. She was a really important point of connection with France. Thanks to her, we’ve been able to closely collaborate with the French scene since the beginning. There’s a strong, vibrant silkscreen printing community in France with extensive experience.

It sounds like you’ve built a network that’s almost like a web. Before hearing this, I saw Matrijaršija as just one place, but now it feels like this network itself represents Matrijaršija.*

Milica: It’s not overly ambitious, but it’s a kind of distribution network. Thanks to our many collaborators, we can go to other festivals to sell prints and exhibit. We’re also a hub for distributing prints.

For example, when an artist creates a print at your base, how are the finished poster works handled?

Milica: We don't really get paid from the artist. The prints are divided between those that Matrijaršija sells and those given to the artist. Through our network, we distribute the work so it can reach more people and travel farther, even reaching places like Japan. It’s like a big family of artworks journeying around the world.

I imagine that kind of structure developed naturally.

Milica: It’s thanks to having many friends. We may not provide artists with huge market opportunities, but we offer something different. Festivals become excellent opportunities, allowing their work to travel worldwide. From the perspective of an artist’s career, it’s unique, offering much broader reach than working solo.

You mentioned this earlier, but you also have a gallery in Belgrade, right?

Johanna: Yes, we took over a gallery located in the city center. It’s a space with nine large panels, which originally displayed film posters. We were asked if we could manage it as a gallery.

It’s completely on the street, right?

Milica: It’s been a gallery for 11 years, and we’ve been managing it for the past five. Currently, it’s the only street gallery in Belgrade. We hold exhibitions there about twice a month. It’s not a white cube; it’s outdoors, exposed to various weather conditions and visible to passersby. It’s open day and night. It’s a really cool place, truly the best gallery in the city.

Yes, I was really surprised when I first saw that place.

Milica: It’s the only gallery where people can stop by on their way home, even a bit drunk at night. In a typical gallery, behavior is more regulated.

You sell posters on your website as well. Are those works by Matrijaršija's own artists, or are they by collaborating external artists?

Johanna: We create them with a mix of people. Some are members of the collective, others are guests who came for the festival, and sometimes it’s just people we hit it off with who wanted to make a poster together. When we come across someone’s artwork we like, we print it and share the prints with the creator.

So they’re works by both internal and external people, yet they’re also Matrijaršija’s creations.

Johanna: You could say they’re like our own publications, posters made for ourselves.

Do you create anything besides those posters?

Johanna: Yes, we also do commissioned printing for artists, either as a service or contract work. These aren’t only for artists in Belgrade but also from all over Europe, and even from Mexico. We don’t put those commissioned works on the website, though.

It sounds like you’re connected with a lot of artists.

Johanna: We’ve been printing for over 10 years now. Before we had our own base, we would go to other places to print. In Berlin, we made a lot of posters at a friend’s place. Eventually, we set up our own print studio, so we can print anytime.

What kinds of artists are at your base?

Milica: There are famous superstars as well as unknown artists. Some of the artists have intellectual disabilities. We call them "Bitlsti." They are part of us, too.

That’s a fascinating aspect of Matrijaršija.

Milica: Matrijaršija doesn’t discriminate between artists. It’s one big family.

How do you choose who is the part of the community family and who is not? Do you have something like a membership list?

Johanna: We don’t have a list or membership cards. It’s more of a feeling of being close to certain people. Meeting people is like an electric current—rhythm, energy, music. Some people fit, and some don’t. Sometimes someone comes wanting to print something, and eventually, they start coming regularly. It’s a natural, unplanned process.

Do you have specific roles within the organization?

Milica: Johanna takes responsibility for the visual aspects and selecting artwork. She’s the only one who was a professional in silkscreen printing from the start. She can look at an image and immediately see how it can be expressed in print.

So a lot of the quality of the work is thanks to Johanna’s expertise.

Milica: Yes, and there are people who have learned from her. Now we have a community of people involved in silkscreen printing, but Johanna was the starting point. I learned how to print from her and even how to experiment with it.

Johanna: I handle color separation as an experienced member, but over the past ten years, we’ve shared the printing process with everyone in the collective. In recent years, a younger generation of artists and printmakers has joined. They bring a fresh approach to printing, which is a great experience for us. There’s a wonderful dynamic happening.

Milica: Still, when it comes to handling images—breaking down artwork into color layers and deciding how it will work in screen printing—Johanna is the boss.

So, there’s no membership list, just a loosely organized group of operators, managers, and people who teach printing, all working together to maintain and manage the space and assist visitors.

Johanna: Exactly. We always communicate everything through a group chat, with maybe 12 or 14 people. We discuss everything there. If someone wants to come and print, we talk about who’s available to help. Every day, we decide who’s doing what right there in the chat.

So, there are 14 key members in the chat?

Johanna: Uh, I think it’s about that many.

Milica: Oh, actually, it’s 17. I just checked.

Are any of them from outside Serbia?

Johanna: I’m from France, and my partner is from Croatia. Two others are based in Sweden now—they used to be part of Matrijaršija but moved to Sweden a few years ago and have their own workshop there. They’re still in the chat. The rest are mostly people from Belgrade.

Milica: Fifteen of us are in Belgrade and involved in the daily organization—printing, workshops, managing and participating in festivals, other events, and also running our street gallery.

I notice that the word "festival" comes up often when we talk about your activities. Japan also has events like art book fairs, but the festivals organized by Matrijaršija seem a bit different.

Johanna: In Europe, there are a lot of zine festivals. They’re very common, especially in France, where I’m from. Every city has one, and there’s a network around them. Serbia originally had zine festivals too, but they had disappeared by the time I moved here. Now, zine-making in Belgrade is flourishing again.

You mean the NOVO DOBA Festival you were part of?

Johanna: Yes. We needed a place where people could bring their zines and prints—a meeting point for the former Yugoslav region. Just as I came from France, festivals allow us to bring people together from far away and connect with other scenes. We even brought artists from Scandinavia.

Festivals aren’t just sales opportunities; they’re a culture of their own.

Johanna: Yes, you create art, print it, make zines, and then organize your first festival. We know many people in other countries who’ve been doing such things. We’ve met so many people who share a love and friendship for printmaking, people with a similar sensibility to ours.

People with whom you can share a love and friendship for the culture.

Johanna: For example, there’s an artist in Spain named Martín López Lam. He’s a dedicated comic artist who also creates prints with a painterly approach. He organizes two festivals in Valencia, one in summer and one in winter. What’s common among people in this network is their self-driven attitude—they make their own decisions and make things happen.

It’s a culture of self-initiative.

Johanna: It’s incredibly fulfilling. We’re constantly active, meeting people and supporting each other.

Milica: This is a network of friendships and shared understanding. For everyone, it’s a deeply personal activity.

Festivals, parties, printings—everything about Matrijaršija’s activities seems to carry this wild energy, almost a punk attitude. Is this a kind of stance toward society?

Milica: Yes, you could say it visually represents our attitude. It’s one of the things that defines Matrijaršija. The visuals have been a big part of what draws people in from the beginning, right, Johanna?

Johanna: You could call it wild. We love the energy of zines and comics—filling every inch of the paper with as many elements as possible, using bold colors, completely disrupting the color sequence. When fewer colors overlap, it creates new, unexpected hues. That’s where we pour our passion. Through printing, especially with colors, we want to explore every possible experiment.

You’re drawn to possibilities that aren’t about neat, predictable outcomes.

Johanna: Exactly. I’m not interested in printing perfectly polished works, signing them, and edition them. I avoid leaving large blank spaces or finishing with clean, polished graphics.

Milica: And this attitude isn’t limited to visuals. Our festivals include music programs, and we’ve released LPs for friends. The music and performances we feature have the same approach. I think our events reflect this attitude as well. It’s the same for the art world and society.

What kind of inspiration lies behind that attitude?

Milica: It might be because of this city. We love parties, and we often throw them when invited to other cities or even abroad. This is, in a way, the Serbian style of partying—or at least the Belgrade style, I’d say. Johanna, correct me if I’m wrong.

So, is it an expression of frustration or dissatisfaction toward society or nationality?

Milica: Not only that. There’s a type of music called "Turbo-Folk" that originated around Serbia in the 1990s, which I think is connected to this. It has a spirit of partying hard. Though it’s not related to the art scene, Matrijaršija was the only one that making those kind of parties from the beginning. It was rare because artists were seen as 'refined people,' above doing things like that.

So, it was a meeting of Turbo-Folk and the art scene.

Milica: Belgrade is the largest city in Serbia, a noisy metropolis with a population of two million. It’s not a calm or quaint place; it’s known for its parties and nightlife.

Belgrade, a city of parties and nightlife.

Milica: Every night is a party here; it’s a city of endless passion. Maybe it’s due to the turbulence of the 1990s. There was war, and Belgrade was bombed in 1999. There’s always a sense of heightened energy, not a calm everyday life. Do you agree, Johanna?

Johanna: Yes, definitely. There’s a tendency to avoid anything calm or average. Average is the enemy. [laughs] The city is full of energy and people, without too much overthinking.

Milica: Belgrade is somehow a bizarre mix of a city—unpredictable, alive, and esistant to boredom. There’s always something happening. We, at Matrijaršija, might be contributing to that in some way.

So, the style of artwork you handle and the wild vibe on your Instagram are influenced by the mood of the region.

On your website, it says, "In the early years, we experimented with different organizational models." What kinds of structures did you try?

Milica: There wasn’t a set formula for how we worked. We were always testing what we could do and what resources we had. In the first house, we lived together and threw parties like a club while doing printing. But spending time on parties meant less time for work. So we tried things out as we went. We also need to understand the new generation and changing times.

Are you also figuring out how to engage with the new generation?

Milica: New people and needs constantly bring new challenges. For instance, we had a friend in Novi Sad, another Serbian city, who ran a riso print work shop. When he decided to close it, we invited him to Belgrade, where he brought his riso printer and drums to join Matrijaršija. But then new questions arise—is he part of Matrijaršija now, or not? We work together every day, but what is our relationship?

Since it’s not a company, there’s some ambiguity about the structure of the organization.

Milica: Yes, there are no fixed role or hierarchy. Everything is informal, so we have to make decisions every day. Communication is crucial for solving problems. Like a big family, it requires a lot of work and a lot of communication.

Rather than relying on a system, you create stability through communication.

Milica: Not every day is happy or sunny; there are challenges too. But that’s what makes it worthwhile. We’re not living in some ideal, perfectly smooth collective. Working together as a group is genuinely hard work.

I imagine a lot of issues come up.

Milica: There are 17 of us constantly in conversation. We have 17 people in a Telegram channel exchanging information from early morning until late at night.

Johanna: With 17 people, someone always proposes a solution. For example, deciding who will pick up paper for printing or who will cut paper by 3 PM. Last year, 3 or 4 people were learning to drive.

Is an organization structured like this, with minimal systemization, something ideal for you?

Milica: For me, this is currently the best life I can imagine. If it lasts, I wouldn’t ask for anything else. We were claiming all the time that an "informal organization" is possible. From the beginning, Matrijaršija has been a place for work, living, and printing. It’s also been a place to host concerts, parties, events, and welcome artists. It’s not like an "artist-in-residence" program—it’s much more informal. People come, stay, work. That’s how it all started.

Not as a structured program, but something more spontaneous.

Milica: Yes, we had a spacious house, and some artist might stop by and say, "I was just passing by, mind if I drop in?" And we’d say, "Why don’t you stay for a few days and print something?" We’d prepare for printing together and then print together. It was all very informal—no open calls or selections. Festival guests would often stay for a week, sometimes even a month.

Johanna: We once had a Mexican artist who came for a festival and ended up staying longer; he even saw snow for the first time in his life.

Sounds like a paradise for artists.

Milica: Yes, it is, though we don’t have as much space now. Still, I’d like to continue doing what we do. I dream of buying a house or land someday, with shared spaces for artists to stay. That would be wonderful.

It’s a place for creation, a distribution network, a festival organizer, and a community—all of these naturally coming together over time. Matrijaršija sounds like a very human organization.

Milica: Matrijaršija is both a 'place' and a 'people.' People are the starting and ending points of Matrijaršija. Our activities represent a way of organizing, a method of communication, and, in a sense, a way of life. It’s a gathering of people who share a similar stance toward the world.

So, there’s a way of life behind it.

Milica: Times have changed over the past decade, and so has the city. It’s not the same place or the same way of life as it was ten years ago. Matrijaršija brings together people who react similarly to these changes—whether it’s what’s happening in the environment or in urban society. For me, being with people who share this sense is what Matrijaršija is all about.

Can we talk about business model? Matrijaršija is a non-profit, right? How do you fund the festivals and keep the space running?

Johanna: Yes, we receive support from the Serbian Ministry of Culture each year. They fund our annual program for the space, and we also get grants for the festivals. It’s not a large amount, but we make it work.

So, there’s some government support for your activities.

Johanna: We also get support from embassies for the festivals. For example, when we invite French guests, the French Institute often helps out. We’re not particularly skilled at generating revenue through sales, so funding is the quickest way to get the materials and make things happen.

But I assume government support wasn’t there from the start?

Milica: We were lucky at the beginning of Matrijaršija; we had a rent-free house. Thanks to that, we could experiment with different models for funding and sustaining the collective over five or six years. Without the pressure to make a profit, we didn’t have to crunch numbers. It was a relaxed period.

Having that time without the pressure to chase profit allowed you to explore your own model, which seems key. How do you split the profits from print sales? Do both the artist and Matrijaršija receive a share?

Johanna: The artist receives some of the prints and can sell them directly. Sometimes they can sell their own prints at art fair. But we don’t take a commission from them; the money goes back into the organization to cover expenses like rent.

I heard earlier that you sell prints by well-known artists and lesser-known ones at the same price. How do you decide on the pricing?

Johanna: Everything is priced at €25, regardless of the number of silkscreen colors used. We didn’t have a deep discussion about this price—it’s just simple to say, “They’re all the same price.” It makes selling really easy. I just realized today that even for an artist who usually sells a poster for €300, it’s still €25 with us.

Why keep it so affordable?

Johanna: So that more people can buy them. Maybe it’s the influence of the underground scene. We’re good at printing posters, but we’re not as skilled at getting them in front of a wide audience or distributing them widely.

When printing at your space, do people pay for materials, tools, ink, and paper?

Johanna: Matrijaršija members can use whatever materials they need. Basically, anything we have. For the prints that we manage, we provide everything completely free of charge.

Milica: The only time we charge is when someone specifically asks us to print something for them—with details like deadlines, quantities, and types of paper. In those cases, we’re not involved in the creative side of the print.

So you separate Matrijaršija’s activities from commissioned work.

Milica: When we have enough materials and resources, we support a lot of initiatives, especially for artists who want to work on specific projects. For example, if there’s a big exhibition, we might fund the production of a zine or a small book. With books, it’s a different approach than with the print collection. Each book has its own unique techniques, formats, and content, so the pricing for books varies a bit.

You also do bookbinding?

Johanna: Yes, we do lo-fi binding using staples or a sewing machine. Sometimes we collaborate with a larger print shop to create books using offset printing. Like this recent book we made, with a silkscreen-printed cover.

Wow, it’s a thick, beautiful book!

Johanna: The contents are a mix of riso and offset printing. The riso was done at our space, and the offset printing was done at a print shop. The binding was also done entirely at the print shop.

Is this book an archive or something?

Johanna: Yes, it’s a catalog about last year’s festival. It’s an archive of a major project we worked on over four years. Multiple artists participated through Matrijaršija, and we did silkscreen printing in four locations—Serbia, France, Belgium, and Portugal. It also includes a lot of texts about the lifestyle of printing and more.

Johanna, you mentioned moving to Serbia 16 years ago. What brought you here?

Johanna: It all started with a trip through Eastern Europe with friends. After visiting Romania, I stopped in Serbia and spent the summer there. Later, I returned as an exchange student. In France, I was studying visual communication at the art school in Saint-Étienne, but I came to Belgrade’s art school and spent a semester here.

You must have really liked Serbia.

Johanna: Over time, I wanted to introduce Balkan artists to people in France. I ended up publishing a book in French on the history of comics in the former Yugoslavia and on independent comics in Serbia and Croatia. I raised the funds to print the book and held an exhibition at a major cultural festival in northern France. That was my first project.

So, you’ve been creating things and building networks through print since back then.

Johanna: Yes, there are many people in France who are keen to discover new artists. That’s how I ended up living in Serbia, and eventually, it felt like I was living between two places. Later, I met my boyfriend in Croatia, and together with him and a friend, we decided to start a festival in Belgrade.

Hosting your own festival is a bold step.

Johanna: When I was studying in France, I was surrounded by the zine scene and became deeply immersed in it. I’d follow the scene and go to the same festivals every year, where there were tons of independent comic artists and zine creators. It was incredibly important to me.

What made festivals so significant to you?

Johanna: They were special times to meet friends. Festivals were like a gathering place, a rendezvous. The fact that everyone comes together was the most important thing—it was everything.

And then you started hosting a festival in Serbia.

Johanna: The NOVO DOBA Festival is an important moment each year for the Balkan zine scene. It brings together zine creators from Belgrade, new generations of comic artists from places like Zagreb and Ljubljana. It’s a small but very Balkan scene. It needs someone to keep the fire going. I love the phenomenon of people meeting, starting to create something together, and eventually forming a collective.

So, after a few years of running the festival, you felt the need for a place like Matrijaršija.

Johanna: Yes, when we hosted the festival, we didn’t have a central base where all the guests could gather. Once we had our first Matrijaršija house, it became that gathering spot. We also needed a place to print. We were often traveling to other cities to print, and we realized we needed to print more frequently.

What’s your perspective on the art industry? Do you hope that artists involved with Matrijaršija gain recognition within the industry?

Johanna: Hmm, I’m not sure. There really isn’t much of an art industry in Serbia—it feels quite distant. We’re not looking to make a big profit as a business. We just want to work with people who share a similar mindset and make things happen.

So, would you say there’s an intention to remain in the underground scene, for example?

Johanna: I wouldn’t say we’re entirely underground. We’ve gradually become more open and involved with various people. We’re somewhere in between—not fully underground but not exactly part of the art industry either. We’re more of an in-between entity.

Lastly, I think this is a very important point, but could you tell me about the group called "Bitlsti," who have mental disabilities and work with you? You don’t really emphasize this inclusivity, do you?

Johanna: That’s right. We don’t want to make a big deal about it. They’re simply part of us.

Milica: We would never say, "We work with people who have mental challenges, intellectual disabilities, or are psychiatric patients." Because we’re not "working with them"—they are us. There’s no difference, and we’re not their mentors or teachers. Sometimes, they’re the wiser ones.

Johanna: People who visit our workshop can’t even tell who is part of Bitlsti. It’s interesting because we are all a bit crazy in different ways.

How did you first connect with this group?

Johanna: We met them around 10 years ago through a friend. My friend’s mother ran an organization where they worked in a day center doing printing and other activities. For a few years now, they have been making handmade Japanese washi paper with the help of a Japanese NGO.

Really? That’s fascinating!

Johanna: The initial idea was, “How about giving them a chance to try silkscreen printing?” But when they first visited Matrijaršija, they showed no interest in printing at all. We told their parents, "We don’t want to force them to print if they’re not interested. They want to sing, to play music, to write—they want to get along.” Since then, we just let them do what they want.

You respected their wishes, which really shows what you mean about not being mentors or teachers.

Milica: Yes, around ten years ago, we were looking for a place where we could print regularly, and at the same time, we were seeking a space where we could welcome people with mental disabilities daily, conduct workshops, and work together. They’re a part of our collective.

So, moving to your current base was done with the intention of including Bitlsti.

Milica: Yes, but not just with them—we also connect with other groups in the art brut scene. A friend of mine is the founder of Art Brut Serbia. It’s another kind of informal partnership. We print their work too—not only posters but also books and other pieces.

Johanna: This year, we did an exciting exhibition with Bitlsti and also collaborated with "Tribe F20," an art collective of people with schizophrenia. F20 is the clinical diagnosis code for schizophrenia.

Tribe F20—what a cool name.

Johanna: They’re a fascinating collective. Their work is amazing; they create psychedelic comics and installations. We did an interview with members from Bitlsti for the exhibition and filmed the process. We asked what their ideal exhibition would be, and we made every effort to bring their vision to life.

This has become quite a long conversation. One last question, Johanna. Is silkscreen printing something special to you?

Johanna: Yes, it is. Silkscreen allows for experimentation by hand, where you can add or layer images. For example, when a painter does silkscreen, they’ll add one layer here, another layer there, building up colors as they print. It’s a completely different approach from that of a designer who plans everything in advance.

Planning everything in advance or adapting as you go. Designing or crafting.

Johanna: Exactly. The same goes for monotype printing. It can be precise, experimental, or expressive—it offers a wide range of possibilities. That’s why I love this technique. When newcomers print their artwork for the first time, it’s a special experience. There’s that moment when the print goes through the machine, they lift the screen, and see their print—it’s like magic happening right before their eyes.

Thank you so much for sharing such inspiring insights. I feel the potential of a project fueled by human connections, not a fixed organization. I must visit Matrijaršija sometime.

Milica: Absolutely, let’s stay in touch.

Johanna: Looking forward to seeing you soon.

Thank you both so much. Have a wonderful day.