Los Angeles Is Becoming the Capital of Artists Whose Canvas Is Human Skin
Photograph by Ann Johansson for The New York Times
From left, Gorge Verduzco, Mr. Maturino and Chuco Caballero show their body art in competition at the expo.
By ANGELA FRUCCI
Published: January 11, 2005
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Photograph by Ann Johansson for The New York Times
Tattoos cover Richard Maturino's head at Body Art Expo 2005 in Pomona, Calif.
OMONA, Calif., Jan. 9 - Inside the crowded convention center here, Chuco Caballero, wearing only blue boxer shorts, stood in the center of an admiring crowd. It was the last day of Body Art Expo 2005, a gathering of tattoo aficionados, and the drone of tattoo machines, like the buzz of a plague of locusts, filled the hall.
Mr. Caballero's 53-year-old body appeared covered in portraits: Susan Hayward, Robert De Niro, the Statue of Liberty under an armpit and some menacing gangster types just above his ankle. Chuco, as he is called, is a walking canvas of what is known as black and gray, a Los Angeles style that emerged from the city's Chicano culture, and is a highly popular one here.
In fact, judging by the crush of practitioners and fans at the Fairplex center, in this city about 30 miles east of Los Angeles, which is emerging as the latest capital of body tattooing. "The new millennium is starting to be L.A.," said Baba, of the Vintage Tattoo Art Parlor in Los Angeles, and one of the sponsors of the three-day convention, which ended on Sunday. The city's turn has come round again: in the 1970's Los Angeles was the place for tattooing, in the 80's New York became the capital and in the 90's San Francisco.
"What's going on in L.A. is juxtaposition; that's the easiest way I can describe it," continued Baba (in the tattoo world one-word names are the norm). "You have Americans doing beautiful Japanese-American stuff; you have people mixing hot rod stuff with Chicano stuff; you have people mixing traditional with new school. I mean, as much as a mixture of people as this town is right now, that is how the tattoo world is right now. You have the masters, the king tattooers of L.A., and they are leading the pack and pushing the envelope."
As he spoke, Baba was performing a cosmetic coverup on the stomach of a young woman named Sabrina. As she lay on a table in front of him, tears rolled from beneath her heavily made-up eyelids. Originally, Sabrina had had a tattoo of a cross with her grandfather's name, but she wanted something new. "Be strong," Baba told her.
The monotone black and gray style, like many of the images decorating Chuco's skin, often reflect cultural, religious and prison themes. The style was popularized by well-known tattoo figures like Jack Rudy, Freddy Negrete and Ed Hardy.
"Jack Rudy was growing up in L.A., when all the black and gray was coming out of the prisons," explained Mr. Lucky, who was tending the booth of Good Time Charlie's Tattooland, of Anaheim. "People wanted it," Mr. Lucky added, as a departure from simpler biker-inspired designs, like skulls.
"I grew up in the 60's," said Chuco, who was standing in front of the booth, "when you could own a tattoo only if you were a gang member, a drug addict, or in prison. Now, celebrities and movie stars have made tattooing mainstream." His black and gray designs, mostly portraits rendered in outline, were filled in with shadowing.
Just a few booths away, stood Bill Salmon of the Diamond Club Tattoo Parlor in San Francisco. His guest tattoo artist was Hori Zakura, who creates traditional Japanese tattoos. Instead of needles, Mr. Zakura shaded in the scales of a carp tattoo by rolling a needled stick back and forth into his client's skin. The process seemed more meditative for tattooer and tattooee alike and less painful than the machine-needle method, which inflames the skin.
The wait for a tattoo from an artist who is in demand can be months to a year. "I've been waiting to get a tattoo from Bugs for a long time," said Kyle Straton about a French-born artist who is, by his own admission, an outsider in the industry. Bugs, who works in a West Los Angeles tattoo parlor, Tabu Tattoo, studied fine arts in France. His style is unusual, leaning heavily toward Cubism. As Mr. Straton sat serenely for two hours while Bugs worked, Jesus in a crown of thorns slowly took form on the back of Mr. Straton's neck. Passers-by stopped, some appearing confused by Bugs's art form.
"It's very simple, needles and skin, pain and a lot of blood," Bugs said, wiping away droplets of blood from his subject's back with an antibacterial soap. "I never use anyone else's design. People give me a subject, and I work it out with my design."
Several steps away, Ron Earhart was putting the finishing touches on a tattoo in his biomechanical style. "I'm in the zone; it doesn't hurt," said his customer, whose green Celtic knot emerged from the ripped flesh of his arm. Mr. Earhart's Newskool Tattoo Studio, in San Jose, specializes in the fusion of flesh and machines: gears, switches and machinery. The style owes much to "Alien," the movie, he said, and the insectlike creature created by HR Giger.
Early Saturday evening, judging had begun for the best "Black and Gray, Large" tattoo of the day. Mando, who weighs about 375 pounds, walked past the row of judges, stopping briefly to let each examine his back. Its great expanse was filled with an enormous skull, rendered in Tiki, or island, style. It had taken 12 sessions - from 1½ to 6 hours each - to complete. Mando, who is Chicano, said he got the tattoo to "show appreciation for their art."
He lost to a large black and gray of Elvis.
