Tuesday, 7 July 2015

BROTHERHOOD


I first met the president of RedRum Motorcycle Club, Cliff Matias—a spiritual man, softly-spoken with an iron will to match—almost five years ago, and since, have slowly been introduced to key members of the club and subsequently, their wives and girlfriends. It became apparent that these people in and around the motorcycle club were earnest. They share family values and a strong bond in its most simplistic form—one that I hadn’t seen before in other cultures. It is an unavoidable honesty. So often we associate bike club members with criminals who are to be feared rather than be revered as protectors, or even thought of as regular people. The aim of the “Brotherhood” project is to show who these people really are. A part of photography that I find deeply appealing is documenting a moment that is truly honest. Posing and posturing will always have its place, but when shooting the “everyday man” the artist often finds themselves no longer in control of their subjects, but merely a bystander in the moments they capture. Much like the men and women involved with RedRum MC, after I gained the club’s trust I was fortunate enough to be given unfettered access to this insular group. When I embarked on documenting the characters I wasn’t sure what would transpire but I was afforded the opportunity to witness some genuinely soft moments: Cuddling their wives, adoring their girlfriends and playing with their children, riding in unity on charity runs and laughing with each other. They are not angels but I have never personally witnessed any group brawls, nor unprovoked aggression towards the general public. Sub-cultural, tight-knit groups such as RedRum are the ideal subject for this style of documentary photography. Peek behind the curtain and into a world that you’d never normally see or will ever be witness to again. —Sophy Holland. What has Sons of Anarchy done to the perception of motorcycle clubs? Fowler: Jeff can answer that one, because I shouldn’t say what I’m thinking. Blanchard: It blows everything out of proportion. They did show how clubs work, but it was a drama, they were killing 60 guys a week. You’d be out of members in less than a month. Fowler: We’d all be locked up and there would be more trucks exploding on the highway. Blanchard: It was entertaining. If a biker said he didn’t watch it, he’d be full of shit because every biker watched it. But it was a drama, that’s it. There are some great things that they did show, some of the great parts of the life: the hierarchies in clubs, the protocols, all that kind of stuff, but in the end it was just total entertainment. Agreed, but that is the most public representation of motorcycle clubs. Figueroa: Unfortunately, meanwhile we are the guys that would help if you really needed it. Andrews: And we want to be ambassadors wherever we go. Fowler: You want to be polite without bringing some flowers. Blanchard: I mean if we have a Prospect [a man essentially pledging the club] with us we’ll have him blow somebody. [joking] Andrews: I don’t think people know how many charitable donations are made by motorcycle clubs. It is a huge number. What philanthropy are you involved in? Blanchard: Every year we do a St. Jude run. Our president Cliff Matias organizes different rides up in the Catskills. We do a Purple Heart Association run locally. We have done book drives for under privileged kids. We do a Native American scholarship run. That has been going over 12 years. It is a fun ride, we start at the Bull [Charging Bull statue on Wall Street]…. Andrews: Well, the National Museum of the American Indian. Fowler: And we go up to Bear Mountain for their pow wow. Andrews: And we always donate, I think last year we donated $2,000 for one of the traditional dancers. That plays against the perception one has when they read “RedRum” on your back. Figueroa: I was originally with a group called Legion of Doom and there was a set of us called RedRum. We floated away and Cliff said we were going to stick with RedRum. Everybody thinks its “murder” backwards so you have to kind of clarify. Please do. Figueroa: We are all about positivity. But the first thing that pops into people’s minds is The Shining. Fowler: So many times you’ll be in a bar and somebody will come up saying “Redrum, redrum.” Shut the fuck up. Figuero: It is a badass name. Guys will say, “You got fucking murder on your back.” No we are the opposite of that life. Can we walk through the patch or is it a sacred, esoteric, thing? Fowler: The three skulls represent brotherhood, the black bandanas represent the struggle between the Mexican people and their government. The peace sign speaks for itself, the war paint are of every denomination of man: white, red, yellow, black. It’s clear that the patches mean the world to you. Figueroa: Guys work hard for it. You can buy a three-piece Sons of Anarchy patch online and unfortunately some dumb guy is going to learn his lesson, riding around his Honda with one on when an outlaw club finds him. Why are you “prospecting,” Matt? Fowler: Don’t fuck this up. Gelbke: I have always been intrigued by the club life. I am a union worker so I am fond of the brotherhood you get with groups of likeminded guys. It’s what drew me in; it’s what keeps me interested. The brotherhood, a common bond, right or wrong, weak or strong. I know I will be here for them and I trust that they’ll be there for me too. Figueroa: I have been able to watch who would fit and who wouldn’t fit for the past 15 years. Between the guys we are prospecting now to the guys we used to have, it is a big difference. I had to watch this guy who was a pain in the ass, everywhere we went there was something going on and he was involved. Where is he now? Figueroa: He passed away. So it’s life is a bitch, it comes back to bite. And I prefer what we have now to what we had when it was harder. We got rid of the bad seeds and every time we lost one we got four more great dudes. Not those guys who are going to rob, rape and do all that crazy shit. We are not hardcore, we don’t need to be, people see us and they know that we are tough. We are the guys who are going to shake people’s hands. People want what we got. Andrews: And what we got is brotherhood. We never ask what brotherhood can do for us, we ask what we can do for brotherhood. I want to help in any way I can and that is what brings us closer together. The closer you get to brotherhood the more enlightened you become. When we all come together, when we are wearing the same patch, we have the same common goal. Blanchard: The club opened my eyes to look at people differently. I am still learning constantly which is great, and it is not just about the club life, it is about life in general. Fowler: Before I met these guys I was very selfish. I had my own real family but I never felt brotherhood with my real brother. I doubted that brotherhood even existed when I couldn’t find it at home. But when I found these guys I knew I found brotherhood. I like to roll alone once in a blue moon, but nobody is more than a phone call away. If something goes down everybody zooms to the scene. That is what brotherhood is to me and I don’t think I can find it anywhere else. It took me a long time in my life, I just turned 50, and I finally feel like I fit in somewhere. I wandered through life not fitting in until I found these guys. I found brotherhood.

CANDID SHOTS FROM THE SUICIDEGIRLS BLACKHEART BURLESQUE TOUR


Adventure. Excitement. A SuicideGirl craves these things. The counterculture collective of beautiful women spins pop culture in a dazzling and sexy way on stage. Performing under the Inked magazine banner, the SuicideGirls’ Blackheart Burlesque Tour titillated 46 crowds in 56 days—you should see the amount of nipple tape on the expense report ledger. For what Vice described as, “sort of Comicon meets burlesque nerd orgy,” the Girls twisted geeky tropes like Star Wars, A Clockwork Orange, Game of Thrones and Zelda. A favorite performance was Sunny’s rendition of “Part of Your World” from The Little Mermaid (don’t act like you don’t know it, tough guy). She belted out: “Fishes with tits they don’t get too far, legs are required for bumping and grinding. I want to feel my, what is that word again? Oh, twat.” Like sailors getting their swallow tattoos after 5,000 miles at sea, the SuicideGirls got their new black heart tattoos to represent the tour at Red Tree Tattoo Shop in Columbus, OH. They also managed to take in Disney World, see Zoomanity in Las Vegas, meet the Naked Cowboy in Times Square, see if there is a basement in The Alamo and managed to snap a few photos in SG swag outside the White House. The Blackheart Burlesque tour kicks back up in April, starting in Oakland, CA and then weaves its way around the US and Canada. Do you like half-naked tattooed women and partying? Of course you do, you are reading Inked, come see the SuicideGirls in the flesh.

HANDSOME BOY MODELING SCHOOL


SOCIAL MEDIA SUPERSTAR JOSH OSTROVSKY AKA THE FAT JEW IS READY FOR HIS CLOSE-UP. The Fat Jew (spawned name: Josh Ostrovsky) is a social media maven and sexual object. This summer he is launching a rosé that he has dubbed White Girl, publishing a book Money, Pizza, Respect and dipping his bulbous toe into the modeling world. We were fortunate enough to be able to work with the new face and body of male modeling for his biggest shoot yet. For The Fat Jew’s coming-out spread we recast the Rubenesque man-baby in iconic photos such as Kim Kardashian from last year’s Paper magazine, Vanity Fair’s pregnant Demi Moore cover, Burt Reynolds naked on a bearskin rug for Cosmopolitan, Janet Jackson’s hand-bra for Rolling Stone and also from the venerable music magazine he plays both John and Yoko. The following interview was conducted while he was on the toilet à la Jenny McCarthy from those ‘90s Candie’s ads. How would you describe yourself? Imagine if George Washington, Steven Seagal, Matthew Perry in a post-Friends prescription pill spiral, and all the members of Cypress Hill gangbanged Bette Midler at a warehouse rave and put a baby inside her…that baby would be Josh Ostrovsky aka The Fat Jew. I am known by many names: Jewther Vandross, Jewlio Iglesias, Jewy Vuitton, Jewsan Sarandon, The King of Brunch, Fatrick Jewing, Jew Diamond Phillips. When you look in the mirror what do you see? A Botticelli. Literally, I’m a modern-day Botticelli woman in a painting. I got that thick 15th century ass, Dog. How has your male modeling experience been thus far? Breaking into the modeling world is not easy because obviously I don’t have a 60-pack and deep, V-shaped dick lines, so it is hard for me to get into that scene. How do you feel about the label “plus-sized model?” I am not really down with being called a plus-sized model. I think they should rename the genre. It should be called, like “sturdy men” or, like, “thick fellas.” Plus-sized makes us sound kind of soft and supple and I am proud to have a big, fat shitty body. What is your ultimate goal in the male modeling world? To let people know that the current-day body standards glorified by the mass media can be harmful, especially to young people, and that their bodies are phenomenal no matter how they are shaped. Also, to get rich enough to buy an ostrich or to throw a $20,000 red leather couch in the ocean for absolutely no reason except that senselessly hurting the environment is very baller. How are you inspired by this shoot? I am not only inspired by pregnant Demi Moore, I am pretty sure that we look exactly the same. Previously I have been described as having a body like Shrek and Rosie O’Donnell. The Shrek/Rosie O’Donnell body type is going to become massively popular in 2015. Are there other models who you have been inspired by? I really connected with…I forgot her name, but she always looked like she was sleeping…she was a Victoria’s Secret model and I masturbated to her so many times. Frankie something? Or Frünke? Or maybe it was my dad’s friend Frank? He is a union guy—he’s like my uncle but he’s not my actual uncle, ya know? Oh, and definitely Anna Nicole Smith. I would definitely want to marry a 95-year-old walking corpse who has billions of dollars and then develop a serious pill addiction, continuously vomit all over myself and then die an icon. That is pretty much the plan; I am the new Anna Nicole Smith. Are you the new face of modeling then? Everybody likes to ask, “Who is the new face of male modeling?” But I may not be the new face because this [points at visage] is like, whatever, acceptable, but I am the new body of male modeling and that new body is Lena Dunham, because me and Lena Dunham have the same body. If you groped us both in a dark room and had 10 guesses whose body was which you would have a 50 percent chance of being right. I am the new body of male modeling which is a tall and fat—but taut—adult baby. I am very taut, like a very young Gandolfini—a giant plump infant. The old industry saw is, “Never work with children or animals.” Do you agree? The greatest photoshoot I can imagine is me wearing a beautiful half-black baby with a miniature afro and green eyes in a Baby Björn with a majestic falcon perched on my arm. And I’m holding an axe. An axe that’s on fire. That “no baby/no animal” rule is dumb. What else do you get into on set? At these shoots there is always a ton of food and none of the other models eat anything. There will be a German dude who has a V-neck that goes down to his navel and he will eat one poppy seed and be full. So I can just, like, hoard food. On the actual modeling shoots I am getting fatter. Many models have a diet of cocaine and cigarettes, what is yours? It’s all about ecstasy and carbs (and coke). How about the phrase, “nothing tastes as good as skinny feels?” Everybody loves that, but that is not true. Have you every drank gravy? I mean, sipped it? Not chugging it like Steve-O, I mean sitting by a fire with a nice snifter of it. Gravy tastes better than skinny could ever fucking possibly feel. So what of the skinny body image in our culture? If you are skinny in America you are basically a fucking super hero. If we were in Belgium, or…where is everybody hot? We are not in Stockholm. We are not in Oslo— where everybody is gorgeous, looks like they are from the future and they recycle— this is fucking America, we are big, fat, giant consumption loud-mouth monsters. It is ridiculous to think that any of us are fit. There are maybe 3,000 fit people in LA and 1,500 in New York and that’s pretty much it. Everybody soon will be in a Rascal Scooter so I am the right model for our culture. I am going to need the thing that goes up and down the railing of the stairs. This is what George Washington wanted; this is what this country is founded on. I should be on Mount Rushmore. That should be my next modeling gig: Mount Rushmore. In case you can’t book that, do you have a back-up modeling aspiration? I would like to be in Serbian Vogue. I don’t know if they have Serbian Vogue but if they do I would like to be in it. Former Yugoslavian Vogue? I want to be in that bad. You are a cultural influencer, what are you currently feeling? The top three things that I am currently into would be nachos on pizza—“Nacho Pizza”—and then probably also Rob Lowe because that guy is just getting younger. He used to look 35 and now he looks 21. He is gorgeous. The last thing is girls with big hands, big rough hands. I am not into guys necessarily, I just like to know that the girl has done some hard labor. Getting back to pizza, how, as a Jewish man, do you rectify eating pizza with pepperoni as a topping? As a Jew you are not supposed to eat certain things, but God, don’t be a fucking hater. Obviously I shouldn’t be pouring pork onto my actual face, but have you tasted it? I might be Jewish but this is fucking America. God doesn’t want me to eat pepperoni but George Washington certainly did. That man fought so that I could eat pepperoni for breakfast, lunch and dinner. You have a slice tattooed on your body. I am sure a lot of people have said to Inked, “My tattoos are like a story, a tapestry of my life,” but in this case that is actually true. I have a couple that I have gotten in shops, but normally, this friend of mine who is a fucking weirdo artist tattoos me in weird places. We have done tattoos on moving trains, in the middle of raves around transvestite cowboys and once went into the bathroom of a restaurant in the West Village and people were knocking on the door while he was tattooing me for 45 minutes. That tattoo says “porno” with a heart, because I love porno. “Money, Pizza, Respect” was done on a speedboat going 95 miles per hour. If you get all of your shit in a tattoo shop, I feel you, but that is kind of boring. I should get a tattoo on horseback, that would be kind of chill. Or we could walk into H&R Block, start tattooing and see how long we could get away with it. You have a book coming out, Money, Pizza, Respect. I wonder how many people who have written books have had it tattooed on them? While on a speedboat? I’m going to go with none. What is the book about? It’s a manual for living your life. I can’t tell you what to do, but I can definitely tell you what not to do. I am the world’s foremost expert in making questionable decisions, and you can learn so much from that. Be inspired by my stupidity. I’m like Ghandi’s really shitty brother with a manageable coke problem! What’s one thing that your Instagram followers will be surprised to read in your book? There’s a story in the book involving me getting a handjob from a celebrated actress over the age of 70 in a hot tub in Texas that will probably blow some people’s minds. And you have a rosé wine coming out called White Girl, where did the idea originate? Last summer, there was a rosé shortage in the Hamptons that left white people panicking and fighting in the streets. It was terrifying. We want to make sure that never happens again. How would you describe White Girl? It’s free range, macrobiotic, fair trade, grass fed, conflict free, cage-free, low carb, and gluten free. It’s delicious enough to put in your cereal, yet inexpensive enough to fill a Jacuzzi to sit in with some close friends. If you could have one rapper sip on White Girl in a music video, who would that be? Bow Wow. I would love to have a rapper spokesman for the rosé and would prefer to get someone whose career is basically over because we don’t have a ton of money to pay. He’s three years away from being a waiter at a sushi restaurant in Santa Monica, so I can probably get him on the cheap. So that, Mount Rushmore or Former Yugoslavian Vogue, any other goals for this summer? If Money, Pizza, Respect hits the New York Times Best Seller List I am going to legally change my name. I have called the department of records to confirm that I can do this, I will change my name to New York Times Best Seller. I spoke to Kesha at the record’s office and she said, “I don’t know why you’d want to do that.” And I said, “Kesha, I don’t need an editorial, I just need to know if I can do that.” And she was like, “Yeah.” So I can get that on my driver’s license—help make that happen.

ELECTRIC LADY LAND


It is a common scenario: You’re walking around some city’s downtown and a guy will hand you a glossy card promoting some club. The flier—three times the size of a business card— looks like it was made by an overzealous design major who utilizes seven different fonts, overuses Photoshop and features an impossibly gorgeous girl who has never and will never step foot into the place advertised. Unless that girl is DJ Megan Daniels. The blonde baby doll has the softest of looks but is actual fire on the decks—she doesn’t just lead the party, she is the party. There was a time when a DJ was in a dark booth—not seen, just heard. But in the current era the only successful mixers without a public face are Daft Punk. “At the moment being a DJ has become largely about image,” Megan says. “It’s almost like the DJ is the new rock star. People want to see you and connect with you. You have to be very front and center.” So it’s not just about the music anymore. But obviously music is integral. “I am a female, and because I began as a model people are skeptical if I am really deejaying or just trying to bank off of the way I look,” she says. “But all I can say is I am the real deal when it comes to my DJ career and I take it very seriously. I started spinning on vinyl and have never used a sync button or a pre-recorded set. I’m always mixing live when I am performing.” Emphasis on her last word, performing. When she is in the booth it is very much a live music performance. While she comes into a venue she has an idea for a playlist but also takes into account the vibe of the crowd and freestyles her sets. “The DJ has huge responsibilities that I don’t think many people actually realize,” Megan says. “The DJ controls the whole atmosphere. Music really has an impact on people. It can relax people, excite them, or make them more aggressive. It’s pretty crazy. I really try to switch it up during my sets. I will vibe off of the crowd to see what they are feeling, that dictates what I am going to play. But during a typical set you will hear me play anything from electro house to trap to hip-hop.” You can get a feel for her tastes through her podcasts and mixes which can be found through her website, but her live shows are influenced by local flavor. As a traveling DJ (she’s spun sets in places like Hong Kong, Mumbai, Saint Croix and even Salt Lake City) she checks to see what’s trending on the specific city’s charts before those glossy fliers are printed. Oh yeah, her looks. Beyond Megan’s bee-stung lips and flowing blonde hair is her impressive collection of tattoos, a number paying homage to music. “I fell in love with Social Distortion at [age] 13, so I have their skeleton on my inner elbow,” she says. But most precious is the pair of headphones with her initials on her shoulder. “No matter what happens down the road with my DJ career, that tattoo will always serve as a constant reminder of an amazing point in my life.” And in case you thought that was code for you missed out on seeing her perform in person, she adds, “I’m not planning on quitting anytime soon, though.”

BJ BETTS


Retraction: In the printed version of this article, Inked incorrectly published that BJ Betts was a Navy SEAL. Mr. Betts was an Operations Specialist in the Navy, he was never a Navy SEAL and has never purported to be one. Mr. Betts is very proud of his military service, we are beyond thankful for his contribution to the country and are woefully embarrassed that in the magazine we made it appear as if he answered a question in which we asked him about his time as a Navy SEAL. Some time between Mr. Betts being asked the question and it being published the word SEAL was inexplicably added to the question during the editing process. Again, for this we are ashamed. We ask the forgiveness of Mr. Betts, those in our military who hold sacred ranks and occupations, and you the reader. You can’t talk lettering tattoos without speaking the name BJ Betts. Having written four guides on the subject, Betts has become a household name in the tattoo industry-setting the standard for lettering and fonts across the globe. The former Operations Specialist in the United States Navy received a medical discharge and found the same camaraderie of military life in the tattoo community. Coming up under artists Bo McConnaghie and Zach “Havok” Domstead of August Moon in Bear, Delaware, Betts strived to learn as much as he possibly could about tattooing, even if his apprenticeship was a little informal. Hoping to become proficient in every style of tattooing, he tackled the task of perfecting his lettering after realizing that typography, as an art, was being overlooked by most artists. Having created an unknown number of fonts, it is safe to say that Betts has made his mark on the industry as a whole and it will be interesting to see how he will write the future of typographical tattooing letter by letter. INKED: Can you tell us about your musical background? BETTS: I started out playing the saxophone when I was eight years old and played a few other percussion instruments. Ultimately, my love of music led to me being a DJ. I started out helping a local DJ with wedding receptions, birthday parties and smaller stuff when I was 12, and stuck with it throughout my teen years. I deejayed some pretty decent-sized gigs with some pretty famous DJs like Cash Money, Cosmic Kev and Jazzy. Looking back at it now, it was pretty epic! You were in the military—what branch, how long, and what was your specialty? I was an Operations Specialist in the United States Navy for just under nine years. I operated radar and shipboard navigation, controlled ship communications for naval gunfire support missions, and reported on combat information. I ended up working in the Special Warfare community, but an injury stopped me from making it my career. At the time it was devastating, but it was one of those blessings in disguise. I really love where I’m at now in my career, my life and my journey through it. I would’ve missed so much of my daughter’s life growing up—the kind of stuff you can’t put a price on. Like, we were all told by our Commanding Officer, “If the Navy wanted you to have a family, they would’ve issued you one in boot camp!” How did you make the jump from the military life to tattooer? I received a medical discharge and had to start looking at other options. I wanted to do something I loved. I loved the travel and camaraderie of military life, but I really had no idea that tattooing would fill those needs and wants on a large scale. Tattooing has given me the opportunity to travel and meet so many people I consider to be life-long friends. Did you have a formal apprenticeship? If not, how did you begin your tattoo career? I didn’t have a formal apprenticeship, unfortunately. My good friend Jeff Godwin talked me into trying to make tattoos and I eventually made my first one on him. I really started tattooing while I was on active duty in the military because there was no shortage of people who wanted tattoos. Jeff landed a proper apprenticeship and he passed a lot of the stuff he was learning along to me… so it was like I had a secondhand apprenticeship of sorts. Definitely not the way I would recommend learning. I was just scratching along with little direction and no real idea of what the hell I was doing. I’m sure there are a few people walking around with some questionable tattoos they got from me way back when. When I got out of the Navy, I was on a mission to learn as much as I possibly could about tattooing. I started working full time at a shop named August Moon, in Bear, Delaware, the day after I was discharged and never looked back. When you first started tattooing who did you look up to? I worked with a great bunch of guys at the shop and looked up to them not only as fellow artists, but as daily inspiration. Bo McConnaghie and Zach “Havok” Domstead (rest in peace) were the guys at August Moon that I really clicked with and were the ones that had the biggest impact when I first started tattooing. There were also a few local Philly tattooers who were doing some amazing work that I developed a good friendship with. Dave Fox, Jason Goldberg, and Erik Reith, to name a few. They had only been tattooing a few years longer than me at that point, but it seemed like they were so far ahead. I also looked up to well-known tattooers like Jack Rudy, Freddy Negrete, Filip Leu and Ed Hardy. I have also been fortunate enough to work alongside some of the most inspirational people who have not only impacted my career, but have influenced my outlook on life and my understanding of the tattoo industry as a whole. People like Bert Krak, Grime, Mike Wilson, Dan Smith, Todd Noble, Scott Sylvia, Tim Hendricks, Mike Dorsey, Mike Rubendall, Henry Lewis and Shawn Barber. The list is long. You’re known for your lettering. Why did you decide to focus on typography? I always wanted to be proficient in every style of tattooing, including lettering. It was almost by default that it turned into what it is now. I felt that typography was getting lost in tattooing. You would see these amazing tattoos: solid color, perfect execution, but the lettering was terrible. It just ruined the tattoo. There were a few tattooers back then who were known for doing some great lettering, but it wasn’t their focus. Now there are tattooers who only do lettering. That’s awesome to me. How does typography fit into artistry? Typography is an art in and of itself. It just happens to be an art that is overlooked by a lot of people. There’s something really special about a crazy hand-style. You’ve really set the standard for lettering. How many styles have you’ve created? That’s a tough one. I can’t say with certainty. Is there a particular script that you think tattooers should retire? No. I don’t think that it’s up to the tattooers to decide that. I think the customers should dictate that. Plus, just when I think I’m tired of seeing a particular style, somebody just kills it and refreshes my outlook on it. Are there particular words that you refuse to tattoo (hate words, couples’ names, etc)? I don’t get down with any of the hate stuff. As for names? My rule of thumb is that if they want it bad enough and I don’t do it, they’ll just go somewhere else. I may as well do the tattoo so it’s done well. Have you ever made a spelling mistake in a tattoo, and if not, how diligent are you with checking? Nope. I’ve done a wrong date once, but it was the date that the customer gave me…I obviously had no idea when their grandmother was born. Where would you say is the most challenging area to tattoo? In Berlin, due to the EU ink restrictions. Just kidding. It’s particularly challenging to tattoo any part of the body where there’s loose skin, or parts of the body that are more sensitive because people tend to move around a little more.

YOU MAY NOW APPROACH THE JUDGE’S BENCH


As the new season of Ink Master brings in mentors and apprentices, judges Oliver Peck and Chris Nuñez talk candidly about that dynamic in the tattoo world. One of the most visual representations of tattooing both to our community and to the world at large is television. The most famous tattooers on the planet, whether or not they are technically and artistically the best, are those who are on TV shows. A great swath of tattooing on television has focused as much on drama as it has on clean lines and placement, but Spike TV’s Ink Master has forever taken up the cause to promote great tattoo art. “The positive side of what I am trying to do on television is wean out the people who shouldn’t be tattooing in the first place and teach the viewers that there is quality in good tattooers,” says Ink Master judge Chris Nuñez. “The face of tattooing has been who is on television. Twenty years ago the elite were great, their tattoos had soul, and now through television and social media there are so many tattoos out there that are hollow.” The great part of growth in tattooing’s popularity is the acceptance of tattoos in society and the money in artists’ pockets, but now that tattoos belong to the populace, the hierarchy has been upset. The old guard can no longer control who is deemed topflight, and while that decision is now more democratic, we don’t want your spinster aunt or much of Facebook (Filip Leu isn’t even on there) to have a say. With the system that brought tattooing from an outlaw activity to perhaps the biggest artistic movement of our lifetime pushed aside, scratchers and kids with art degrees— but no training—have been allowed in. The apprenticing system has been decimated and with that the soul is quickly evaporating from the craft. “Internet, television and media all hurt the craft really bad in the tradition of how you get involved and, really, the dues you have to pay to be there,” Nuñez says. “You can see somebody’s time in the business looking at a tattoo.” This new season of Ink Master plays off relationships but not in a sensational way. The show invited mentors and apprentices to compete for $100,000, a feature in this magazine and the title of Ink Master. “They come in as a team—the mentor and apprentice,” Oliver Peck says halfway through filming, “and those who have the strongest bond, who both respect each other, have been staying strong in the competition and will go further. The casual groups fall off quick. The stronger tattooers had better apprenticeships because they took it seriously. It speaks volumes to the relationship between the master and apprentice.” Nuñez got his apprenticeship in 1990 from Lou Sciberras. Nuñez was a graffiti writer, walked into art school, walked out of art school and into Tattoos by Lou in his hometown of Miami. “I met Lou, I showed him some of my sketches and he said, ‘Hey, why don’t you come back tomorrow, kid?’ Ami [James] started a week after me and Emerson [Forth] also was that same week, so three of us who are still tattooing today all started our apprenticeships at the exact same time. Lou loved Emerson and Ami and I was just there to pickup—just really be the bitch of the shop.” But Nuñez wouldn’t have changed that for the world. “It was great, it was the best experience ever because I earned my apprenticeship, it wasn’t given to me. There wasn’t a single thing handed to me,” he says. The beauty of apprenticeships in tattooing and not most other training is that mentors teach their apprentices everything, to the point that if the apprentice works hard and pays attention they will be equipped to replace the mentor. How many other professions would give away all secrets to young strivers? “My apprenticeship was running the shop from the top to the bottom,” Nuñez says. “Before I even got to do a tattoo I spent months making needles, building click chords from a nickel and a paper clip, cleaning tubes, making stencils, taking payments and selling tattoos.” And of the actual “bitch work:” “There was getting coffee, washing cars and picking up dates—all for Lou, none for myself. But at the end of every night I got to be the 18-year-old kid who got to go to the coolest spots in the city and hang out with every club owner and hot models. That was the life.” The mustachioed judge had a different track in Texas. “I started out in my last years of high school and I just wanted tattoos so I figured out how to hand-poke tattoos and then made a ghetto hairdryer-rotary machine,” Peck says. “I got a bunch of my drug addict friends to give me money so I could buy some tattoo equipment, and to repay them I tattooed them all. I tattooed hundreds of people and I had never seen a tattoo magazine or been to a shop—I didn’t know that it was a career possibility.” He, too, walked in and then right out of art school but eventually landed at a piercing shop that was just starting to do tattoos. He was their first tattooer and admits that both he and they were clueless. Then Richard Stell came to town and, after being bothered by Peck for a spell, offered to show him how to really tattoo. “He told me to start over,” Peck recounts. “Every habit I had was bad. It was harder starting over than starting from scratch. When I first started tattooing I thought that I was reinventing the wheel, like, I didn’t use any black for outlines. Richard, he told me, ‘Your bullshit isn’t going to work. We did that shit when I was a kid too.’” By being around Stell, Peck was afforded the ability to see other older legends and their tattoos, but more importantly, the tattoos on them. For a young Peck, whose first tattoos hadn’t aged a decade, to see how tattoos sat after 20 years made an impact on his approach to tattooing. “With apprenticeships going away, no one is fucking hitting kids on the back of the head,” Peck says. “Trial by fire is not the way to learn tattooing. So many tattooers now do things to their tattoos, like pack white into it and make it look shiny, for the portfolio. I tell everybody who works for me if you put an unhealed photo in your book you are misrepresenting the tattoo that they are going to live with. If you put a bunch of glossy, wet, unhealed photos in your portfolio you are a fucking liar. You are selling me something that I am going to have for a week, not 20 years.” In no way is this season of Ink Master meant to serve as a crash course in tattooing, this is no Tattoo School, but rather a reminder to the community that there was a soul to tattooing and that with the right training the art will stand the test of time. “The lesson this season is that only the people who did real apprenticeships, and I’m talking apprentices and mentors, will be the last people to be in the competition,” Nuñez says. “All those who did half-assed shit go half-assed out quick.”

BARTENDER STEPHANIE PIETZ AT WASTED GRAIN (HOME OF THE 100 PROOF LOUNGE) IN SCOTTSDALE, ARIZONA IS A STRAIGHT SHOOTER.


What’s the scene like at Wasted Grain? I would describe it as a Prohibition-style bar that offers live music and an upstairs nightclub. Whether you’re in the mood for live jams, club music or an oversized chill patio scene, we have it covered. You guys seem to throw a lot of themed parties. Every weekend we have a different theme, from Alice in Wonderland to Under the Sea. One of my favorites was our Where’s Waldo? party. How do the customers react to your tattoos? Most customers love my tats! I get a ton of compliments on my tiger tattoo. But I’ve also had a few older gentlemen make shitty comments like, “Why would you put a bumper sticker on a Bentley?” What is your favorite piece? I’ve always been fascinated with Japanese culture and when I knew I wanted tattoos, a Japanese sleeve was the first thing I pictured. Being able to actually have the work done in Japan was just a bonus! What do you think about a guy who drinks tequila? If a man can shoot back shots of tequila with me, then he’s good in my book. I’ve even taken a shot of tequila through my nose! Wait, what? Taking a shot of tequila through the nose is better than doing a line of cocaine! Honestly, if you do it right, it’s not that bad. I went to a biker clubhouse and the only way girls were allowed in is if they spun a wheel that would eventually land on some kind of derogatory act. I didn’t feel like flashing my tits or leaving my panties on a string above the bar, so I told them I wouldn’t spin the wheel. They said the only other option was to take a shot of tequila through the nose. So I said, Fuck it, line it up!