by Emily Miller
In a world where even some of the most traditionally outlandish ideas are becoming the norm (single moms? working women? gasp!) it is no wonder that once-underground trends such as tattooing and piercing are becoming popular. Nearly every fourteen-year-old girl nowadays cannot wait to get her bellybutton pierced, while ear piercing is becoming pass� among the youth (unless, of course, you've got three or four in your lobe and an industrial through your cartilage). It seems that every other celebrity has a tattoo now - Angelina Jolie's probably get the most press - and what was once delegated to the underbelly of the society has become standard for the cream of the crop.
Doctors, lawyers, nurses, social workers - you would be surprised to find out just who has ink - and how much. It has become general consensus that the tattoo craze began in the late nineties, and yet, amazingly the art of tattoo was not yet legal in some areas, like the whole of the state of Massachusetts. There, tattoo artists had to work in secrecy - or close-to-secrecy - in order to make a living. Operating out of vans, their basements, and the like, these unlicensed and illegal tattoo artists gave people tattoos healthily, cleanly, and safely (most of the time). According to Brenda Wynne, a Boston local artist and shop owner, this was because of the famed clean up of Scollay Square (now Government Center), once a haven for barflies and sailors on layover. She says that a bad infection may have gone around, and it led local officials to ban tattooing in its entirety.
In fact, an outbreak of the hepatitis virus in New York in 1962 led to Massachusetts�s decision to ban tattooing. The outbreak had been traced to tattoo artists operating out of Coney Island. Tattooing in Boston was punishable by up to a year in jail or a fine of $300. Several other states in the U.S., such as Oklahoma and Cleveland, also consider the art of tattooing to be a criminal act, according to the Associated Press. Until 2001, tattoo-lovers and -dreamers in Massachusetts either risked a run-in with the law or had to drive to a neighboring state, usually New Hampshire, where border towns like Pelham and Nashua made money out of their ears with the majority of Massachusetts' tattoo crowd's business.
On January 23, 2001 the Commonwealth of Massachusetts brought forward a model for regulations concerning body art establishments. This was prompted by the court decision of Lanphear v Commonwealth of Massachusetts, according to the official Massachusetts government website. Stephan Lanphear, a tattoo artist licensed in New York, challenged the law when he decided he was interested in opening a tattoo parlor on Martha�s Vineyard. He brought the case forward with Richard Parkinson, a tattoo collector living in Martha�s Vineyard who wanted to be able to get some ink legally in his home state.
In this case, where Lanphear and Parkinson were backed by the American Civil Liberties Union, the Suffolk Superior Court ruled in October of 2000 that the statutory ban on tattooing was unconstitutional, and that the lifting of the ban was to take effect on January 31 of the same year. This set of regulations was meant to serve as a standard for local boards of health, which they could adapt to their choosing as long as there was a proper review process. This action led to the lifting of the 38 year old ban, a decision put off because of health concerns. The state Health Department had been apprehensive of the spread of HIV and other viruses, like hepatitis, through reused and contaminated needles. The interlude between the court�s decision and the actual enacting of the law was meant to give the Department of Health time to procure a list of regulations, according to the Associated Press.
Deidre Doyle, the only female tattoo artist at Pino Bros. Ink in Cambridge, noted a unique problem: �I met a female tattooer when I was in college, talked to her about getting into the business. She offered me an apprenticeship, but after six months I left because she was crazy. I took a desk job at a shop in Queens, and finished my apprenticeship after I graduated school. Then I moved back up here � and it wasn�t legal.�
As with any body modification, tattooing is not just a statewide concern. The Food and Drug Administration has a �Tattoo Fact Sheet� posted online, which lists, among other things, the risks involved in tattooing. Also included are the sections entitled, �A Common Problem: Dissatisfaction,� and �What About Temporary Tattoos?� There is also a warning against henna. As ridiculous (and obvious) some of the FDA�s information seems to be, the department does make one sound point � some problems occur, such as allergic reaction to ink, which can be serious if not treated correctly. Because of �other public health priorities and a previous lack of evidence of safety concerns, FDA has not traditionally regulated tattoo inks or the pigments used in them.� Tattooing has been around since ancient times- Polynesians gave them as rites of manhood (and still sometimes do); Egyptians used them to identify women for ritualistic purposes, and even in Greece and Rome, where designboom.com claims they were considered exotic beauty marks. Men like Sailor Jerry Collins and Stoney St. Clair tattooed sailors and marines, documenting the World Wars and everything in between. With that kind of history, one might think the FDA would step up the reviewing process.
Another challenge facing tattoo artists is the stigma associated with a tattoo shop. Bikers, bawdy women, dirty equipment, even brawls habitually come to the minds of those who belong to an earlier generation. Residents often do not want the taint of a tat shop soiling their neighborhoods. What many people do not realize is that as tattooing becomes more popular, a sanitary and safe work area becomes a must.
However, now that the ban has been lifted, tattoo parlors � quality shops � have been springing up all over Massachusetts, notably in the areas surrounding Boston. Allston, Cambridge, and Jamaica Plain all boast shops with talented artists. A few of these artists started out in other states, obtaining their licenses there, while others graduated from art schools with BFAs and took up the craft less than ten years ago.
One such shop, Pino Brothers Ink in Cambridge, boasts five quality artists, a piercer, and an apprentice. The shop has been open for only five years, but already the work created by their artists is nothing to be scoffed at.
Kurt Brown, one of Pino Bros.� artists, has been in the shop for three years. In his experience, there�s been no negativity from the neighboring businesses. Pino Bros. seems to have a win-win situation with a restaurant down the block, Brown says: �They help us out with free food, we help them out with tattoos.� As for the process of opening and maintaining the shop, however, Brown calls the health codes in Massachusetts �strict� and �rigorous.� There are constant check-ups by health officials, classes that the artists have to take (they all must be certified in CPR and First Aid, for example), and a basic standard of cleanliness that must be upheld.
Such codes include regulations for the autoclave, a sterilizer used to clean equipment. Also in the rule book is the �bagging� of a tattoo artist�s gun and the cable, to further prevent the transmission of bacteria.
Matt Myrdal of Pino Bros., while concerned about health, is also concerned about his client�s comfort. His work area comes complete with a television and an impressive array of movies to choose from. �You go in any place and the artist will just throw on whatever music they want, they won�t talk to you, stuff like that. You�re at the mercy of the artist.� The entertainment, he says, is to help the tattooee relax and to distract from the pain. Nerves and low blood sugar are often instruments of disaster for someone getting a tattoo � the combination of adrenaline and an empty stomach often results in fainting. �I mean sometimes people are totally fine, and then they stand up. The candy machines upstairs are to help pull up blood sugar.� Some tattoo artists (though this is true in any profession) exude condescension as profusely as they exhale carbon dioxide. The attitude creates a hostile and nerve-wracking environment. But Myrdal, a friendly and talkative artist, stated, �People don�t have any right to act like a dickhead just because they�re good at a craft.� Amen.
Scott Matalon, owner of Stingray Body Art in Allston, agrees that the health codes are well enforced � but believes they should be even tougher. �[The health codes] aren�t anywhere near strict enough. There�s still too much oversight,� he says. He, too, said there was no real problem with the neighborhood when starting up, and did not notice any �special negativity� from the city, though the reviewing process is typically a long nine to twelve months. What was difficult to deal with for Matalon were, surprisingly, the fire codes. Since the Rhode Island club fire in 2003, where 100 people were killed, fire codes in the area were updated and have been strictly enforced. Matalon states: �They�re requesting levels [of safety] that manufacturers haven�t even invented yet.�
But Matalon and his co-owner, Brenda Wynne, went through the battle anyway. Why all the hassle? Says Matalon, �We consciously wanted to make a better shop.� Here, like at Pino Bros., most of the artists have gone to art school � their apprentice Nate Stevens even earned his masters in art. �Art school�s helpful because tattooing�s become so popular over the past ten years that the demand for better art has gone up. But it�s a completely different medium, you�re learning a lot of things � it�s not just learning how to use the gun,� Matalon says.
The process of becoming a tattoo artist is varied. Though it is called the same in every shop across the United States, the actual education and understanding received are diverse. Each artist has their own method, and learning under any artist does not guarantee a complete edification. This, Matalon argues, is not the way to go about it. �There�s a tremendous inconsistency in apprenticeship. It�s all over the place,� he says. �That�s got to change.�
Mike Lafontaine, an artist and the owner of Tattoo Fever in Pelham, New Hampshire, says that business remains good, though tattooing is now legal in Massachusetts. �We do a lot of cover-up work now that a lot of parlors have opened in Massachusetts. Overall, I guess it did hurt our industry, but not here.� Tattoo Fever has been open for twenty-five years and boasts a clientele that includes members of the band Godsmack and actors like Mark Wahlberg. Lafontaine is unconcerned about the developments over state lines. �People go where they trust the artist, not a new place down the street,� he says.
So is tattoo really a taboo any more? Even though ink is still banned in Oklahoma and Cleveland, how long can those states outrun pop culture? Whether the die-hard fans of tattoo may not want to admit it, getting pricked is no longer �alternative.� With the advent of cleaner work spaces, more than qualified artists, and a new approach, one thing is becoming clear: tattoos are leaving their mark on society.