11 These Tattoos Bite

I love chatting with the locals in small neighborhood bars. In the comfortable anonymity of these places, I sometimes reveal that I am tattooed. Often people want to see. If the situation is right, I oblige them and take off my shirt.

And then the most surprising thing happens. Sensing a rare opportunity, other customers and bar employees join in by pulling back their clothing to reveal tattoos—usually over half the men and women present. Most Japanese think that their countrymen do not have tattoos. The reality is that they don't show their tattoos.

Only one of these people admitted to a Yakuza connection. He was a civilian, but his father was a Yakuza gangster who wore a dragon tattoo. He had an amusing story from his boyhood.

When he was a child, his father threatened, “If you're bad, this dragon will bite you!” (お前が悪いことをしたら、この龍が噛みつくぞ！) That scared the hell out of the young boy.

Like many Yakuza, the father was missing portions of his fingers. Instead of admitting he had chopped off his own fingers in atonement for gangland transgressions, the father claimed to have been mutilated by a fan. The boy spent summers in mortal fear of electric fans.

His father left when he was young and had been largely incommunicado thereafter.

Nonetheless, on his chest the son bore the same dragon tattoo as his father.

10 Horiyoshi III on Tattooing Women

In all my time at Horiyoshi III's studios, I have seen a female tattoo client just three times.

The studios have no private room. My appointments were always in the afternoon, so initially I guessed that perhaps women’s appointments were in the morning, when somehow greater privacy was afforded them. As I have already told you, there was often a squad of male apprentices and tattoo enthusiasts present. Undressing and getting tattooed in front of them would surely give pause to any woman. It certainly intimidated me at first.

I avoid talking about other clients, so I did not ask about it for many years, but in 2009, I finally inquired with Horiyoshi about his female clientele.

“John-san,” he said in a slightly incredulous tone. “Now, how often have you seen women in my studios?” I admitted that most of the women I had seen were journalists. I asked why he had so few female clients.

“They just don't come here. It's hard for them to undress; it's uncomfortable. Personally, that's better for me. Frankly, I would rather not tattoo women.”

09 Horiyoshi III on the Addictiveness of Tattoos

 

In 2005, Horiyoshi III finished my backpiece. Yet I was in the grip of tattoo addiction, and I still had more time reserved with the master. The very next day we continued with munewari, the front of my torso. I had only a backpiece for just one day.

I commented to Horiyoshi III that tattoos are addictive, and he corrected me:

Tattoos are not an addiction; they are a collection. A tattoo collector is just like a conventional art collector who buys a painting, hangs it on the wall, and then moves on to acquire the next, unique piece.

Tattoo collecting is a spiritual pursuit, while addiction is a physiological need. Addicts repeatedly take the same drug over and over without limit. A tattoo collection has variety, and it has an end. Once you collect the whole set, you're done.

As you complete your tattoo collection, you yourself become art.

Indeed, soon after this I did start to feel like art, mostly because observers began to treat me like art.

08 Machine vs. Tebori Tattooing

I am often asked about the difference between machine and tebori (hand poke) tattooing. I experienced quite a bit of both, because in the years that he tattooed me, Horiyoshi III transitioned from tebori to machine.

As for how it feels, the location matters much, much more than the method. The main sensory difference is the sound and cadence of tebori. In this video of Horiyoshi III doing tebori, I can almost feel it myself.

Horiyoshi explained that it is the result attained after about four years that makes the biggest difference. He said that a machine works best for outlining because its precise, thin line does not spread out over the years, while tebori does spread out into soft, smooth gradients ideal for shading. He had an almost poetic way of stating it in Japanese that went something like, "The disadvantage of one method is an advantage in one application, and the disadvantage of the other method is an advantage in the other application."

Horiyoshi then commented, "You like tebori better, don't you, John-san." This man can see right through me. I guess I do like tebori, not because it feels any better, but because it's a rarer and more authentic experience that yields a superior result. Both methods involve needles, and getting stuck with needles hurts.

For the past few years Horiyoshi has used a machine exclusively. When I asked about this, he said that as one ages, it becomes difficult to perceive fast-moving objects. He dramatized by waving his hand past his face, then making a mystified expression as if he had missed something.

As you can see in the video, your skin moves around quite a bit during tebori, but with a machine, it stays relatively stationary. So, no more tebori.

07 The Changing Scene at Horiyoshi III's Studios

During the first years of my visits to Horiyoshi III, all manner of tattoo devotees were constantly present: foreign and domestic apprentices, Horiyoshi's clients, Horitomo and his clients, journalists, even graduate students researching their master’s thesis or doctoral dissertation.

Quite a few of the apprentices and clients I recognized from photographs in the various books about Horiyoshi's work. This photo was taken by Mr. Handa, who appeared in Takahiro Kitamura's book Bushido. This book influenced my tattoo choices, and here one the characters from the book had come to life and was taking pictures of my tattoos! What a role reversal.

Everyone took advantage of the opportunity to brandish their tattoos. Japanese of many occupations change clothes for work, which allowed the apprentices to show more skin, and of course we clients had to expose our tattoos. Outside the studio, tattoos could be displayed only at public baths and once a year at festivals, so this was a welcome respite from the disapproval lurking out there in the real Japan.

Everyone was polite, yet quite interested to see each other’s tattoos in progress. When I undressed, those present would take the opportunity to scrutinize me. Privacy was not a part of this experience. Nonetheless, I became accustomed to it, and I too was able to observe many superb tattoos.

Around 2007, the scene changed. The hangers-on were gone, and Horiyoshi and I were regularly alone during my appointments. Journalists, sensing the opportunity to record the end of an era, descended on the studios, where Horiyoshi welcomed them. I found it interesting to listen in on the interviews and even got the opportunity to comment myself. For a time, an article about Horiyoshi III appeared in almost every issue of Tattoo Burst, Japan's premier tattoo magazine.

Once in 2008 I arrived at the cramped Isecho studio to find it jammed with photographic equipment, a columnist for Tattoo Master magazine, an interpreter and a photographer. They took this fine cover photo for the Spring 2009 issue right there in that tiny room.

The mix of clients has changed over the years as well. In the early years of my experience, most appeared to be construction tradesmen, followed by an approximately equal numbers of foreigners and Yakuza.

In 2009 I mentioned these changes in clientèle to Horiyoshi and asked about the current mix. He gave the following estimate by profession:

• 60% Craftsmen and tradesmen. Through conversations with these clients, I found that many were themselves tattooists.
• 10% Yakuza. Horiyoshi added that there are other tattoo artists whose clientèle is almost entirely Yakuza.
• 30% Other. “You're in this category, John-san,” he told me with a grin.

As for nationality, 30-50% are foreigners. “In fact, today all appointments are with foreigners,” Horiyoshi commented one Saturday in 2009.

Rather than the mark of the Yakuza, these days a traditional Japanese bodysuit just might be the mark of a foreigner.

06 Horiyoshi III on Why We Get Tattooed

 

The client before me inspected his freshly colored skin in the mirror while gingerly dabbing it with a tissue. He and Horiyoshi III were discussing the motivation for getting tattooed as I listened with interest. I understood the main idea, but I knew there was more. So the next chance I got, I asked him for clarification.

Here is what he said:

We get tattooed for our own self satisfaction, but just like any social animal, people crave having an impact on others. When your tattoos are recognized by other people, you see their reaction, which in turn makes you feel good. If you lived alone on a deserted island where nobody else could see your tattoos, then they would be much less interesting.

It's just like anything else in life. We do things like work primarily to support ourselves, but we also live in a society, where we like to see our career success recognized by others.

This opportunity to ask a master at the top of his craft anything I want has been one of the supreme pleasures of my life. If only we practiced the same craft, I could take real advantage of the situation and ask some more practical questions.

04 Horiyoshi III on Tattoo Aftercare

Before sharing these stories, I first related them to Horiyoshi III to make sure he felt they were accurate and appropriate for disclosure. I also proposed topics that would remain off limits, but he waived these restrictions. He encouraged me to share all my experiences.

Horiyoshi had forgotten, or simply not noticed many of the events that I found memorable. Telling my Horiyoshi stories to Horiyoshi himself was fun for both of us. Today's anecdote is the one that seemed to amuse him the most.

Around 2006, a foreigner was getting tattooed by Horiyoshi. In the West, it is customary for the artist to provide the client with detailed aftercare instructions. After his session, the foreigner looked puzzled when Horiyoshi finished without saying anything. So, the client requested his instructions.

Horiyoshi replied in English, “Don't touch.” The master subscribes to the LITFA (leave it the fuck alone) school of tattoo aftercare.