Japanese Tattoos. Brian Ashcraft

Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу Japanese Tattoos - Brian Ashcraft страница 3

Japanese Tattoos - Brian  Ashcraft

Скачать книгу

      THE WORLD OF JAPANESE IREZUMI

      It was early spring. The weather was still too cold for the cherry blossoms to cover Japan in hues of pink and white. My coauthor Hori Benny, an American-born Osaka-based tattooist, and I took an early morning bullet train to Horiyoshi III’s Yokohama studio. Our interview with the world-famous tattooer was supposed to be only an hour, but we ended up spending the day with him, the first of several visits.

      During our talks, Horiyoshi III, who was busy working on a succession of clients, generously shared his insights. One of them in particular stuck with me as I wrote this book: “In a funny way, everything in Japan is connected to irezumi,” he said, using the Japanese word that refers to tattoos. The statement couldn’t have have been truer. In irezumi you’ll find expressions of the seasons, the folklore, the religions, and many other aspects of Japanese culture.

      WHAT DOES “IREZUMI” MEAN?

      Irezumi isn’t simply the Japanese word for “tattoos.” Throughout the country’s history, different words have referred to tattoos, and the word irezumi itself has been written with different characters, each having a separate meaning or nuance, whether that was the irezumi (入れ墨) that was a branding mark, meted out as punishment to criminals, or the irezumi (刺青) that was done of free will. Other words have been used, such as irebokuro (入れ黒子), which dates from the 1700s. Additional old terms include mon mon (紋々), where “mon” refers to a crest; or monshin (紋身), which literally means a crest on one’s body. These are not used today. The word horimono (彫り物), however, still is; it can refer to tattoos or any other engraved thing. More recently, the term wabori (和彫り), which means “Japanese engraving,” was coined in the 20th century to refer specifically to Japanese tattoos.

      AN ANCIENT TRADITION

      Tattoos go back as far as Japan’s recorded history. Japanese accounts as early as the fifth century mention punitive irezumi, but tattoos had other purposes before that. For example, a third-century Chinese account mentions that Japanese people tattooed themselves to mark social class and protect themselves from harmful sea creatures. If true, this would support the theory that the patterns on the faces of the prehistoric Japanese terracotta burial figures known as haniwa are not painted, but tattooed.

      There are other tattoo traditions in Japan with a long, rich history, such as that of the Ainu people in Hokkaido. Their facial and hand tattoos are from a different tradition than those found on Japan’s main island in cities like Osaka and Tokyo, and they fall outside the purview of this book.

      BECOMING A HORISHI

      In Japan, horishi (tattooers) study and train for years to master their craft. In the past, that meant a lengthy apprenticeship in which the apprentice, or deshi, would clean up the studio and practice drawing and tattooing himself (or, more recently, herself). This would continue until the day the master, or shisho, finally deemed the pupil good enough to work on actual clients.

      Some tattooers stick close to the master’s style or continue to work from iconic designs, while others might try to add their own interpretation or go off in another direction altogether. Once a tattooer debuts, “Hori” (彫), which refers to engraving or carving, is added before their name. Calling oneself “Hori” explicitly states a mastery of craft and artisan stature. It’s the irezumi equivalent of “Dr.” or “Prof.”

      Suikoden hero Roshi Ensei as depicted by influential Japanese woodblock artist Utagawa Kuniyoshi.

      A bodysuit featuring Emma-o, the Buddhist god of hell. Emma-o metes out sentences and rules the underworld. His hat reads 王 (ou), meaning “king,” and the wheels represent the Buddhist Wheel of Law.

      In this sculpture, a Japanese tattooer is using the tebori hand-poked method to tattoo a woman’s back with a dragon.

      This system has created close-knit tattoo families called ichimon. Even after graduating and setting up shops of their own, former apprentices continue to have close relationships with their master and are expected to take care of their teacher should something happen. Not all of Japan’s best tattooists have gone through an apprenticeship. What they all share is a serious study of tattoo motifs and design, whether with a mentor or not.

      A LIFESTYLE CHOICE

      People in Japan get irezumi for a variety of reasons. Some get them to protect their bodies, or for religious reasons. Others get tattoos because they look good.

      Whatever the reason, irezumi is a lifestyle choice—and in Japan, a brave one at that. Even today, when tattooed people in Japan go out in public, unless it’s a specific special occasion, such as a religious festival; or a safe environment, such as a bohemian district of a big city, most cover up their ink. This is because of the widespread belief that only Japan’s gangsters, the yakuza, have irezumi, so if you are tattooed you are dangerous. Covering up one’s ink is not only a courtesy to avoid unsettling others, but is also to protect from discrimination, whether applying for a job or renting an apartment. My local bartender in suburban Osaka has had his biceps inked with Polynesian-style “tribal” designs. When I asked him why he hadn’t gone with Japanese irezumi motifs, such as flowers or Buddhist gods, he replied, “Because I don’t want to be confused with a gangster.” There are also notions in Japan that tattoos are dirty, because unclean needles spread a whole array of diseases, as well as a Confucian belief that it is disrespectful to modify the body bestowed on you by your parents.

      There is, however, a long, proud tradition of firemen, blue-collar workers, and artisans getting tattooed for religious convictions, to protect their bodies from hazardous work, and simply because irezumi look damn cool.

      UNDERGROUND TATTOO CULTURE

      Although largely hidden, irezumi culture remains strong. If you look closely, you’ll catch glimpses. A glimpse of red under a sleeve. Some black at the edge of a pair of shorts. Flashes of yellow or blue. Irezumi are designed to be covered and worn under clothes. But because tattoos aren’t out in the open in Japan as they are in the West, when you finally do see them, they have enormous impact and power. This is what makes irezumi unique; this is their appeal. Generally speaking, irezumi are personal and private, unlike Western-style tattoos, which often seem to be for show.

      In Japan, foreigners with tattoos are less likely to be judged harshly than the locals who have them. The common assumption is that Western-style tattoos are for fashion, while Japanese ones are for unsavory types. This is why inked celebrities like Johnny Depp or athletes like Brazilian soccer star Neymar Jr. can appear on television or in print ads with their tattoos on display. Meanwhile, many tattooed Japanese celebrities tend to cover their irezumi for fear of alienating fans or being misrepresented. Most people in Japan don’t see tattoos during daily life. The chances of you seeing someone’s irezumi at a PTA meeting, at a convenience store or McDonald’s, or even on the subway are very, very low.

      For all of that is made of irezumi’s connection to Japanese organized crime, it’s important to remember that, during the periods in which tattooers were persecuted and could be arrested for practicing their craft, it was the yakuza who kept tattooers employed. Regardless what you think of yakuza or their activities, if you like Japanese tattoos, the fact that yakuza have kept the tradition alive should be respected.

Скачать книгу