From flesh to frame

For many tattooists, the needle wasn’t the first instrument of their ingenuity. Like most artists, their creations initially came to life on paper or canvas, via pencils, pens and paints

There’s a marked difference between what tattooers create for themselves and their works on flesh that remain on other people’s bodies for the rest of their lives. It’s akin to the relationship between craft and art: the technical skill demanded by a craft bounded by rules, and the limitless freedom of exploration and creativity offered by making art.

Last Saturday (Aug. 4) at Blackbird Cafe, Red Room Tattoo launched Past & Present, a surprisingly eclectic showcase celebrating its 10th anniversary. The exhibit features dozens of works by nearly 20 artists who’ve inhabited the distinctive corrugated-steel quonset hut on Nord Avenue over the years.

At the reception, Philip Thompson—whose intricate, vivid watercolor pieces include a gilded, smoking skull and a bloodied girl in a leopard headdress—told the CN&R that he’s driven by the energy, emotion and challenges surrounding the creation of his artwork. As a tattooer, on the other hand, he acts as a liaison for another person’s vision.

Both are fulfilling in different ways, explained Red Room owner Dylan Lapp. “You can put your own emotion and your own feelings [into your own art] … all your shit on something that’s 100 percent for you.”

One of Lapp’s pieces, “Gut Check,” is a compelling, visceral representation of heartbreak: At the center is an arrow-speared, fractured heart with a bloodshot blue eye shedding tears. A sign, painted in the style of the iconic Las Vegas welcome, reads, “Never again,” and etched in the foreground is a conflicting inner monologue: “I love you. I hate you. I’m sorry. I deserve it.”

The exhibit features a range of media—watercolor, ink, liquid acrylic and even coffee. Some pieces are similar to a traditional tattoo style—vixens in suggestive poses, blood-red roses and fierce eagles. Neil Sinclare’s “Right Meow” includes a dapper feline with a top hat, monocle and quill pen. Sini PDC’s “Spread Eagle” features a blonde bombshell with glittering locks draping her lithe arm across the wing of a screeching bird.

Other standouts include Andy Chism’s ink and watercolor piece named after its muse, “Wolf,” depicting the lone canine with bristling fur and lips pulled back in a snarl, one claw firmly gripping a skull emblazoned with a dripping crimson “FAITH.”

An Alice in Wonderland nightmare, Daat Kraus’ “Purple Death” is an eye-catching twisted rose, with a wide-eyed skull emerging from the center of its purple petals.

In one corner of the exhibit, it’s impossible to miss “Equestrian Beauty,” Matt Pardo’s brunette in bondage captured in a moment of ecstasy, wearing blinders and a bit gag. Amber Vail’s work is exceptional: From the shrouded, mysterious “Daphne” to the captivating portrait of the purple-eyed, black-lipped, red-collared woman of “Sweet Submission.”

It’s an engaging show, representative of the breadth of talent of the group of artists, such as Bryan Mansell, a beloved former Red Room tattooist who died last year. Mansell was clearly gifted. One of his pieces shows a woman in a golden-handled mirror, juxtaposed with another mirror showing Medusa with slate-gray, red-underbellied snakes for hair and pale-yellow eyes. Written on a ribbon: “As pretty as she is somebody somewhere is sick of her shit.”

There was an overall warmness to the show, of artist friends reuniting while also reaching out to others. Juan Ortega will dedicate the proceeds from his triptych skull to SkateMD, a nonprofit that brings skateboarding to children with developmental, physical or emotional challenges. And, during the opening party, Red Room raised over $300 for Carr Fire relief efforts.