News
March 31
You've made the decision - you're going to do it. But there is no sign for Tribal Ways on the outer street. You walk back and forth, looking for vibrant colors and proclamations, but all that greets your eye is the store's address on the side of an unmarked building. Stepping inside, you wonder if you're in the wrong place. This looks like an official office building, complete with a black felt directory guiding visitors to the correct floor. But there it is, and apparently, Tribal Ways occupies the entire second story.The elevator doors open, and there's a stark, gray and white hallway; still no sign of body modification madness, save for the immediate smell of incense mingled with cigarette smoke that immediately meets your nostrils. Maybe you are in the right place?Walking through the door, you're greeted with what looks like a doctor's waiting room that has undergone an intensive makeover. The walls are bright tomato red, and adorned with tribal tapestries. Dark, wood-carved faces fill empty spaces, and a poster proclaiming "The Ten Indian Commandments" ("Remain close to the Great Spirit"..."Be truthful and honest at all times"...) hangs prominently. A futon dotted with midnight blue, smiling sun pillows serves in place of an uncomfortable couch.Wait, where's the brain-dead, muscular, long-haired guy with a needle? Where's the blaring punk? Instead, there's a traditional wooden desk at the back of the tiny room, and next to an ashtray, a wooden picture frame with words like "Grandchildren" and "Love" emblazoned across it. An adorable, smiling baby beams from inside. The room is a mix of spirituality and class - one that's clearly all-business with an absolute vibe and a definite attitude. The source of this attitude becomes clear aurally. In between chatter about local radio stations, business, and dinner plans, an intermittent buzzing emits from an unseen room. It's a glorious sound, and a small victory for co-owners Micheal Desplaines and Stephen Palaschak, tattoo artists and Massachusetts dwellers who want their bodies to serve as canvases. You sit down, and wait your turn. You are about to be tattooed, and you can now do it legally.On Jan.31, Tribal Ways - and scores of other shops - received government permission to include the previously banned art of tattooing among its services. Before last week, if you wanted to express yourself with a legal permanent ink etching in your skin in Massachusetts, you would have had to ask your local family practitioner to whip out his handy tattooing kit. Not too tempting.Tattooing had been illegal in the Commonwealth since 1962, after a hepatitis outbreak in New York was traced back to tattoo artists on Coney Island. Massachusetts, along with South Carolina and Oklahoma, was one of few states in which the art form was declared illegal."There were claims of disease and infection. Was there a hepatitis scare? A death risk? Maybe. Did it benefit the city? Yes," Palaschak said. "At the same time, what about Constitutional rights? Cleaning up a part of the city they deemed needed cleaning up, you've taken away Constitutional rights," he said.Martha's Vineyard residents Stephan A. Lanphear and John R. Parkinson, a licensed tattoo artist, agreed. They filed a lawsuit in conjunction with the American Civil Liberties Union on the grounds that the ban denied individuals the right to freedom of personal expression. Last October, Superior Court Judge Barbara Rouse decided that the ban was an unconstitutional infringement on freedom of expression. Suddenly, tattoos were legal for anyone over 18 years old. Rouse put a stay on the ruling until Jan. 31 to give cities a chance to set up regulations. So now the day has arrived, and not a moment too soon. The phones of every body-piercing outlet across the city have been ringing off the hook, with calls from patrons wanting to adorn their bodies with the newly regulated and highly personal symbols of expression.Tribal Ways has been in its current location (at the corner of Mass. Ave. and Newbury Street) for six years, and was founded on the basis of an intensely personal experience that Desplaines, a registered nurse, had while getting his body pierced. This transformative encounter with the spiritual piercing got him interested in the piercing business. His office was his kitchen table, with strangers waiting on the front porch for his coveted services.The store has always wanted to add tattooing to its menu of safe practices, and its clients have long expected it. For the past five years, potential customers have frequently phoned, only to find out about the state ban.This is true for most stores that deal in body art, and was especially a nuisance for The Jewelry Gallery, the glass-enclosed haven in Harvard Square's Garage that is frequented by area patrons eager to adorn their bodies with brand new silver or gold appendages. Today, a sign in the store's prominent front window proclaims that tattoos will soon be added to their menu of body modification."Body piercing and tattooing kind of go hand in hand," said employee Lisa Curtis.Like at Tribal Ways, even before the ban was lifted, people called "all the time." Now that the news is out and the sign is up, things have picked up at a rapid fire pace. "The buzz has increased - people have been calling everyday," the store owners said.In previous years, those itching to get a taste of body art have often opted for a less enduring bodily modifications. Subash Sehgal of India Antiques on Newbury Street has received many inquiries over the last few years; some callers ask about real tattoos, but most request Sehgal's highly-advertised, semi-permanent Henna tattoo, which lasts about two weeks. "Hundreds of people come," he said. "We've been busy."Like many stores that specialize in personal expression, Sehgal is looking into acquiring an artist and the equipment for tattooing.But Palaschak warns that although body art goes together a lot of the time, some of the worst places to get tattoos will be reconverted body piercing parlors. "We're piercers... we don't deem to be able to tattoo. People think 'I know needles so I can do tattooing.' They're completely unrelated arts. A piercer who doesn't know how to draw can't be a tattoo artist. "Look at an artist's portfolio," he said. "If they don't have one to show you, there' no way of knowing."As stores scramble to find qualified artists, hoping to join the tattoo bandwagon, New England tattoo parlors that once handled most of the Massachusetts business are left in a vulnerable position. Will their Bay State clientele fade considerably? Tom Sardin, a tattoo artist at Dragon's Lair Tattoo Studio in Salem, New Hampshire, seems doubtful - not only because of his faith in loyal patrons, but because of his confidence in the craft. "I don't think we'll have a problem. We've been here for ten years; we have a pretty steady clientele. And remember, just because it's legal, and just because you buy a tattoo magazine and send away for equipment, doesn't make you a tattoo artist," Sardin said. "Who wants to go to a tattoo parlor that just opened? Who do you want for open heart surgery, someone who's just started, or someone who's been doing it for 20 years?" The owners of Tribal Ways were well aware of the perils of incorporating tattooing into their operation. Finding a trustworthy artist to adhere to their strict standards was a hard task, they said. As soon as they heard the ban was lifted, they went into hardcore interview mode."Our reputation was so good, finding just the right tattoo artist was not the easiest thing in the world," said Palaschak.Their savior turned out to be a man with the given name of Dan Paine. No joke. Aaron Desplaines, Micheal's son and Tribal Ways' piercer, proudly displays a large, intricate, swirly black design on his upper arm. It's a brand new Paine original, applied just the day before. This is in addition to designs on his inner-lip, his lower legs, and various piercings, including a Madison - a barbell adorning the expanse of skin below the neck and above the chest. "I'm a glutton for punishment," he jokes.Fittingly enough, two mechanically enhanced sounds punctuate Aaron's sentences. During pauses, the room fills with the droning buzz of Paine's back-room handiwork ("Ahh, love that sound," Palaschak comments), and the constant ringing of the phone, which both employees greet with a roll of his eyes. "It just doesn't stop."According to Palaschak, Paine is looking to be booked at least a week, probably two, in advance. This is welcome news for the artist, who can emerge form behind closed doors to practice his passion legally, and publicly.Paine began his work like most tattoo artists - on a paper canvas, rather than a human one. He learned to draw in school, and practiced by creating what he calls "lots of morbid things.""My particular art style is very concurrent with traditional tattoo styles," he said.So much so that friends would often ask him to draw a design, which they then would take it to a tattoo parlor to have etched onto their bodies.Then a friend and tattoo artist made a proposition: If he showed him how to use the equipment, would Paine tattoo an original design on him? The trade was learned, and Paine adorned his friend with a "sleeve" - a tattoo that extends from the wrist to the upper-arm.Paine then practiced on himself and friends, until he raised enough money to buy his own supplies. "And then I was off and running. I was 17-years old. That's what I've been doing since."But his passion had to be practiced underground. Never deterred by the threat of the $300 fine or the year in jail punishment, Paine tattooed safely and effectively - out of his home.Tribal Ways has now given him the opportunity to do it legally, and commercially. Exit the red waiting room, and walk through a beaded curtain into light blue room. Push aside a second curtain, and pass through a warm orange meditation room complete with altar and incense, until you reach Paine's personal studio in back. Here, a computer is set up to toy with graphic images, a doctor's chair to recline in, and bags upon bags of disposable equipment that Paine will use to tattoo you. This is the only way he'll work. Everything is disposable: the needle packs, the plastic cover for his spray bottle, the miniature palette and ink holders... everything. Daily, he works through enough garbage to fill at least one good-sized trashcan."Even if I sterilize it and use it on someone else, the fact remains that it's been in someone else. And I'm not comfortable with that."Paine flips on a bright, fluorescent light so that the supplies can be seen up close - not a good idea for the faint of heart. First come the three needles compacted in a tight bundle, enclosed in a thick white plastic casing. This is what he uses for outline. A similar apparatus, with ten needles compacted together, is used for coloring, or large areas. Think of them as markers used for drawing. A thin, felt-tipped pen is used to define, a broader tipped one to cover large areas. Paine then inserts one of these tubes into a tattoo gun, hooks this up to a foot-pedal, presses down, and the buzzing begins.He also shows an example of his interpretation and artistry. A customer/friend has shown him a facsimile of what he wants drawn - a shoddily stenciled image of three intertwining circles on the margin of a sheet of paper. Paine shows what he has done with it - transformed the image into his own with a streamlined black ink representation on a pad of graph paper. This design is then transformed onto transfer paper, a thin, translucent substance representative of tracing paper. This is stuck on the skin, and the tattoo is applied through it.Paine is happy that he has a home, one where he can practice his trade in a legal, safe, and respectable atmosphere. He calls the former ban "absolutely unreasonable." "I'm glad it's over, because I'm an artist, and this is my medium. It's meditation for me. I love it, and it holds an absolute passion for me. I didn't like being denied that." Neither did the public, nor businesses that hoped to offer tattooing as one of their services. Tattooing is always in high demand, and now a concern to be aware of is the haste in which parlors will take to set up and offer the service now that it is legal. The October to January hiatus mandated by Rouse allowed time for regulations to be enacted, but so far no statewide rules have been created.According to Marie-Eileen Onieal, health policy coordinator with the Massachusetts Department of Public Health, model guidelines are put forth by the DPH to serve as an example for the 351 local boards of health to adopt and enforce themselves. Thus far, a state statutory framework has not been adopted. Suggestions to local boards include a refusal of service to any person who the tattoo artist deems to be under the influence of alcohol or drugs. They also recommend First Aid/CPR training, along with training in blood-borne pathogen and infectious disease, and the presence of a parent or legal guardian if a minor is being tattooed. "Model Regulations for Body Art Establishments" may or may not be enforced by local boards of health, which, according to Paine, means that "Any Joe Schmoe can tattoo you with a homemade gun, and a spoon... and no one would say anything about it." But the extensive list of detailed suggestions, including possible building renovations, acquirement of sterilization equipment, and other costly ventures, are taken seriously - if not officially then by the owners of stores looking to maintain a sterile, safe atmosphere."It's enough that it's going to scare away a lot of people who want to open up a tattoo parlor," said Gil Delcastillo, The Jewelry Gallery owner.This is where research and reputability come into play. Tribal Ways has built up a following and a reputation of care and quality over the past six years, and because of that, has filled up its tattoo schedule rather quickly. But Palaschak is insistent that Paine's appointment book is filled because of his talent and safety, not just because he has a tattoo gun. "There's always a demand. People need to be extra careful. One of the worst things you can do is run off to any old buddy because you can't get an appointment. You need to scratch your head and wonder why someone's not booked," said Palaschak.Not only does this include safety and quality, but also the level of comfort you'll be under while sitting for, at times, hours, and letting someone pierce your skin over and over again. "You also have to find someone with a good personality." Palaschak turns to Aaron. "Right?" He slaps him playfully. On the arm - directly on the surface of his day-old, fresh tattoo. Oops. "AAAAAAH!" Paine laughs at his handiwork.Aaron looks at his new adornment, as Palaschak offers a hug of forgiveness. "Man... first time... first of many, eh?"It's a loving atmosphere, and you leave with a permanent marking to remind you of it. Forever.
