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¡VIVA
LA BLACK & GRAY!-BIG GUS MAKES HIS MARK
By Bob Baxter
Big
Gus blows me away! I've seen his work at tattoo events in California
and Arizona. His astounding black-and-gray murals bring to mind
the best of Good Time Charlie Cartwright, Jack Rudy, Freddy Negrete
and Brian Everett, the pioneers of the style, the masters of world-class,
fine-line tattoos. These innovative geniuses and their unparalleled
single-needle work stood the world on its ear nearly three decades
ago. "They'll fade and never last," said the critics.
Well, they did last and the technique is back stronger than ever
with new, young artists like Big Gus, but the story doesn't end
there. Big Gus had a hard time of it. I guess you could say he was
a "bad boy." But the bad boy had a life-changing epiphany,
got focused, realigned his priorities and now, at 28, is married,
the father of four and the co-owner of the coolest insider shop
on the boulevard. No doubt about it, Gus has arrived. The tattoo
life offers many rewards, especially for someone with his level
of talent, and Big Gus has it all: love for his family, respect
for his heritage and a passion for the art. If this is the direction
tattooing is going in the future, we can count our blessings: Big
Gus is leading the way. ¡Viva la black-and-gray. Viva Big
Gus!
BOB BAXTER:
What's the name of your shop?
BIG GUS: Demented
Image Art Studios, Los Angeles, California.
BB: When did
you begin to draw?
BG: I've been
drawing ever since I can remember holding a paintbrush in my hand.
My mom was an artist. She was actually a graduate from the university
in my country, Nicaragua, in Central America. She had a full degree
and everything. When I was little, she used to buy me those paint-by-number
sets to help you color coordinate. She used to buy me those all
the time, and I do it with my kids now, too. That was kind of my
beginning steps. I remember drawing Snoopy freehand when I was in
first grade. The teacher called my parents in because she though
I was tracing. I told the teacher, "I didn't trace it,"
and she said, "Don't lie to me. It's not a good thing to lie.
So, they called my parents in and they made me draw it right there,
and I did. I really tripped the teacher out. I've been drawing since
I can remember.
BB: I've heard
you say that the tattooing you do is "cultural." What
do you mean by that?
BG: It's part
of an expanding culture. It relates back to our ancestors in the
ancient and Mayan days to as recent as Pancho Villa and Zapata and
the rebel days of the war. To the gangbanging days, which is something
I don't endorse. Tattooing became part of gangbanging in an effort
to show the difference between us and other people. To show the
difference between the gangsters on the Westside-I don't really
like to use the term "gangsters." It's a gangster style,
because gangsters were the first ones to get tattooed that way.
BB: Single-needle
work with a guitar string?
BG: Right. A
guitar string. That's how I learned to tattoo. I grew up in a rough
neighborhood. I had my friends make my machines because they were
older than me. Guys that had been around already. A lot of my friends
aren't around anymore, so I had to step up and take their place.
I was the artist of the neighborhood. That's how I started. India
Ink with a guitar string and a rubber band. The whole jailhouse
thing. I did that until about the age of 18. From about the age
of 14, when I started tattooing, to the age of about 18 or 19, when
my wife got me my first professional machine. You know, those kits
they sell in the magazines? I call them the kits that work like
shit. But I'll be honest with you, for someone in the ghetto that
hasn't got any money, that's the easiest way to get a professional
machine. You know, you cannot get a good machine from a professional
shop. They won't sell it to you. Any decent shop, anyway. Any shop
with the ways of the old school is not going to sell to you.
BB: And suppliers
will ask where you work.
BG:
Certain suppliers. Some suppliers, like at the Pomona convention-there's
a couple that sell to the public. That shouldn't be happening. I
got into tattooing by luck. I got hired by luck. I met the right
person. I started working at Stinky Ink in Pico Rivera. The owner's
name was Lonnie Oster. He gave me my first break. I just went in
there and showed him some pieces I did and he said, "You're
hired." I didn't know how to make needles, nothing. I was ignorant
to the business. But he took a chance on me, because he saw I had
some kind of drawing skills. I just progressed and learned from
watching people.
BB: Where did
you learn to make needles?
BG: I knew a
couple guys there. One guy's name was Drew. He's the one that showed
me how to make needles. He was the one who pretty much gave me my
quick apprenticeship, while I was working at the same time. And
that's how I learned the basics of tattooing. I was never taught
how to do certain things. I had to learn on my own, just from watching
people. In this business, people are really secretive. Instead of
being really open about things, which I understand, because now
that I'm at the point I'm tattooing the way I do. I understand not
wanting to give everything away. Once I started learning in the
shop, I was taught old school: don't apprentice anybody, because
his mom is going to open up a shop. You know what I'm talking about.
I've only had one apprentice in eight years. I don't want anymore.
I don't need anymore.
BB: You've been
tattooing eight years?
BG: Let's see,
I started in 2002. Professionally, I'd say six years. After Stinky
Ink I worked in about five other shops before here. They were pretty
much hole-in-the-wall shops around the L.A. area. But besides tattooing,
I love to paint and work with acrylics and draw with pencil. I started
doing graffiti when I was nine. I've tried graffiti, acrylics, pencil-every
medium there is. I tell people, if you can take your time and tattoo
like you draw, you can be a great artist. Once you can accomplish
that, you can master both things. But you can't ever master tattooing.
You can master the pencil, but you can only go so far with it. But
with tattooing, even someone who hasn't been tattooing that long
can show you something that can totally change your whole way of
doing things. That's pretty much how it came to be.
BB: Who were
your main influences?
BG: Jack Rudy
and Freddy Negrete. I remember meeting Freddy Negrete when I was
14. One of my friends was his nephew. That's what made me want to
start tattooing. I was really scared about starting to tattoo, you
know, thinking I might mess someone up. But once you see work like
that, you really admire it. You say, "I want to be like that."
I remember getting my first shop tattoo at a shop called Rose &
Dagger on Garfield. Murdock did it. He did my first shop tattoo
at 17. I remember telling him, "I'm going to be like you when
I grow up." Now, every time I see him, he's like, "What's
up, Gus? Dude, I can't believe where you're at right now."
I told him, "I told you I was going to be like you, dog."
I totally saw the way it was going to be. I've made a lot of good
friends.
BB: Did you
find that people like Jack Rudy were helpful to you?
BG: Freddy was
cool. Freddy would talk more to us, because he was more open, probably
because I was from the neighborhood. Jack was cool, when I would
talk to him, when Murdock was working there. He would talk to you,
but he wouldn't talk to you talk to you, you know what I mean?
BB: Are there
people who influenced you that are not from around here?
BG:
Oh yeah, Paul Booth was major. Paul Booth took tattooing, especially
black-and-gray, to a whole other level. He made people see that
everything doesn't need to be outlined. Everything doesn't need
to be so bold and dark. He took it to where it has a beautiful art
aspect about it. Three dimensional, contrast, the lighting. There's
more to art than just a tattoo. There's the way the light and shadows
hit the tattoo, the contrast, where it's going on the body, how
it's flowing-all of that matters. And Paul Booth showed that. Another
one, Jack Rudy for sure. Jack Rudy to me is my number one influence.
Jack and Freddy Negrete are my two major influences. I grew up doing
the Chicanas, Mexican girls in the sombreros, doing the gangster
street stuff. Jack and Freddy and Murdock did that stuff.
BB: One thing
I like about your work is your wonderful placement.
BG: My friend
David helps me with that. I have lots of help around my shop. I'm
a good artist but I need lots of help. I'm barely touching the iceberg
right now. This is barely the tip of what I'm trying to do. I've
had my shop for three months. But I've been doing the convention
scene for a while now, and I have never been recognized. Something
happened to me within the last year which was life changing. I'd
tell you more but I can't talk about it. Since then, it opened my
eyes. All that you see here, I have accomplished all this in the
last 12 months. I wish this industry had more custom artists like
Antonio from Good Time Charlie's, my friend Pint-he's one of those
cats you kind of have to find-Bob Tyrrell, Juan Puente, Rick Walters
and Catfish Carl. Rick is kind of my papa in tattooing. He introduces
me to everybody. He'll say, "You have to take a look at this
kid's stuff, he's unbelievable." I'm really blessed to have
friends like that.
BB: Do you have
family?
BG: I have a
wife and four kids. I've always been able to survive with tattooing.
At first, it was hard. When I first started tattooing, I quit my
job. I was getting paid $21 an hour, but I couldn't handle it. I
used to mix rubber. I used to make the rubber for the O rings on
the space shuttle. It was hard work. Sweaty. Carbon and black in
your lungs. In the summer time, you're talking about 120 degrees
inside a metal shed. I quit that job. I told my wife, "I can't
do both these things," and she said, "Well, you know what
your love is. It's not mixing rubber. You should take the chance."
It's the best thing I've ever done. My life has totally changed.
I can afford stuff I never could for my kids. Plus we've had two
more since then. I've had my own house since I was 22 years old
and that's a lot more than a lot of people have, nowadays. I might
not drive a nice car but I have a nice place to go home to.
Big Gus
(310) 338-0278
www.dementedimage.com
gusart@verizonmail.com
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