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THE
TATTOO SCENE IN OMAHA Omaha is on the right side of Nebraska in the middle of a wide expanse of territory known as the Midwest. Colorado and Wyoming are on the left and Iowa and a small tip of upper Missouri are on the right. And, even though Omaha's very own Omaha Eppley Airfield is across the state line in Iowa, getting around town is pretty logical. Partly because no one is on the road, at least by Southern California standards. When you drive down the boulevard in Omaha, other drivers actually stay three or four car lengths behind you. And I didn't see one gas-guzzling Humvee the whole time I was there. Plus, I could walk free as a bird down the sidewalk without being elbowed, shouldered or arm-wrestled off the curb. In fact, in Omaha's Old Market District on a Wednesday afternoon, we pretty much had the whole place to ourselves. Remember that wonderful 1976 New Yorker cartoon cover by Saul Steinberg showing the view west on 9th Avenue and across the Hudson River? In Steinberg's America, from Jersey to the Pacific Ocean, everything west of the Hudson was a godforsaken wasteland. A sand-colored tabletop. Nebraska was situated right in the middle, next to a couple of big boulders. That was artistic license. There are no big boulders in Nebraska. Nebraska is famous for its corn. Nebraska is also famous for its weather. In the winter, Nebraska is three-feet deep in snow. And they have lots of tornados. In Los Angeles, we have detailed weather reports in the newspaper and numerous weathermen on TV, but we have no weather. It is always hot. It is always dry. The day we arrived in Omaha, there was such a violent storm that the raindrops pelted our windshield at 80 miles an hour-sideways. The reason for this, I was told, is that Nebraska has, virtually, no mountains. It's flat as a pancake or, rather, a corn fritter. Plus, it was 98 degrees Fahrenheit. After the deluge, the sky was filled with puffy white clouds and the temperature dropped to a spring-like 72. It stayed like that until we departed. Omaha is also famous for Warren Buffet. He's one of the richest men in the universe and he lives in a regular house on a regular street. That's Omaha for you. The point of all this, of course, is to point out the vast differences between Omaha and the big cities; the big cities where tattoo artists like Jack Rudy and Bob Roberts and Don Ed Hardy and Paul Booth live. What I discovered, however, is that tattooing in Omaha is not only on a par with places like Los Angeles and San Francisco, but there are a couple of things those big-city boys and girls could learn from these prairie-lovin', out-of-the-mainstream, ink-pushing corn huskers.
As Smitty walked me around (Chris was out of state at a convention), he told me about the effort Big Brain has made to set a standard for clean, efficient, ethical tattooing in the greater Omaha area. He talked about connecting with the powers that be to write and implement intelligent laws and guidelines for the Nebraska tattoo industry. Instead of waiting for others to act, Big Brain has been at the forefront of industry-friendly legislation. "There's about a dozen shops in town," said Smitty, "but we feel it's our responsibility to work for the good of us all. If one shop screws up, we all suffer." Not only did I like the physical layout of the shop, but the attitude of all the artists was positive and helpful. No one was playing tough guy or was too full of himself to politely and patiently answer the most elementary questions for customers. I was especially impressed with the preparations Chris made for my arrival. Each artist had prepared a large, separate, black presentation book with samples of his or her tattoo work and recent flash. And along with that, each person typed a personal, signed letter to me, expressing enthusiasm for both the art form in general and my visit. The tattoo work was good, in fact, some of it was great. It didn't look like a backwater tattoo shop to me. No doubt about it, the tattoo work from Big Brain would stand up in any shop in Los Angeles, New York or San Francisco. Chris Blinston and his team should be commended; Big Brain is a shining example for others to follow. As a member of the Tattoo Magazine Dream Team, one of Skin Art magazine's Top 20 Most Influential Artists and a winner of over 150 industry awards, an excerpt from Blinston's letter is worth sharing: "I have a true hatred for the mass of artists who get on the Internet, hide behind their keyboards and puke out ridicule and nonsense against other artists' work. There are so many levels to what we do in this business and, if these people would stop, think and remember that not all artists are on the same level, maybe they would realize that our business, our family, would be so much happier if constructive criticism was used instead of rude sarcasm. I can only think of three or four artists who have the right to speak out about others. Proving you are a disrespectful weasel will only bring the worst karma and a recipe for sure failure. There exists a pride in the business that comes from a camaraderie built over time. A sense of pride develops that makes you want to do better work, clean a little more and smile a lot more to your clients. To excel in this field, you need to feel the love and energy from those artists around you. That's the reason my mind can remain open and fresh, so I can produce artistry on the level that I do. I am thankful to those that allow me to follow my chosen path." Not bad for an artist a lot of the big city cats have never heard of. MATT
AT VILLAINS Matt has a lot of potential and he'd tell you he's learning all he can every day. Back in the big city, a young artist like Matt would have an ego like a rhinoceros and put down anyone within a 100-mile radius. Not Matt. My feeling is he's smart enough and talented enough to log some major tattoo time and see how far his talent can take him. At SKIN&INK, we receive hundreds of tattoo photos through the mail, looking for someone's work to stand out. We're looking for keepers. I would definitely publish Matt's work. If for nothing else but to keep track of him. I'd love to look back five years from now and see how he's developed as an artist. From what I got, when we talked, he loves the business and is going to stay the course. Tell ya what, Matt. In five years, send us a note and tell us what you're doing. And don't forget to include a couple of prize-winning photos. AMERICAN
TATTOO I was pleased to see the owner, Ira, again. His enthusiasm and old-school connections bring a level of authenticity some of the newer shops lack. He reminds me of the way tattooing used to be, run by authentic characters no living actor could duplicate. He's a good guy and I'm glad to see Ira in such a supportive environment. Eric was in Germany but Dominic and his wife, Kacy, introduced us to the rest of the crew. There were several people to photograph, and everyone was helpful. The work, of course, was wonderful. Dominic did a tiger armpiece that reminded me of the great Mike Rubendall. Yeah, it's Omaha all right, but I didn't find myself saying things like, "Nice placement," and "Very interesting," just to keep from telling the awful truth. The fact is, the work here is first-rate. No excuses need to be made and, like all the better young artists all around the world, there's lots of talk about Filip Leu and Paul Booth and Don Ed Hardy. These Omaha artists are not just tattooing to make a buck. They care about the art. They know the cast of characters and they respect the legends that have gone before. That's why an owner like Ira is important. He gives people that are new to the business a perspective, a sense of the past and a kick in the pants, if they wander too far off the line.
Another thing: Liquid Courage is, arguably, the hot shop in Omaha. It's the small-town equivalent of Blackheart in San Francisco or Good Time Charlie's in Anaheim. Sure, Omaha may not, at this moment in time, have a Jack Rudy, a Bob Roberts or a Greg James, but give it time. LQ is a collection of the best, no-frills tattooists in town. And, as you can see from their work, that's pretty damn good. And I can't remember a bunch of power hitters that were more polite and helpful. Everyone here seems dedicated to the art and dedicated to keeping the environment in the shop and the town both friendly and respectful. There's no two ways about it, the work Liquid Courage turns out is first-rate and imaginative. Artists here are not out of the mainstream, they simply have a different work ethic and a small town sensibility. Perhaps it's that sensibility that adds the positive, less competitive dimension to all the players involved. TIME
TO SAY GOODBYE P.S. While we were in Omaha (where my wife Mary was born), we visited Mary's mother. She loves SKIN&INK and reads it cover to cover. Hi, Mom! |
