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KAREN
ROZESACRED ROSE
By
Mary Gardner and Bob Baxter
With photographs by Bernard Clark
Karen
Roze runs a successful tattoo shop in Berkeley, California, the
legendary college town just across the bridge from San Francisco.
Karen started at the bottom as an apprentice, and even after becoming
a shop owner in the City by the Bay, was wise enough know when something
works and when it's time to move on. After nearly twenty years of
dedication and learning, Karen Roze has gathered together a dozen
like-minded artists in a working environment that is far more family-oriented
and spiritual than your typical rock-'em sock-'em tattoo parlor.
Karen talks more of healing than hurting, and, when you're in the
business of pushing ink into people's delicate skin, that's something
to admire.
After graduating
from the California College of the Arts in 1989 with a degree in
painting and print making, Karen had ideas about moving to New York
City and becoming a famous painter. "A very lofty idea,"
she remembers. "But I ended up in an art supply store in downtown
San Francisco and it was near Goldfield's Tattoo, so Henry Goldfield
would come in, as would Richard Cyr from Pat Martynuik's Picture
Machine. They were older guys with tattoos all over their hands
and everything. This was between 1989 and '91. I was fascinated,
but I didn't have any ink at the time. I just never got around to
it. I guess I wasn't confident enough or something.
"At the
time, I had a girlfriend who was really punk, and she was being
tattooed by Eddy Deutsche and Ed Hardy. I didn't know these guys
from Adam, so I didn't realize that they were the greatest tattooers
in the Bay Area or probably on the whole West Coast. I just got
lucky and went in with her one day to watch her get a tattoo from
Deutsche, and he said, 'Okay, you're next. What do you want?' I
said, 'I'm just watching,' and my friend Stacey called me a pussy.
So I just looked up on the wall and pointed to a kanji. I just got
a kanji and that was all.
"I
secretly always wanted a tattoo, but I had never gotten it. I just
needed an excuse. When I was getting the tattoo, I was really enjoying
it. I don't really like to get tattooed anymore, because it hurts
more now, but, back then, I was twenty-three or twenty-two and I
thought it felt good. The smell of the green soap was intoxicating.
I just thought, Hey, I want to get more tattoos. So, my second tattoo
was my whole leg. My only exposure, beside the punk rock scene,
was Japanese art work. There's a painter named Masami Teraoka who
did a traveling exhibition called 'Waves and Plagues,' large watercolors
that look like ukiyo-e woodblock prints. He lives in Honolulu and
it turns out he's friends with Ed Hardy, which I didn't know. So
I had Richard Cyr, who used to shop at my store, put on the tattoo.
And I immediately took over the process. First, I drew the whole
thing on tracing paper, then I made the stencil. I didn't know I
wasn't required to do all that. I thought I was supposed to do all
the ground work, so I measured my body and I did the whole placement
and even drew on my skin. I basically came in with most of the work
done. Richard didn't realize what I wanted was so big, so it ended
up taking about six months to complete. And during that time I decided
that tattooing was what I was going to do. It was just meant to
be. It was serendipity. I just had to be a tattooer.
"This was
back in 1991, and he tried to dissuade me. The only women tattooing
in the area were Laura Vida and Deborah Valentine. Laura was there
and this kid, Ichinohe Yushi from Japan, who owns Scratch Addiction
in Tokyo, now. And Paco Deitz who owns Graven Images in Redwood
City. Jen Gallagher was there, too. She now works at Ed Hardy's
Tattoo City. Picture Machine also had Jef Whiteheadhe was
just learningand Chris Conn. Jef taught me about the rules
of classic bold work, and Laura re-taught me the value of hygiene
and precision. Because of my early associations, I learned to work
in all styles and enjoy the history of the American tattoo as well
as the ancient Japanese and Pacific Island styles.
"All these
artists who are really popular now were just beginning, so I kind
of ensconced myself into an apprenticeship. The fact is, I just
wouldn't leave. I'd come in with coffee, I'd clean up and, pretty
soon, I was making needles for people. When Richard told me it would
cost five thousand dollars to learn to tattoo, I thought it was
a joke. I think he was just trying to make me quit. He tried everything
to make me quit. But they had an apprentice at the time who was
hurting people and doing just terrible work, so they let me stay.
My first tattoos where just fixing his. I guess they figured it
couldn't have been worse. It was an old-school shop, open from noon
to midnight.
"As soon
as I picked up a machineafter about a year of apprenticing,
making machines, making needles and such?I was working twelve-hour
shifts. It was like throwing me into the deep end of the pool, but
I am very grateful, because back then it was still not overcrowded.
There were only about fourteen shops in San Francisco. I don't know
how many there are now, maybe forty. We had a first-come, first-serve
policy. People would just walk in and sit on a bench, so I was really
busy all the time. That was a really good start.
"I worked
there about five years, managing the store and everythingunofficially,
I might add, because Richard was the official manager. It was a
cool apprenticeship, because I got to cut springs and wrap coils,
all the stuff that old, bearded guys at conventions talk about doing,
although I don't do all that anymore. I buy my own needles and have
other guys fix my machines, but I'm glad I learned that way. It's
like learning a hot roller set in beauty school, but you never really
do it. That was a tough shop and I'm really grateful that I had
the chance.
"In 1998,
I got fired along with everyone else in the store, kind of unceremoniously.
I think GuyPat died in 1989 and Picture Machine became the
property of Guy, his sonwanted to bring in new kids or something,
so I just left, not really knowing what I was doing. I found a nice
space, borrowed some money and started a shop. We just opened the
doors and began tattooing. I was already booked three months in
advance, back then. It was me and the guys from work. I brought
them with me. We were tattooing on milk crates before the furniture
arrived. All of us were very fortunate and blessed with abundant
business.
"The
shop was in San Francisco, but, two years ago, I decided to open
another shop in Berkeley and have two, because, I thought, everything
seems to run itself. I figured that I lived in Berkeley, I had another
child and I didn't want to commute. But it didn't run itself, because
as soon as I pulled out my energy, the shop fell apart. So, I sold
it. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. I was complaining about how
I couldn't control it and raise an infant at the same time, so this
woman offered me the right amount of money and I walked out. I just
took my machines and left all of the flash, most of the library
and all the artists. I didn't realize how much I was holding it
together with my energy. Now, it's a different shop with different
people and some of the artists came over to Berkeley to work with
me. Sure, there was some resistance at first, because, if you live
in San Francisco, Berkeley seems really far away. And that was a
walk-in shop. My current place is more custom, because we don't
have a lot of foot traffic. My shop is a friendly place where you
will feel at home, whether you're getting your first tattoo or an
entire body suit. All of the artists at Sacred Rose are great folks
who are dedicated to the art of tattooing and customer satisfaction.
"In the
past two years I have been incorporating Reiki and Buddhist healing
philosophy into my business. It's kind of an undercurrent in the
shop, so we are definitely more grounded. We're not outwardly saying
this is a Buddhist tattoo parlor or anything, but four out of ten
of us who work here are practitioners. So four of us have the dharma
healing techniques that we can use on customers, if they ask. I
don't mean to sound hippie or anything, but we do clear the energy
of the store at night and in the morning. Because of it, we find
that people will walk into the store and feel comfortable, and not
really know why. So, now the store is more a lifestyle store rather
than just a business. It incorporates the spiritual aspects of tattooing
and my regular life. I think people feel a healing energy here without
even trying.
"We feel
it's a bonus for customers and helps those of us who do this practice
not to be carriers of negative energy, because usually when you
tattoo people all their negative energy comes out, like at a therapy
session. Even if they're quiet, it still comes out, because tattooing
is an intimate thing that you're doing one-on-one. And as an artist
and a practitioner, I have to protect myself from that. I'm lucky
because I know certain techniques to protect myself as well as give
customers a blessing as they go out the door. So, even if we're
listening to Motorhead and doing a big skull tattoo, we still feel
really good when they leave. And I think we get a lot of repeat
business from the feeling they get from this relationship.
"Plus,
the people that work here are much more mature. I'm older now, too.
I'm in my forties and I don't have anyone here under thirty-five.
Except for my front desk girl, a college student. Actually, we say
we ruined her because she graduated from Cal Berkeley. She's the
first college graduate in her family with a Poly Sci degree, and
she decided she wants to be a tattoo artist. She's our shop apprentice,
and we have all taken her under our wing. She gets to be an apprentice
with ten teachers."
Now what could
be more creative and healing than that?
Karen Roze
Sacred Rose Tattoo
1728 University Avenue
Berkeley, California 94703
(510) 883-1083
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