When Art is Skin Deep!

Tattoos are one of the oldest forms of art and this is evident from the tattooed mummies discovered from various parts of the world. Much before it became associated with thugs, pirates and the underbelly of the society, the Egyptians, the Mayans, the Incas, the Aztecs, the Borneos, the Hawaiians, the Maoris, the Samoans, the Celts, the Japanese and the Indians each had their distinctive styles of tattooing and in each society it had an important socio-cultural significance. According to 1996 edition of the 30-volume Macmillan Dictionary of Art: “The art is attested in almost every culture worldwide....In Europe and North America, until the late 20th century, tattooing was largely connected with two groups: members of the armed forces and prisoners...From the 1960s onwards, however, changes in the social status of tattoo art in Europe and North America has led to considerable experimentation with forms and styles.”


Today tattoos are going through a phase of renaissance and regaining respect as an art form. Auteurs like Paul Booth, Guy Aithison, Bob Tyrrell, Aaron Cain , Ryan Dearringer, Den Yakovlev, Anil Gupta, Daemon Rowanchide, Filip Liu are not only experimenting with the genre with jaw-dropping effect, they are also pushing the envelope further by incorporating elements of fine art to it.

In the West, tattoo conventions and expos are commonplace and now even art galleries like Arts Center@319 in Virginia, Noyes Museum of Art in New Jersey, Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, National Maritime Museum in London, Hallways Contemporary Art Center in 0020New York, University of Colorado-Boulder museum, are opening the door of their galleries to tattoo artists and their art works-- tattoo related art form is a subject of study. Way back in 1986, the National Museum of American Art had added pieces of tattoo design work to its permanent art collection.

However, there is no denying the fact that tattoos are different from any other branch of fine art. Apart from the fact that here the artist’s perception is guided or based upon the wish of the client and these works of art has no resale value, here the canvas is human skin. “Like in any other art form, it is very important for the artist to have a good understanding of the medium he is working on. And skin is a unique medium-- it moves, it bleeds, it changes shape when you move and it can be of different types,” says Duncan Veigas, an artist with Kraayonz Tattoos, Goa. Everyone’s body has a unique flow to it and the challenge is to make a tattoo flow with the body.

According to Abhinandan Basu of Pune’s Inkalab: “The fact that it is on someone else’s skin also makes it the only form of art where a unique relationship based on trust develops between the artist and the medium. In no other art form does a medium have an opinion- but in tattooing they often do!”

However, Abhinandan also points out that Indian skin is far more difficult to work on than white skin—it is like painting on a tinted canvas. “We cannot use the entire range of colors available on tanned skin,” Abhinandan says.

There are various styles of tattooing. With the more common tribal, bio-mechanical, realism, portraits, Japanese, old school, new school etc there are some rare styles like painterly, animated, hyper realism, trash polka, realistic trash polka and the even rarer like dada.

Abhinandan, specializes in a comparatively new style of tattooing that is based on a technique developed by painters like Georges Seurat and Paul Signac. Called pointillism or dotism this neo-Impressionist style uses tiny dots to create a painting. “Over the last year I have been spending more time trying to develop this style and giving it a direction which is essentially my own and based on traditional Indo-Tibetan motifs. I call it Neo-Traditional-Dotism-in-Color. The USP of this style of tattooing is the unique look that these tattoos have - the geometric patterns give it a 3-D view and the Indian motifs balances it out with a softer, almost surreal look,” says Abhinandan. However, according to him colour realism remains by far his toughest challenge as the dark complexion of Indian skin limits the colour palatte.

Lokesh Verma of Delhi’s Devil’z Tattooz specializes in Xerox-perfect portraits and realism: “I love to reproduce images like faces or any other real image, the USP is that you have to do exactly what is given to you, there are no margins of error if you compare it to other abstract styles.”

However, Duncan does not believe in limiting his work to any particular style and says: “I keep myself open to any request that walks through the door. Given the fact that the tattoo culture is only just taking off in India, I think it is not a good idea to be proficient in just one style. I like to incorporate various styles in my tattoos depending on the design.” Duncan specializes in ‘custom-made designs’. “I may repeat the same idea if asked but not the same design,” says Duncan.

However, not all who ink can be called artists. There are multitudinous inkers who merely take a ‘tattoo flash’, copy it on the skin and trace around. Their work does not involve ‘art’ but a hand that is steady with the tattoo machine. A good tattoo artist should be a great freehand artist first. For Swapnil Gawde, a graduate from J J School of Arts who is now a tattoo artist with the Mumbai-based TattooStar Collective, tattooing has been an extension of his journey as an artist and Swapnil says: “I believe to be a good tattoo artist one needs to be a good artist first. Tattooing has a lot of technical aspects to it, but at the core of everything is the art. Technology can be learnt but art is inherent and can only be honed.”

In the West there are connoisseurs who treat tattoos as collector’s item. There are artists who draw directly onto the skin first and then tattoo. The use of stencils in these cases is almost nil.

“It is like commissioning a painting from a renowned painter. You know the style and the kind of imagery to expect and the fact that you would get a one-of-a-kind work of art, but the rest is on the artist’s imagination and interpretation,” elaborates Duncan. However, in India, the artists have a long way to go to establish the status of a tattoo from a mere ‘fashion statement’ to a ‘work of art’.  

The tattoo side story

Tattoos are probably one of the oldest surviving art forms and its styles as diverse as the people wearing them. For some, tattoos are markers used to differentiate a clan from the rest, some believe in its ‘therapeutic’ benefits and some in its magical powers; some wear tattoos to look more attractive and a few to look ugly.


In 1991, a mummy of a man who lived in around 3,300 BC was found frozen in the Ötztal Alps and it bore 57 tattoos. However, the very first tattoo was probably created by accident by rubbing soot-covered hands over open wounds. It was the Egyptians who spread the practice of tattooing. In 1891, archaeologists discovered the mummified remains of a tattooed woman in Thebes. Known as Amunet, she was a priestess of the goddess Hathor between 2160 BC and 1994 BC. The tattoos found on her body were made of dashes and dots. As time went by, the designs became more complex and by 1500 BC pictorial imagery of musicians, dancers, and acrobats started emerging in tattoos. While in Japan, figures found in tombs dated 3,000 BC or older, have faces painted or engraved to represent tattoo marks. In old-school Japanese tattoos the entire body would be tattooed and a common traditional body suit would cover the arms, back, upper legs and chest. This is known as Irezumi and it may take a horishi (tattoo artist) two to ten years to insert one Irezumi by hand.

Polynesian tattoos are one of the most intricate ones of the ancient world and these people believe that a person’s mana is displayed through their tattoo. Traditional Samoan male tattoo, known as the Pe'a, is an elaborate affair and covers the body from waist to knees. While in Hawaii, tattoos not only signify social status but are also believed to guard the bearer’s physical and spiritual health. The Maori, indigenous people of New Zealand, call their style of tattooing Ta-moko and is one of the most painful methods ever practiced. Here, instead of puncturing the skin, it is chiselled out and the pigment is applied over it. Traditionally, Maori tattoos were used as a means of personal identification and incorporated social status, lines of descent and tribal affiliations as well as exploits and events of life; and covered the entire face, as well as the legs and buttocks of men.

Roman writers like Virgil, and Seneca have documented instances of slaves and criminals being tattooed. During the early Roman Empire, all slaves exported were tattooed “tax paid” and many had “Stop me, I'm a runaway” marked on their foreheads as well. It was in fourth century when Constantine became the emperor, that tattooing on face was banned.

In India, tattooing is considered to be an ancient custom and can be still observed among the tribal people of Arunachal Pradesh, Nagaland, Orissa, Gujarat, Jharkhand, Bihar etc . While, Gond tribes wear tattoos to flaunt their status; Konyaks of Nagaland used to tattoo their faces like other headhunters from the Pacific islands. If Mal Paharia women believe tattooing keeps their organs healthy and helps them to function properly, some tribes perform tattoo ‘operations’ to heal muscle and joint pain.

Many believe the absence of tattoo marks would call upon the wrath of Yama after death, while some others plan to engage God in intricate riddles of tattoos in afterlife. While the legs of Khond women are completely marked with sets of parallel lines to make their legs strong for climbing; some Naga tribes believe that distinctive tattoo marks on women allow their ancestors to recognise them in heaven while others think tattoos could be used as currency to purchase food and other provisions in the afterlife. Women of Meena tribe wear tattoos on their hands and faces to look pretty, while women of Kutia Kondh tribe boast identical geometric facial tattoos to recognise each other in after life; Apatani tribe used to tattoo (this was banned in the 70s) the faces of their girls to mark them as their own as well as make them unattractive to rival tribes; and Chang women tattoo their face to frighten tigers!

— AG

Shekhawati: Hand-painted towns on sand

The RTDC hotel at Jhunjhunu was hardly impressive and the town didn’t look any better either. I do prefer places which are less touristy but Jhunjhunu seemed to have hardly seen any tourist until me. And I had planned to make this place my base for the next two days of my Shekhawati trip.


I had already started to regret my decision when I rather reluctantly boarded an auto-rickshaw to reach the market where according to my guidebook I was supposed to find some amazingly beautiful frescoed havelis. After a teeth-chattering roller-coaster ride through some of the narrowest and most serpentine lanes imaginable, when I finally reached where I thought I was supposed to reach, I realised that I was standing in the middle of a busy vegetable market looking for frescoed havelis! There must have been some terrible mistake — I must have landed myself on a doppelganger of the town mentioned in the guidebook!

Just as I was making my way through the crowd to catch an auto back to the hotel I saw a placard saying ‘Modi Haveli’ So, it exists! And I am on the right track!

The colossal wooden door with intricate carvings and fancy brass iron fittings did not prepare me for what was waiting for me inside — a stuck-in-time huge haveli with amazingly intricate frescos on each wall and roof along with an old caretaker who resembled Om Puri of Mirch Masala! He offered to show me around, in exchange for `100. Although I found the rate a bit too high, I was not ready to miss one inch of the experience that was the Ishwardas Modi Haveli.

As my Om Puri unlocked the doors of the rooms and legends he told me about the four brothers who built exact same rooms in the four corners of the house to avoid property dispute and how the 365 windows of the haveli were constructed in a manner to keep a constant flow of air and yet obstruct the harsh rays of sun from falling directly on the walls. However, the frescos had mesmerised me by then.

Unlike other parts of Rajasthan, Shekhawati, boasting of some obscure specks of village-towns jutting out from the arid desert, is yet to make its presence felt on the tourist map and it was not until I reached Bissau the next day, that I realised why this region was called ‘an open-air art gallery’ and was any art lover’s El Dorado!

The sleepy hamlet welcomed me with a cacophony of images vying for attention — horse, camel and elephant-drawn carriages of various shapes and sizes, mythological characters, solemn looking gods and goddesses, weird animals, curly moustached men, self-obsessed women, erotic couples, European soldiers, motor vehicles, trains, telephones, gramophones, balloons, bicycles and what not! The walls, roofs, parapets of every house were plastered with frescos with themes ranging from gravely religious to utter burlesque.

On our way to Bissau, we had stopped at a Police chowki to ask for directions. And the very mention of Bissau yielded the strangest of statements: “Arey woh Bissau jo Bangaliyon ka gaon hay?” I must have looked visibly shocked for the constable had quickly explained: “Madam wahan ke log Kalkatta mein hi rehtey hein”. Oh simple enough! But why would people from such an obscure village of Rajasthan travel all the way to Calcutta? The scorching sun must be having its effect on the constable, I thought.

And it was not until I reached Bissau that his ‘delirium’ started showing tell-tale signs of turning into reality. The ‘obscure village’ was lined with opulant, desolate havelis. As I stumbled upon a huge elephant standing on two legs, blowing a trumpet to please an European officer and a girl in swimming costume getting ready to take the plunge, I couldn’t resist asking a passerby about the mystery behind the locked doors. “Sab gaon gaye hain”... Gone to ‘native place’? Now where could that be? I wondered. Well, Calcutta of course! Most of the owners of these grand havelis are prosperous merchants who have migrated to Calcutta, he elaborated. I was rather curious to check the interiors of these havelis and asked one of the caretakers if I could manage a sneak peek. He asked me to call the owner for permission which I did and was curtly denied because I was an Indian. Only ‘foreign tourists’ are granted entry to this padlocked painted world I was told!

However, after Bissau, we headed towards arguably one of the most beautifully painted towns of the region — Ramgarh. So would there be frescos of Gabbar Singh and his boots? I could almost hear a spine-chilling voice echoing in my brain “Holi kab hay? Kab hay Holi?” The car screeched to a halt. I opened my eyes to reality and saw a road packed with cars, camel carts, donkeys, porters and general madness and a mass effort to clear the chaos leading to further chaos. Suddenly out of nowhere a man in a suit walked up to our car. “Please follow me,” he said in calm voice. I was hesitant to follow but we needed a way out from this pandemonium. So he guided us through narrow alleys and meandering lanes and landed us in front of a heritage property named Ramgarh Fresco. He then introduced himself as the ‘Manager’ of the heritage hotel and museum and told us that we could have our lunch there. He would then take us for a walk around the town. I suddenly realised I hadn’t eaten anything the whole day and the voice of Gabbar that I was hearing in my brain was actually my stomach grumbling for food! And what can be better that a scrumptious, authentic Rajasthani thali!

Most frescos of the haveli were beautifully restored and the ambience and the food were as good as the paintings on the wall. After chilling out for some time I accompanied Mr Manager for a walk around the town. Each haveli that he took me to had breathtakingly beautiful paintings and many were getting a facelift. The manager was a knowledgeable man and told me about the history of the region in great detail. Ramgarh, also known as Sethan Ramgarh (Ramgarh of the Seths) was established by the wealthy Poddars who rebelled against the hefty tax hike in Churu and relocated here. And the baroque havelis of the area were built in an attempt to outshine the flamboyance of their former home.

These small towns of Shekhawati were once part of the Southern Silk Route and were home to the rich and flourishing merchant community. As time passed, many members of this community migrated to Bombay and Calcutta in search of better prospects and with their inherent business acumen most of them made a fortune trading with the East India Company. Even today most of the lineage of the country’s most powerful industrialists and businessmen like the Neotias, the Ruias, the Birlas, the Goenkas and the Poddars can be traced back to the Shekhawati merchants.

It was a custom in this region for any trader who amasses a considerable amount of wealth to build four things in their native village — a haveli, a baoli (well), a mandir and a dharamshala. The more wealthy the businessman, the more lavish the construction and more intricate the frescos.

However, the frescos not only reflect the opulence of the owners of these havelis, they also document the changing socio-economic scenario. What started with painting gods and goddesses on the walls to protect the house from evil gradually started accommodating common men and their daily lives. The frescoes painted in the early 20th century reflected distinct European influences and gave birth to a new style of painting known as the ‘Company Style’ where airplanes, ships, sofa sets, sewing machines, gramophones, trains, trumpets, and telephones were painted using Rajasthani miniatures and so on.

Most of these painters had no direct contact with the western world and would depend on the elaborate, often absurd description of the traders back from a business trip abroad and the result would often be a bizarre interpretation of the actual objects. Most frescos that adorn these houses are over 100 to 200 years old and are done in a style similar to fresco buono method developed in Italy around the 14th century.

Today the profusely painted, often dilapidated, havelis that line the dust-laden lanes and by-lanes of these village towns are just mementos from that prosperous past.

However, my time was up. The sun was waning and my neck had already started to pain staring at the roofs, walls, windows; my eyes watery from the assault of colours, and I could feel crystals of ‘information’ stiffening my brain.

As I left for my next destination, I saw children playing marbles on the street, women making lacquer bangles and roasting them on hot plates, an old man explaining the meaning of some Sanskrit sloka to a young kid sitting on a chair at a corner of a narrow lane, and the brightly-coloured frescos shimmering on the backdrop of the pale ochre town.

And I knew I had to return to these hauntingly beautiful towns of Rajasthan.