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THE CUSTOMIZED BODY |
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TATTOOING & SCARIFICATION A permanent body art, a tattoo is created whenever pigment is injected into (rather than on top of) the skin. No doubt the first such markings were made accidentally when, for example, soot got rubbed into a cut. Our early ancestors could have then deliberately reproduced the effect using a sharp splinter of antler or bone dipped in a vegetable or fruit dye. Accuracy and efficiency could be enhanced by attaching such a needle (or cluster of needles) to a pole which could be pushed or tapped with another stick into flesh. Alternatively, as amongst the Eskimos, a sooty thread could be 'sewn' through the skin using a needle. The only significant modification of these ancient techniques came in 1891 when 'Professor' Samuel O'Reilly patented the 'tattaugraph': the precursor of today's electric tattooing machines which insert needle and ink into skin at between 500 and 600 strokes per minute. (Prisoners have been known to make crude but effective copies of this device using a BIC pen, a piece of wire and a motor from a portable cassette player.) It was, however, the more ancient 'tat-tat' of two sticks which apparently inspired the Polynesian word ta (meaning, to strike or hit) which (via Captain Cook) eventually became tattoo in English (tatouage in French, tatowirung in German and tatuaggio in Italian). Because it is usually only the bones and not the skin of our more distant ancestors which have survived, the full antiquity of tattooing is impossible to ascertain. The oldest surviving complete human body is that of the 'Iceman' discovered only a few years ago frozen in a glacier in the Alps. Some 5000 years old, this Neolithic hunter's body has 15 tattoos including rows of short lines to the right and left of the spine, parallel stripes around the left wrist and a large cruciform mark on the inside of the right knee. Two female Egyptian mummies from the XI Dynasty (2160-1994 BC) -- Amunet, a priestess of the goddess Hathor and an anonymous dancer -- have abstract patterns of dots and dashes tattooed on their bodies (the former with an elliptical pattern running across her abdomen beneath the navel). The 2500-year-old body of a Scythian chief found in Pazyryk, Siberia in 1948 (preserved by the constant cold of his burial place) has extraordinary animal tattoos on his arms, chest, back and lower legs. The breathtaking, colourful graphic clarity of this chief's designs -- and in particular the skill with which their placement fits with the natural contours of the body -- would be the envy of any tattoo enthusiast today. Such accidental or deliberate mummification cannot, however, tell the whole story. Any human activity which is as geographically widespread as tattooing -- virtually covering the globe and appearing in places unlikely to have been historically linked -- must be very old indeed. To appreciate the true antiquity of this body art it is necessary to appreciate its logic. Our ancestors were traditional peoples -- wary of change, determined to preserve the status quo -- and the permanent alteration of appearance made possible by the discovery of tattooing was (and is) perfectly suited to such a lifestyle. For example, the permanence of a tattoo could reflect the permanence of a rite of passage which marked (literally) a young man or woman's coming of age and lifelong membership in a tribe. While our modern world may celebrate change and impermanence with the ephemeral, here-today-gone-tomorrow cycles of fashion, traditional societies are naturally drawn to those body arts like tattooing which resist the transitory and underline enduring stability. It should come as no surprise, therefore, that so many traditional societies perfected tattooing into an elaborate, often exquisite, art form. Perhaps most famous of these aesthetic traditions is the delicate, facial swirls of the New Zealand Maori whose designs were actually chiselled into the face. But just as extraordinary are the distinctive tattooing styles found throughout the Pacific (in particular, Samoa, the Philippines, the Marquesas, Hawaii, Borneo and Melanesia) and the body adornment of the Arapaho, Mohave, Cree and Eskimo peoples of North America. Ceramic figurines from Neolithic Japan have mouth tattoos similar to those worn by Ainu women until recent times and the detailed, whole body style of Japanese tattooing which flourished in the Edo Period (1600-1868) and which survives to this day is considered by many to be the epitome of the tattooist's art. In Central America the Incas, Mayas and Aztecs all developed sophisticated tattooing styles while the same was true in Europe of the Iberians, Gauls, Goths, Teutons, Picts, Scots and the Britons who, like the Picts, derive their name from their stunning body adornment (Pict probably coming from a Celtic word meaning 'etched' and Briton from the Breton word Breizard meaning 'painted in various colours'.) Indeed, with the exception of the ancient Greeks and romans, most Europeans -- like the 'Iceman' before them -- used tattooing to customize their bodies. This was true of hte early Christians as well and even many of the Crusaders returned home with tattooed tophies of their conquests. This attitude persisted until 325 A.D. when Constantine, declaring Christianity the official religion of the Holy Roman Empire, forbade tattooing of the face because it disfigured 'that fashioned in God's image.' In 787 AD Pope Hadrian banned tattooing anywhere on the body on the same grounds. Then, when the spirit of modernism flowered in the Renaissance -- delebrating change and progress -- it promoted interest in ephemeral fashion and, for the first time in human history, undermined the desirability of permanent body adornments like tattooing. Nevertheless, those Westerners directly exposed to the tattooing arts of traditional peoples -- for example, sailors -- found the allure of such decorations irresistible. So did many aristocrats including Queen Victoria's grandsons Prince George and Prince Albert and also the future Nicolas II of Russia who all travelled to Japan in order to have themselves tattooed. The ever-growing ranks of the Western middle classes, however, continued to show disdain for tattooing -- vehemently labelling it as 'barbaric' and, worst of all, 'common.' Ghettoized and stigmatized in this way, tattooing in the West became associated with the disreputable, the criminal and the freakish. Certainly in such conditions the odds were stacked against it developing as an art form. Yet despite this the 1960s saw the beginnings of a 'Tattoo Renaissance' which (reflecting a new awareness of and respect for non-Western cultures in general) has forced a new appreciation in the West of the aesthetic possibilities of this form of body decoration. Pioneering American tattooists like Cliff Raven and Ed Hardy had seen at first hand what could be achieved in Japan, Hawaii, Samoa and other traditional centres of tattooing excellence and they brought back to the West a new, enlightened perspective. While Western tattooing had degenerated into a kind of haphazard graffiti with hackneyed hearts, sailing ships and bluebirds placed willy-nilly all over the body, the Japanese and other masters of the art showed how the three-dimensional nature of the body could be utilized rather than ignored -- carefully sculpting their designs around the contours of the body. And because many of this new generation of tattooists had trained as artists they were in a position to get away from simply re-using pre-existing 'flash' designs -- working together with their clients to create the unique and innovative. When famous pop stars like Janis Joplin proudly displayed such tattoos even their middle-class and university-educated fans followed in their footsteps. Suddenly it was cool to have a tattoo. Two other changes in the West -- ironically contradictory -- have underlined this trend. On the one hand the growing conformity of our consumer society has generated a need for individual expression -- a need which can be satisfied by a unique, personal tattoo. On the other hand, our new 'tribalism' (from Hells Angels to Hippies, Punks to Modern Primitives) has brought us full circle back to that world of our most distant ancestors where a tattoo perfectly expresses group commitment and belonging. However, while the West has been re-discovering the art of the Tattoo, it has been disappearing in those traditional societies where it originally flourished. Generations of Western missionaries have unfortunately done their job only too well -- succeeding in most instances in getting native peoples to 'modestly' cover themselves with clothes and to reject ancient forms of body decoration which 'mutilate' that which was created in God's image. Ironically, therefore, it is increasingly in the West, within the context of the 'Tattoo Renaissance,' that Samoan, Hawaiian, Maori, Filipino, Iban, Dyak and other traditional tattoo styles are being preserved and developed. The one part of the world where tattooing has never thrived is Africa. This is of course because heavily pigmented skin doesn't show up traditional tattoo dyes effectively. Instead, Africa has seen the development of the art of scarification -- that is, the creation of patterns on the skin by means of cutting. These may be 'hollow' or 'raised'; the latter achieved by means of rubbing an irritant such as ashes, charcoal or indigo into the wound in order to create a more prominent scar (keloid) or, occasionally, by inserting pebbles or other objects within the wound. Such body decoration may consist of anything from small designs on the face to amazingly complex patterns all over the body. Very often, as with tattooing, such scars are acquired at key, transitional moments of life -- thereby marking out personal development identity. For example, amongst the Nuba of the Sudan a young girl receives her first set of scars (covering the area between navel and breasts) when her breasts first begin to develop. The rest of the torso is covered when she has her first menstruation and the final set (on the back, the back of the legs, arms and neck) is created when her first child is weaned. (The patterns of hundreds of round scars are achieved by using a hooked thorn to raise the skin and a blade to cut off the raised flesh beneath the thorn.) While few Westerners seem to find such decorations attractive, in the eyes of those Africans (or dark-skinned Australian aborigines) raised in traditional cultures where scarification is the norm they are an essential component of beauty -- an attractiveness and erotic enhancement experienced by means of touch as well as sight. Additionally, as amongst the Baule tribe of the Ivory Coast, such scars may be seen as the very mark of civilization -- that which distinguishes between those who do and do not live their lives with dignity and correctness. Unfortunately the art of scarification is fast disappearing, with some African countries actually passing laws to ban it. Even where things have not gone this far most young people -- eager to move to the cities and leave tribal ways behind -- have shunned scarification. And while, as we have seen, traditional tattoo styles have been given a new lease of life within the West, there has, at least to date, been no equivalent 'Scarification Renaissance.' A few adventurous 'Modern Primitives' have experimented with scarification, but many of the resulting designs have been 'primitive' in more ways than one. And so, while traditional tattooing seems set to survive and even thrive, traditional scarification looks set to disappear. In the process, the customized body will become a more purely visual phenomenon, its tactile possibilities lost forever.
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