A NEEDLE IN A HAYSTACK:
Tattooing's Forgotten History
24th March 2017
Tattooing is a practice that stands the test of time, and its roots go further than skin deep. Here in Kingston, there is a strong tattooing history that is almost forgotten, hiding away behind museum doors in niche temporary exhibitions.
I was having coffee with an old friend just outside of Kingston’s local Pret, and he was telling me how his roommate was getting her first tattoo. It was going to be a dolphin on her left wrist. Either way, my friend Jack just sighed, told me it was just some random decision she made a couple of weeks prior.
“She’ll probably regret it.” He said. “I mean, tattoos are becoming a symbol of bad decisions, forgetting their roots as whatever their roots were.”
This statement got to me. Are we forgetting it all? Maybe Jack was just exaggerating, he tends to do that. Of course, we can't suppose everyone who waltzes into a tattoo parlour is looking to brand themselves with a tribal motif honouring their late ancestry, but is it really wise to stamp yourself with a bad decision? Undoubtedly, dolphins are adorable, but do we really need a sea of meaningless dolphin tattoos flooding the streets of Kingston?
Kingston is a place rich in tattooing history, but we wouldn’t know it. Being a relatively new resident to this town I wanted to learn as much as possible, and in doing so I discovered Sutherland Macdonald, after getting in touch with Essex University lecturer Matt Lodder.
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“His tattoos are simply mind-blowing to modern eyes,” He states. “I’ve shown them to contemporary tattooers and they can’t quite believe that this kind of work was even possible in 1895.”
Sutherland’s work was something to definitely be remembered. Born in Leeds in 1860, Sutherland Macdonald lived in Surbiton with his family but would commute to central London to work, and was the first tattooist ever to be listed in the London post office.
He paved the way for modern tattooists through beautiful Chinese watercolour pieces, back-pieces imitating French salon paintings, as well as incredibly photo-realistic works that astound historians to this day. He was even said to coin the term tattooist to differentiate himself from what he believed to be a ‘work-a-day’ title of tattooer, as it sounded
too much like laborious titles such as ‘plumber’ or ‘bricklayer’.
Matt researched into this elusive artist over a period of weeks, uncovering a cache of about a dozen images which Macdonald had logged in copyright registers, plus abusiness card of his, all in effort to learn as much about his carreer as possible. In addition, he was very fortunate to come across a selection of rare surviving photographs of his work which he tells me Sutherland had sent to customers in the USA.
“These are on display in my current exhibition in Falmouth, Cornwall. I have also built an extensive library of media clippings on him from all around the world.” Matt states proudly.
His clientele primarily consisted of visitors to the baths he managed, who desired the beautiful finely-rendered style of japanese tattooing on their bodies.
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“Tattoos had become popular on travellers returning from Japan over the previous decade or so (Japan had been closed to the West until 1868, after which Japanese art of all kinds flooded Europe and changed European tastes), and there was suddenly a market back home.” Matt goes on to tell me.
It felt surprising that so few individuals had heard of Macdonald’s name and legacy in Kingston, with only the ‘ink in Kingston’ exhibit shining a weak light into his work, and Matt tells me that this isn’t a great surprise.
“Mac's legacy had been diminished even by his own family” He says. “His death certificate rendered his profession as ‘Water Colour Artist’, and later records had him listed as ‘baths manager, deceased’.”
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Matt is aiming to get a historic plaque for Macdonald’s house in Surbiton to honor his real identity, as he believes such important history should no longer
go unnoticed. “I've been really proud to tell his story properly and carefully, and to reveal these untold histories.” He says.
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Despite this, Matt would not classify the tattooing profession as an art form. Instead, he sees it as something beyond a tool of expression.
“What I'm interested in instead is simply what happens if we think about tattooing as an art form; that is to say, what if we use the same analytical methodologies which we use for paintings, sculptures, drawings and photographs and we apply them to the object set that is tattooing? What seems to happen is that under that light, tattooing becomes a medium, not a phenomenon.”
Not a lot of analysis has gone into tattooing in the same way a piece of art, and that could be partially responsible for its history being overshadowed. It is important we learn to classify tattoo artistry as a window into history or people may just continue to get meaningless decorative pieces because they don’t know enough to inform their decisions.
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