The repetitive whirr starting and stopping, however, becomes barely noticeable once inside the wildly colorful and meticulously clean storefront property on Jefferson Avenue.

Meanwhile, lying face down on a padded table nearby, almost dozing, is Cameron Vegh, 21, who recently graduated with a bachelor’s degree in information systems from UC’s Carl H. Lindner College of Business. His tattooist, Zach Ashland, is crafting a dark knight’s helmet just below Vegh’s right elbow. The new tattoo is a graduation present to himself, says Vegh. 

Both graduates from UC’s College of Design, Architecture, Art, and Planning (DAAP) — Carter in 2003 and Dasha in 2005 — are quick to admit that tattooing for a living wasn’t the plan when they met at UC and married in 2005. 

They were trained in the traditional fine arts — the paint and paintbrush kind — and had regular showings around town. Dasha also had a job as a waitress in a nearby neighborhood. Often, after work, she would pop across the street into Tattoo Designs by Dana and get a tattoo. It was there, she says, that she found inspiration to change course completely, and the couple decided to pursue tattooing together as an occupation.  

“With our art background we thought we would be naturals at it,” Dasha recalls, but learning the craft, she says, was “a humbling experience.”

In addition to the technical aspects of creating art on living skin, tattoo artists are required to complete an apprenticeship — averaging one to two years and estimated to cost upwards of $10,000 — to obtain a state license to practice.

Learning which tattoo machine to use, what ink color to choose and how to ensure the skin heals correctly requires more than an academic education, says Dana Brunson, a DAAP alum and owner of Designs by Dana, Cincinnati’s oldest tattoo studio. The Gilliss’ apprenticed under Brunson’s son, tattoo artist Jason Brunson, and continued to work there for 14 years.

“I am very selective about who I pass the craft/art onto in my shop,” Brunson says, “but if you are already an artist on top of it, that gives you a leg up.”

As a graduate of DAAP’s School of Fine Arts himself, Dana Brunson (MFA ’80) certainly knows how to successfully translate an arts education into a profession. He managed to carve out a 52-year career in tattooing as an owner/operator.

For Brunson, tattooing started in 1971. He was fresh out of the Army, where he first observed with amazement a fellow soldier getting a tattoo. He decided to give tattooing a go himself — out of a home studio in Indiana —while also attending the John Herron School of Art in Indianapolis, Indiana, where he earned a bachelor’s of fine art degree. He later enrolled at UC, majoring in sculpture.

The career experiences of tattooist Ryonen Ignatius, a UC fine arts graduate (DAAP ’01), fall in the timeline between Brunson’s and the Gillisses'.

Ignatius has 23 years of experience, the past two of which she’s worked at Designs by Dana.

Ignatius jokes that she was “fast-tracked” in 1999, when she worked part time at a tattoo studio her senior year at UC. She finished an apprenticeship in five months, she says, because tattoo artists were scarce, and demand was high. That’s because body art was now more visible on rock stars and celebrities — think Pamela Anderson and her barbed wire cuff (that she’s since had removed).

Ignatius — like most successful tattoo artists — can tattoo almost anything, but she specializes in Japanese art and portraiture. Her early clientele also included motorcyclists, she says, but they were of the clean-cut variety, “police and firemen.” Soon after, she says, the clientele expanded again to “college kids and doctors with closet tattoos.”

The artwork itself has also undergone transitions.

During and after World War I and World War II, for example, Brunson says that images were pretty standard (e.g.., Victorian ladies, dragons and tigers) because there were so few tattoo artists and they kept their designs “close to the vest,”  whereas the last decade introduced more tattooists and more requests for custom work such as portraits, a loved one’s favorite saying (copied in their own handwriting) or in the case of Nick Hyde, a favorite pet.   

While vintage tattoos are very popular today, the craft didn’t really go mainstream until the mid-2000s with the popularity of reality shows such as “Inked” and “Ink Masters.” The public now had a behind-the-scenes look at tattoo culture, and viewers were “all in.”

“They would line up and you would tattoo whatever they picked off the wall,” says Ignatius. Brunson’s studio, for example, is widely touted as having one the largest collections of 1900-50s “flash” — prepared tattoo art often displayed on the studio walls — in the world.

Patrons today, however, are more apt to see a tattoo on Instagram — which could be considered the tech version of flash. Instead of perusing the walls, they peruse the internet for inspiration.

But you can’t just magically imprint a cell phone photo on the skin like a fake tattoo. The tattooist must still draft a rendition of the photo and use transfer paper to place an outline on the skin to work from.

“You have to be able to draw well,” says Brunson.

“I think becoming a tattoo artist is one of the bravest and gutsiest forms of art practice that anyone can undertake,” says Jenny Ustick, a professor of fine arts at DAAP and a nationally renowned muralist.

The legal age to get a tattoo in Ohio without a guardian’s permission is 18. While in theory a customer can request any design and placement, tattooists have individual boundaries. Many won’t tattoo the face or hands, especially if the client is young.  

“Tattoos might be mainstream, but face tattoos are a ‘job-stopper,’” says Brunson.

Ignatius says she’s lost count of how many people she’s tried to talk out of getting their significant other's name tattooed on their body. “I think I convinced one person,” she laments, and the failures invariably return for a cover-up tattoo (converting the original to a new tattoo).   

And yes, they can hurt.

“Tattoos can be painful depending on the spot,” Ashland relays as he continues to work on the dark knight’s faceplate, which doesn’t appear to faze Cameron Vegh in the least.

It’s far more painful — and expensive — to have tattoos removed, though, all say, which can only be done by a medical professional.

Trepidation aside, as the tattoo machines in Peregrine continue to buzz, the door opens once again. A gray-haired couple walks in and are greeted by Carter Gilliss.

They want to know if they are too old to get tattoos. “There is no age limit,” he tells them and proceeds to explain the process.  

Featured image at top: Dasha Gilliss, at Peregrine Tattoo studio in Clifton, tattooing the arm of client Nick Hyde. Photo/Andrew Higley/UC Marketing + Brand. 

Photos: Andrew Higley, unless otherwise noted
Digital design: Kerry Overstake
UC Marketing + Communications