words DOUG GEYER  |  portrait photography DEOGRACIAS LERMA

Part One: Kore Flatmo

Talking with Kore Flatmo is like falling into a rabbit hole where the history of tattooing comes alive like an animated Wikipedia page. Over the last thirty years, he has seen what started as a trade populated with craftsmen who never would have seen themselves as creatives migrate into a space where artists and artistry abound. His self-effacing spirit and soft-spoken tone mute his hulking physical presence. His work is stunning.

Born in Pasadena and raised in the San Gabriel Valley, Flatmo was the guy who drew for all his friends. From early childhood, he found in his elaborate drawings a soothing escape from a dysfunctional family life. He moved to Hollywood near the end of 1989, just shy of his twentieth birthday.

“That’s the place you go to take your first journey, to take the first step on your journey. Twenty minutes away, but a world away. I was in way over my head.”

He backed into his chosen craft by chance.

“You never see tattooing coming. Never see it coming. I got a job on the boulevard at a tourist store where they did airbrushing up front, stuff for tourists in the middle, and tattooing in the back. My first tattoos were paint-on tattoos. Little stickers and paintbrushes.”

Since that initial step, Flatmo has traveled extensively, visited hundreds of shops, and studied in Japan. Eschewing flash and fame, he’s quietly built an international reputation and a growing family of loyal clients who fly in from around the globe. While he takes care of local clients with smaller tattoo ideas and budgets, Flatmo specializes in large-format tattoos in the black and gray as well as traditional, Japanese styles. He and his wife Brenda, an accomplished artist with over two decades of experience, opened their by-appointment studio Plurabella in 1999. Blue Rock Tattoo in Northside is their latest venture where they, with fellow artists Mason Williams and Sarah Hopper, offer a wide variety of styles. They share a deep conviction about their clients having a very realistic understanding of how long a piece might take to achieve what they’re looking for. It’s a real collaboration that involves embracing the entire undertaking. For Flatmo, it all comes together at a personal and professional crossroads.

“Process is everything now. For me, I’ve never felt so good about my process. I’ve been through hills and valleys in my career. I spent these periods being results-oriented and very into the society of tattooing–and that just gave me problems. I kinda shook all that off, burned everything down seven to eight years ago and sort of reinvented the whole thing. I truly enjoy the work and the results take care of themselves. It’s an amazing time for me.”

While the increasing popularity and visibility of tattooing has brought with it a fair share of unrealistic reality shows and expectations, Flatmo and his team stay grounded in the essentials.

“My grandfather gave me good advice when he told me, ‘Never seek originality. You’ll at best come up with novelty. Just take your turn at the ideas and be sincere. Your truth will come out and people will be attracted to what you do.”

While his roots are wrapped around traditional tools and techniques, Flatmo has happily embraced innovations as they’ve emerged. “I luxuriate in the equipment of today. In fact, I use a machine that’s shaped like a pen. I never thought that was going to be possible.”

Great tattooists must consider not only the technical and artistic elements of the piece but also the placement and the condition of their client’s skin. “In a nutshell, you want to imbed the most amount of pigment with the least amount of trauma.”

While he’s enjoyed many forms of art and seen his work celebrated in film and on Gibson guitars, he’s now focused exclusively on tattooing. He embraces the pure and profound commitment the work demands.

“It’s the least mediated form of art. It’s one human putting hands on another and working in this medium. In that sense, it’s wonderful. It’s intimate. It’s corporeal. In a world increasingly atomized with people interacting through screens, I feel really fortunate. Really fortunate.”