LET THAT SUCKER BLEED Strathcona’s

Let That Sucker Bleed Strathcona’s Palace Tattoo is the Canadian tattoo museum that you didn’t know existed: it’s reviving the classic tradition in all its glory. by SAMY AZAB

Doc Forbes, Don Nolan, Bert Grimm: most people will go a lifetime without uttering these names. In Strathcona’s Palace Tattoo, however—tucked away on a quiet corner of East Hastings between Gastown and Commercial Drive— those legendary tattoo artists are quietly revered: its walls are papered with hundreds of small, framed sheets of painted tattoo flash*, each with its own scribbled signature from one of the above names. You may even spot a piece by Ed Hardy (yes, that Ed Hardy), who opened his first ever tattoo shop here in east Vancouver.

Muffled punk rock plays at background volume—as it has since the doors first opened in 2014—as tattoo artist Chris Hold furls his brow, head buried in an oversized photo album of flash, sitting behind the low saloon doors and high-topped desk which separate him from the waiting area. “Wasko, you seen that Ritson thing we were looking at the other day? With the funky flames or something?” Hold asks, his voice amplifying as it bounces off the laminated pages of the open book. Fellow artist Nick Wasko seems to draw a blank and brushes off the question, focused on the client’s shoulder he’s inking.

The shop has four stations, one at each corner with a leather rolling chair and black desk. Renowned guest artists come and go from that fourth station, each with a deep respect for the combined 23 years of dedication that Wasko and Hold have put into preserving this all-butlost art form. The third artist, Cole James, is a few years younger and less experienced than the two mentors at his side.

A vintage brass bell ring as the front door swings open, and two friendly young women barge in. “How can I help ya?” James hospitably asks the two women. They ask him for a quote on matching flower tattoos on their hands. James politely explains that nobody in the shop will tattoo their hands or necks unless they have at least enough tattoos to understand the commitment. One of the women asks, “How many tattoos do I have to have?”

“47,” Wasko deadpans, without taking his eyes off his own client’s shoulder.

American tattoo tradition is the result of cultures born in the First and Second World Wars, and prison; tattoos were earned before they were bought through admirable acts or achievements— fully tattooing your chest and back. “You have to suffer through the tough hidden ones to show off the easy ones,” explains Wasko’s tattooed client.

Wasko nods in agreement, and finishes his client’s piece, setting aside his machine. “Let that sucker bleed for a minute.” *Tattoo flash is tradition in American tattooing. Artists paint classic designs onto white canvas, placing them on their shop’s walls for clients to choose from spontaneously. n

Nick Wasko (right) with former Palace Tattoo Shop artist Jessy Albert.