Interview with Marcus Tinh Pham

Born in Vancouver, specifically East Vancouver. Grew up here my whole life — school, work, everything. My mentor’s shop was just two blocks down the road at Strictly. Then I opened this one up about three years ago. Still in East Van. Born and raised, man.

This area was a lot different before. Pretty rough. You’d have to be a little more rough around the edges to do your thing out here. Worried about someone taking your shoes or your hoodie, just something stupid. A lot of small fights, but nothing too extreme. That was East Vancouver for you. Totally different situation now. But growing up like that — it gave me the right mentality to make it through a traditional apprenticeship.

My family’s Vietnamese. My mom’s side is part Chinese, part Vietnamese, and my dad’s side is full Vietnamese. I’m first born here.

The Hori in my name comes from traditional Japanese tattoo culture. Hori basically means “to carve” and it’s a prefix a lot of artists in irezumi carry in their name.

My mentor entrusted me with the name Horiryu and the II just means I’m the second artist in that lineage to carry it. For me it represents more than just the style of tattooing. It reflects the discipline, respect for the tradition, and everything he took the time to pass down to me.

Honestly bro that’s also why it can be a little irritating when you see someone just doing “Japanese style” tattoos and giving themselves a Hori name. Traditionally it’s not really something you give yourself. It’s something that comes from your mentor and the lineage you come from. So for me the name is really about honoring that relationship and the tradition behind the work man.

I was a bad kid before. Got kicked out of school at one point, got into a lot of fights. For the sake of the interview, we’ll just say I wasn’t on the right path. I come from a really poor family — welfare family, a lot of mental health issues, a lot of drug issues.

When I started tattooing, my life flipped around in like one or two years. I went from living in my friend’s basement, struggling to give him a couple hundred bucks for rent, to getting my own car, my own place, not looking at the price of groceries. Went from super unstable to six figures a year. It was mind blowing. And it only went up from there, thank God.

I don’t think a lot of artists are gonna be able to do that nowadays, especially with how many artists there are and the state of Canada’s economy. But that was my experience.

Yeah, from day one. It’s all I’ve ever done. Once I got into the history and the imagery and the meaning behind everything, I was hooked, man.

One hundred percent. In traditional Japanese, we keep everything super big and bold, a lot more simple, so it looks similar as it ages. We’re not thinking about 10 years from now, we’re thinking about when you’re 50, 60, 70, 80. What the tattoo is gonna look like then.

But a lot of new things are coming out — equipment, ink, everything’s improving. Everyone said fine lines won’t look good in two or three years, but we’re starting to see stuff look really good even five or six years down the road. It’s a mix of ink quality and machines.

You’re gonna have to apprentice under someone professionally. Otherwise you just build bad habits. That’s like me trying to learn martial arts off YouTube. There’s just no way. When I make that comparison, people are like, “Oh, that’s so obvious.” But when it comes to tattooing, people get mad and go, “Oh, you’re gatekeepers.” Realistically, it’s not that. I’ve been in the industry for a decade — I don’t wanna teach anyone. It’s time out of my day, man.

I custom draw everything. My client comes in, shows me pictures, gives me info so I can get an idea of what they like. If it’s something simple like a koi fish, I can think of that in my head immediately. But when it comes to something like a samurai, we don’t just tattoo a generic samurai. There’s specific samurais with names, family crests, all this history behind them. So I have to go home and pull up a book.

I give myself about a week now. Rough sketch on day one, get into the solid shapes mid-week, finish up the design a night or two before the appointment. And I only show it to them the day of. They don’t get a picture beforehand.

It’s a lot to ask for. It’s almost the equivalent trust of your barber, but with the consequences being permanent.

Everyone says, why don’t you send the design? Dude, if I send my design to someone, they can grab that thing and run to the next tattoo artist or their cousin in the basement. “I’ll do it for 20 bucks an hour.” Then they show it to all their friends and family, and everyone becomes a tattoo expert. It’s like bringing the whole family into the kitchen to watch the chef cook. “Oh bro, I don’t know about that — probably needs more salt.” We have to be in our own space.

Every single client gets a consultation beforehand. I have to vet them and make sure they know what they’re getting into — the time commitment, the financial commitment. It hurts if I start a piece and the client can’t finish because of finances.

One hundred percent. And conventions too. I hate conventions now. I sound like an old head, but I’m 28, dude. Before, I’d walk into a convention, do 10, 20, 30 small pieces. A hundred bucks each, you got your experience, you met other artists. Now they’re not as busy. People are just on their phones. Plus you’re sitting on a folding chair from 12 to 12, your back hurts, and the booth is like $1,500. I’d rather spend that running ads.

Even the Instagram game is changing. My page used to perform five times better organically than it does now with paid ads. You used to get away with a static post. Now you need reels, targeted ads, pixels, analytics. What’s converting, what’s not. It’s crazy. I would say 99% of artists don’t understand that side yet.

As a creative, you’re already worried your work isn’t good enough. Now you also have to change gears, wear a different hat, and become a full-on social media marketer. But I don’t mind because it’s causing guys to have to learn another part of the game.

I’m working alone right now, but I’m looking for the right artist to come work with me. It has to be someone very similar to how I operate. I spent seven years seeing how crazy some creatives can be — great artists, but horrible business people. Show up an hour late and that’s their normal. I’m not OK with that. That’s my reputation.

AI will take over every industry in some type of way, and that includes tattooing. You’re not gonna have an AI robot tattoo people. It’ll just completely remove the creative side, which will drive down our market. If I can go on today and ask Gemini to change a tattoo design and make it custom — people can get away with some really sneaky shit now. I’m nervous to see what happens in the next five to ten years.

So my plan is still operate how I’m operating, but also plan for the possible exit of tattooing if it comes to that. Hopefully I’ll still be able to make my own original art, do my thing, tattoo, but without the financial pressure.

It won’t matter for any style. Think about the consumers that are 10 years old right now. They’ll be 20, wanting tattoos in 10 years. They’re not gonna give a shit about AI. That’s what they grew up with. That’s a hard truth no one wants to hear, but that’s what’s gonna happen. Can’t stop it, man.

I’ve never really thought about that because realistically, when I die, no one’s gonna give a shit. I’ll probably end up in some random data centre and no one’s gonna ever open that file. But tattoo-wise, I would hope I’ve made my impact on how the industry is changing. When it comes to AI and everything that’s coming, I’d hope to help with that adjustment and keep the tattoo industry thriving.