Industrial Inking

A local tattoo artist practices his craft in an old Ngau Tau Kok factory building.

Tattoo artist Lam Lung works in the dark. No, his craft isn’t illegal. Lam created this space to be conducive to his work—to create intricate patterns on the skin of his clients. But his studio, a 400-square-foot space in an industrial building in Ngau Tau Kok, is definitely a place of darkness, secrecy and mysteriousness.

At 308 Tattoo Workshop, the walls catch the eye first: they are gray, with dark ink splashed on top in another layer. Above his working table, a few Chinese words are painted in red. “The words were written with reference to those propaganda slogans on the walls on the mainland. It means breakthrough, and your brain should be armed,” says the engimatic Lam, who is surprisingly bashful and talks in a low voice.

Lam’s workshop is also adorned with exotic art pieces. It is a curious mix—some of them are sculptures purchased in Sichuan province, some are flags from Tibet and some are simple drawings of the Buddha. Even though the art pieces are just replicas, they are Lam’s prized possessions because they offer inspiration for his work. Among all art pieces, the Mexican ones are Lam’s favorites. They remind him of his network of fellow tattooists around the world.

“Some of them are sent by my friends in Mexico,” Lam says. “It is very easy to make friends from overseas within the tattoo community, as many tattoo artists take pictures of their works [and put them] online.”

Lam worked as a cook for four years, but he disliked the job; he doesn’t think that it would get him anywhere. He quit and went to Xiamen to learn the craft of tattoo artistry. After studying for six months, he returned to Hong Kong.