What is art? Where does the artist’s vision end and the viewer’s perception begin? And is there even a right answer to the question of what exactly the artist was trying to say?
I have always been drawn to art that leaves room for your own thoughts, feelings, and associations. You look at a work and recognize every object and every detail, yet you do not immediately understand what is happening before you. Inevitably, you begin searching for your own meaning.
That is exactly how St. Petersburg tattoo artist Boris Brioche approaches his work. His minimalist black-and-red compositions place familiar objects in completely unexpected situations. Boris describes each of his designs as a contradiction and every tattoo as a manifesto.
We spoke with Boris about how these images are born, what lies beneath their apparent simplicity, and why even he does not always know where his next idea will lead.
«I’m that client who decided he could do it too»
– Boris, let’s begin with your story. How did you get into tattooing, and where did it all start?
– Everything is so interconnected and intertwined that it is hardly surprising that I ended up where I did by the age of 32.
At 19, I moved from Moscow to St. Petersburg and transferred to another university. For some reason, that surprises a lot of people, but they simply do not understand. The reason was as ordinary as it is for most young men: romance–or, in truth, an attempt to change my surroundings. But the romance quickly ended, and I stayed.
My studies did not work out either. I had not decided what I wanted to become. I was studying engineering because I considered myself mathematically minded and rational. But alas.
For three years, I swung from one extreme to another–from trying to get married to working at a nightclub. I kept myself entertained as best I could until I finally grew tired of it all in 2018. My frontal lobes were beginning to develop, which meant it was time to find my place in life.
For me, this meant freedom: freedom from former authority figures, conventions, and the obligation to live up to other people’s expectations. How could someone just out of puberty achieve that? By getting tattoos, of course.
By then, I already had tattoos by artists who are now making a name for themselves abroad–shout-out to Vitaly Morozov, circa 2015. So how did I get into tattooing?
The answer is quite simple: I’m that client who decided he could do it too.
I was lucky enough to immediately meet a tattoo artist whose views on creativity and tattooing differed from the norm. That made a huge impression on me–we talked a lot, discussed art, and created things together.
Then, in 2019, I bought my own equipment. I did my first tattoo and became disillusioned with everything–especially myself. I abandoned the idea for a year, until COVID arrived.
I was invited to open a “secret” studio with someone during lockdown, and that was where I began to become the person I am today. Considering that I had never drawn before, it was quite a challenge–but what is life without challenges?
My entire art education consists of the book “How to Learn to Draw in 30 Days.” I recommend it to absolutely everyone. I “completed” it during the first 10 days of lockdown. One simple principle helps me keep growing and developing my skills: “There is no limit to perfection–you should always be better than you were yesterday.”
Object-Based Abstraction and Familiar Things in Unfamiliar Circumstances
– Your work is difficult to place within any conventional genre. How do you define your style, and how did it develop?
– I try not to confine myself within rigid boundaries or conventions so that I can preserve my creative freedom. I leave it to the viewer to categorize my work.
The guiding principle behind my work is: “I understand everything I see, but I have no idea what is happening.”
I suppose you could call it object-based abstraction–or simply graphic art, whichever you prefer. I just enjoy creating something new from the familiar things that surround us all.
The visual techniques and the complexity of both the designs and the tattoos themselves have changed, but that is simply the natural development of my skills.
The basic principles have never changed–I have always wanted to achieve a sense of hyperrealism in my work, erasing the boundary between an image and reality. I think this only heightens the emotional impact of what you see.
– What inspires you? Are there any artists, films, books, or other sources that have had a particular influence on your work?
– If I may, I would replace “inspiration” with “input.” Inspiration is a rather treacherous thing. It acts as a kind of catalyst for creativity. But does that mean there can be no creativity unless something triggers an emotional response?
I believe inspiration, like motivation, is a rather abstract concept that only slows down the process. You just have to get on with it–that is the whole secret. The only people who inspire me are fellow artists who refuse to give up on what they do. And my bicycle.
My work is an expression of who I am. I feel completely at home in it because I am made up of utterly contradictory views and interests.
I can work while listening to dark ambient or while binge-watching “Kadetstvo.”
I love all kinds of things–far too many to list. It would be strange to create the image of someone who only consumes high art and spends all their time contemplating eternity. I am an ordinary person with a wide range of interests.
In fact, my favorite TV series is “Streets of Broken Lights,” and one of my favorite pastimes is getting lost on Wikipedia, endlessly following hyperlinks. The main thing is to learn something new and, ideally, interesting. I see no contradiction in that.
I am interested in all sorts of things, and I do not particularly like dividing culture into high and low.
Creative input does not necessarily come from something conventionally regarded as art. Sometimes a random scene from a film, an everyday observation, or some absurd situation affects you more deeply than a work widely considered great. I think what matters is not so much what you are looking at, but what you are capable of seeing in it.
But I cannot say that I deliberately sit down and search for this input. Everything I watch, read, listen to, and experience stays with me in one way or another. I cannot always trace exactly how it later emerges in my work.
How Designs Take Shape
– In your work, ordinary objects appear in the most unexpected combinations. Tell us how these ideas arise and what meaning you put into them.
– It usually begins with an image or a combination of objects that I find interesting. It might pop into my head, come from something I overhear in a crowd, or emerge from something I see on the street or in an ordinary TV series. Life itself provides me with ideas.
I like bringing together things that have no connection in everyday life, disrupting the familiar logic of how they interact. The result is a strange situation in which familiar objects begin to be perceived differently.
One idea came to me while I was playing a game in which the main character was asked, “What frightens you more: rats or syringes?” I thought about it and realized that both frightened me equally. That is how I came up with a piece that you can find in my portfolio.
I do not always fully understand when I am genuinely exploring something and when I am simply drawing a beautiful image. Sometimes the meaning only emerges once the design is finished.
One thing never changes: I visualize what I feel. And everything I have seen and read helps me find unconventional solutions.
Many of my designs explore the inevitability of leaving childhood behind. That is how designs such as “King of the Hill of Childhood Memories” come about. This design has it all: a children’s game, the aesthetic of garbage bins, and an attempt to create something beautiful from an old tire, which also references the era in which I grew up.
I cannot always explain why a particular image resonates with me. Sometimes I simply sense that there is something in it and begin working with it. I do not need to know in advance exactly what I want the piece to say. Instead, I use images to make sense of my own feelings.
At the same time, I am very interested in how other people perceive my work. When someone chooses a design and tells me what they see in it, that adds a new layer of meaning to the image. Sometimes their interpretation reveals something I had never considered myself. The piece continues to unfold beyond the limits of my own perception.
Lately, I have become increasingly interested in creating entire scenarios rather than simply unusual combinations of objects. I want an image not only to surprise viewers but also to leave room for their own associations and reflections.
For example, a piece that symbolized preserving memories to me represented order to someone else. And that turns everything on its head.
“Every design is a contradiction; every tattoo is a manifesto”
– You wrote on Telegram that, for you, tattooing is a way to make sense of reality and that every design is a contradiction. Tell us about your philosophy and the role creativity plays in your life.
– Yes, that makes me sound like a rebel or as though my goal is to challenge public opinion. But that is not the case.
For me, creativity is an answer to the question, “Why?”
Why is something absurd to one person but blissful to another? Why do we perceive the same things so differently? Where does this difference come from, and how closely does our perception correspond to what exists beyond it?
Why is modern society drowning in emotional, spiritual, and moral comfort? I am interested in human nature, our inner contradictions, and how we perceive the world around us and ourselves.
At the same time, I do not separate exploring the world from exploring myself. As I try to understand my own feelings, I also learn something about other people. And when someone looks at my work and tells me what they see in it, I may discover something I had never considered before.
That is probably why I say that every design I create is a contradiction and every tattoo is a manifesto.
I’m interested in disrupting the familiar logic of things, changing the relationships between objects, and placing them in unusual situations. I take something familiar and change the context, creating an image that can be perceived in a completely different way.
I like exploring this shift: how our attitude toward something changes when the circumstances or connections between familiar things change. I suppose the main message I want to convey to the viewer is: “Think–and don’t devalue anything.”
Don’t diminish your own value in this world. Search for yourself and your talent; think about yourself, life, and other people. Don’t let familiar conventions distort your personal idea of happiness and impose an ugly version of happiness on you. Don’t live your life out of an IKEA catalog, don’t become canned laughter, and don’t look to YouTube for your own opinions.
No one knows what is right or who has life figured out. Think of this as my way of engaging with the public–or perhaps I’m simply a fool who doesn’t know how to live. Choose whichever version you prefer.
I prefer the version where I run around the city like a local madman–or like a character in a DiCaprio film–shouting, “Come to your senses!” I understand that I won’t find any answers. It’s like “The Myth of Sisyphus” or the search for the meaning of life: the whole point lies in the process itself.
New answers give rise to new questions, expanding the space in which I struggle against emptiness.
I have felt completely free at every point in my life because it isn’t constraints that frighten me, but being unable to fill the echoing void.
Black, red, and the shades in between
– Why did you choose red and black specifically? Have you always worked with this palette, and how has it changed over time?
– Yes, after just a couple of experimental tattoos, I committed to this palette. It began with two colors, but each year I added more and more shades. Just as in life, everything has shades and nuances.
Black expanded into a gradient from the deepest black to pure white, while red came to range from pink to the color of dried blood.
There are now around 12 ink caps on my workstation.
I always try to choose shades according to the role they play in a piece: my black and gray are always warm, showing that darkness is alive too. And the red is always different, just like the emotions it conveys.
As with everything that interests me, I immerse myself completely in studying the subject. That’s why my work will always feature new approaches, whether to achieve the desired result or further develop my visual skills.
“Choose my perspective, not just my hands”
– How do you work with clients? Do people usually choose your existing designs, or do they come to you with their own ideas?
– As it happens, 90% of my work is based on my own designs. The barrier to entry is high, so people go through a certain intellectual journey before booking a session. That makes me incredibly happy, even though it greatly narrows my pool of potential clients. But it’s a deliberate step and a risk I’m willing to take.
Because I also need to receive something from the person, not merely provide a service.
But if someone wants a custom piece from me, I’m always happy to take it on. I have a note for such cases, and its message is: choose my perspective, not just my hands.
This really helps speed up the process and establish mutual understanding. If someone entrusts their idea to me, the result comes together almost immediately.
But I never impose my point of view. I write something like an accompanying letter for every tattoo design.
From Tattooing to Filmmaking
– You mentioned that you used to try writing books and would like to make films in the future. Tell us more about that. Why filmmaking, and how does it relate to your current work?
– Yes, as a child, I made many attempts to write something. For some reason, I forgot all about it and actively tried to convince others–and myself–that I had no creative side. They were rather naive stories, even funny ones. For example, I wrote what would now be called Harry Potter fan fiction, in which he prayed in a Moscow church.
Then came a period when I was focused on getting my life in order, with no room for creativity apart from a few attempts at creating paintings.
But filmmaking draws me in almost magically. It gives you the opportunity to combine everything brewing inside you and share it with a large audience in just a few hours, using emotion, music, and visuals. There are so many means of expression within a single work!
But right now, tattooing takes up all my time. There is a reason for that.
For me, tattooing is a form of training. It means working with an idea, visualizing it, and deciding on its placement. It is a way to explore myself and develop my signature style. I do not like rushing into a project; I need to refine everything as thoroughly as possible. Simply put, tattooing teaches me to fit substantial content into a limited form.
I understand that this may sound like an excuse for inaction, but I need to go through this personal ordeal on my own in order to create something truly worthwhile. I do not like rushing into things; I like creating with an intensity that borders on obsession.
– How do you envision your creative future today? Has your attitude toward tattooing and its place in your life changed?
– It is difficult to discuss my future when I have not yet fully figured out the present. I never expected to end up in a creative field at all, so I do not want to make any predictions.
Perhaps my desire to escape will eventually take over, and I will move to the Leningrad Region to fish and enjoy each day, blissfully unaware of everything else.
I have never viewed tattooing as something magical because I remain a rational person. To me, it is a craft in which I must hone my skills day after day.
No leniency toward myself or my work.
In general, tattooing is an endless race with three places on the podium, and technique, visual literacy, and personal depth are all competing for first place.
Where to Find Boris Brioche
– Where are you working now? How packed is your schedule, and what is the best way to contact you?
– Moscow and Saint Petersburg are the two cities where I work regularly. But I would really like to organize a tour across Russia and then travel abroad. I do not know what is stopping me.
I do not particularly like working alone, so I am always looking for new studios where everyone will make me feel talentless. Those are the only places where you can truly learn something. My schedule is not too packed because creating designs takes a great deal of time. I spend most of the month drawing rather than tattooing.
So look for me everywhere, all the time–who knows where I will be tomorrow.
Boris Brioche:
Telegram: t.me/borisbrioche
Instagram: @brioche.ttt
