Talking About Tattoos with Arbel Nagar

From navigating the waters of being so young stacked up against people who are twice her age, Arbel shows that natural talent can get you to anywhere you want to be. Through a gracious humility, she brings us into her world of tattooing and gives us insight as to how she got to where she is today.

Continue reading for an exclusive interview below.

What have you been up to lately? How are you doing today?

I'm good. Yeah, just working a lot. I just got a place, I bought a house. So I'm working extra every day to manage everything until I move in.

Oh, that's awesome. Congrats. I know one of my friends just got a house, and she put in so much work. But how did you get started tattooing?

I was homeschooled from my sophomore year of high school because I was just super into art and I was not really taking school as seriously at that point. So I just thought it would be more practical to spend less time in school and just focus on drawing and stuff. Back then I was intending to go to art school, hoping for RISD. I obviously wasn't working or anything or making any money, I was just drawing and stuff. And my mom was just like, "You know, you should try tattooing. Just make some money on the side while you're making this art shit happen, you know." So she kind of helped me find some apprenticeship to kind of get that going. And then it ended up just completely taking over and I didn't even go to art school. Wasn't really the plan initially.

I feel like the best things you can't really plan. But since you started so young, and you are obviously apprenticing in other shops, what were the other artists' respect levels like?

Well, the shop that I did my apprenticeship at, they were always taking apprentices. There were probably like 10 other apprentices at the shop at that time. They were all older than me. I was like 15, or 16, and they were all like in their 30s or something. But yeah, there were so many I don't even think they really looked twice at my stuff or anything like that. They didn't really even once I got my license to actually tattoo because I was also underage. So I had to have an extra-long apprenticeship because you can't tattoo till you're 18. So I was working and cleaning the shop and shit, but the second I got my license, I was trying to do pieces and my friends were trying to come to me for stuff. But once you just start out you have to start with really small stuff, you know, and they wouldn't let me experiment or even push my boundaries. So I ended up getting a job in a different shop on Melrose. But they didn't really focus on me at all because I was like 18, or 19, I had no tattoos, and I was a little girl. And they're all big ass dudes, you know what I mean? It's like the OG ass tattoo artists and stuff like that. So they would always just clown me and stuff.

But then they would see your work and then you would just be like, "Okay, my work speaks for itself."

I wasn't really that good at the time, but I mean I had good drawings, I was really good at drawing. But they never saw my drawings and I'm not the type that's trying to show people you know what I mean? The reason I got the job there is because I showed the guy that knew the owner my drawings. My whole first or second year I was only doing like fine-line stuff, you know that trendy type of stuff like that. So they kind of were just like, this stuff isn't even real tattoos. You know what I mean? Like, yeah, that's kind of how they thought of it. I don't even know if they know how I'm doing now. I'd be surprised if they did.

What would you do if one of them came knocking on your door right here?

I'd be stoked. I'd be like "That's sick that you actually care." But, I doubt it. Like, especially ones that I worked with at the shops, the OG ones. I feel like it's a newer thing in tattooing when everyone's super supportive of each other. On Instagram, everyone's backing each other up, but usually, it's really competitive. In the old scene of tattooing, you don't try to take your other artists' clients in the shop, but nowadays it's different. Everyone goes to every artist, you know what I mean? Back in the day, you go to the same guy, like you don't cheat on your artists. So it's like, you don't really pay as much respect.

For my tattoos, all of them, except for I think, like one, or two are done by the same girl. It was just something in me where I felt like if I got something from somewhere else, and I walked in, she would be like, "Oh, where'd you get that one?"

Yeah, which is fair, but all my tattoos are from different artists. I think it's nice. It's like a collection.

When you see a tattoo of yours, you go, "Oh shit, that's an Arbel tattoo." You can distinguish your pieces right off the bat. Talk to us about your design process and how you started to do your design work now that everyone sees.

I feel like I definitely try to keep it all kind of looking more old school. That's like the main thing that I fuck with. Especially if there's clothing involved, or even as far as the way the shadows work, I try to make it almost look like film photos, because there's more contrast in them. I feel like most of the time I really am open to different shit. Like my chrome looks nothing like my vintage. I have different little things that I experiment with and I just try to keep it basic with rules of realism in mind when I do my designs.

Is there a first standout tattoo where it was kind of similar to what you're doing now?

There's this artist that works in the skateboarding industry that does super cool pointillism, but he does a lot of vintage photography, goofy stuff, and just sick artwork, to where he doesn't take it so seriously, but it looks really cool. The designs aren't so serious, but they're just cool art and I feel like I really liked the stuff that he was making. And I tried to incorporate that to where it's not something like roses and stopwatches and stuff like that, but just sick photos.

Would you say your more playful stuff, like the headless guy, stuff like that, is coming straight coming from you? Or would you say it's a kind of a collaboration between you and who you're tattooing?

I do a lot of custom stuff, for sure. Obviously, I'm more drawn to cooler photography, like stuff that's just wicked and different, you know what I mean? Rather than some basic stuff, which is why I started out with a lot of those headless people. I was always just open to experimenting, just getting better, and realism. So I was doing a lot of custom pieces on the side, regardless of what I was posting. I always post maybe 20%. Sometimes it would take me by surprise, a lot of my stuff on my Instagram are custom pieces, then I'm like, "Damn, this actually came out really sick." Honestly, I don't put that much thought behind it. As much as I would like to say I would. I think it just kind of flows and comes out.

People nowadays are getting way more tattoos frequently, versus older people back then. Every time I come home with a little tattoo, my parents would roll their eyes. What are your thoughts on tattoos normalizing?

I think it's tight. I think it's cool there are so many people trying to get tattoos. Because it opens the market for a bunch of different styles. There are so many different styles of tattooing now, rather than there were like 30 years ago, which is super sick to see.

What does a day off look like for you when you're not tattooing? Do you have any days off?

I don't really take days off. I'm kind of like that though. Even before I tattoed I would draw very obsessively. I'm just very into whatever I'm doing and I try to just push myself all the time.

Say tattooing wasn't an option, could you see yourself doing anything else?

I mean, before I was tattooing I was taking commissioned artwork, and stuff like that. I had done murals on people's walls, which I hated. I was doing that for a second, they really underpaid me, and it was pretty shitty. I was assisting painters also. There are a lot of painters that once they get kind of a bigger name they make their design of a painting they want to do, and then they hire younger artists to like actually paint it for them. Because they don't have time or don't want to spend their time doing it. So like, they would make an outline of a horse and I would actually paint it for them, and then they would sell it on their name and just pay me for that. You know? I liked art, but it never really clicked. I didn't enjoy it to how I enjoy tattooing, but I would probably just go back to figuring something out in art.

So would you say assisting different artists was sort of a driving force as to why you have your own studio?

I wanted my own studio because I hate being bossed by anyone. I like to do my own thing and I don't like to be around many people, so I kinda just needed my privacy. I think a big thing tattooing for me that I don't like, as of lately is that everyone and their fucking aunties literally tattoo now and it's just like, such a huge community. And I think what I liked about being a tattoo artist is that it was a different route than what everyone went on. And now, it's a very common thing. So I kind of don't like feeling like one out of a million in a shop of like 40 other people tattooing. I kind of like being in my own space.

What's a day in your shop sort of look like for you?

I come in early always like an hour early and I just draw all the designs that I have to do that day. Sometimes I do it the night before and I'll kind of just relax. I usually go in and turn the lights on, or you know, just chill for like 30 minutes, and set up.

What does your perfect world look like?

There's nothing much I would want to change. I kind of like how everything is right now. I like that everyone has an option to really put in the work and get to where they want to be if they want to. Some people don't and that's just up to them.

Art

LIA by Iga Drobisz

Your work often explores intimacy and vulnerability. How do you create a safe and authentic environment for your subjects during a shoot?

The past few months, I’ve been working on two series of photographs: nudes of women in their own apartments and portraits of women before and after giving birth. Both series involve capturing them in deeply personal spaces—bedrooms or nurseries—where they feel at ease.

Shooting in their spaces, in their own beds, plays a crucial role in creating comfort. I choose film and cameras that show them in a way they find beautiful and empowering, emphasizing softness and warmth. It's a stark contrast to modern, hyper-detailed phone cameras that sometimes reveal more than one wants to see.

Your photography has a distinct emotional depth and texture. How do you approach the interplay of light, color, and composition to achieve this?

My process is highly intuitive. I’ve never formally studied photography or apprenticed under anyone—I learned by experimenting and seeing what felt right. It’s about trusting my instincts rather than adhering to rigid rules.

What role do personal experiences or cultural influences play in shaping the stories you tell through your images? Many of your photographs feel deeply narrative.

Growing up, I was surrounded by great cinematography. My grandmother had a TV, but my mom only brought home VHS tapes—films with substance. I think that exposure shaped how I see the world, how I approach subjects, and the narrative depth in my work.

What role does spontaneity play in your shoots? Do you leave room for improvisation, or is everything carefully planned?

To balance spontaneity and structure, I go in with a clear plan and strong direction, but I remain open to surprises. It’s about letting the subject feel like the shoot is about them, not me. That openness often leads to the most unexpected, meaningful moments.

What inspired the shoot with singer Lia? How did it come together?

Collaborating with Ruby and Naomi always takes me out of my comfort zone in the best way. For this shoot, we wanted to transform someone with an iconic face but also someone like Lia—someone with a clear sense of self.

Giving her a completely new look was exciting; it brought an unexpected energy to the set. The approach was playful and experimental. The night before, I had no idea what wigs Ruby would bring or what colors Naomi might choose. It was a beautiful mix of spontaneity and collaboration.

What inspires you the most?

Movies and music are big inspirations for me, as well as the work of other photographers like Carlijn Jacobs, Harley Weir, Rineke Dijkstra, Charlotte Wales, and Nan Goldin.

What emotions or truths are the hardest for you to express through your art, and why?

I don’t think I consciously try to express specific emotions when I work. Instead, I follow what feels right in the moment—what draws me in or excites me that day. It’s less about a deliberate expression and more about letting intuition guide the way.

Art

Luna Luna: Surrealist Spectacle Lands in New York

November 21, 2024

In the 1980s, André Heller, an Austrian artist, singer-songwriter, and former actor, was looking for a new place to showcase his art. He had already taken to gardens, creating a colorful, surrealistic character using 40,000 flowers, and to the skies, organizing a 'fire theatre,' which involved an over-the-top fireworks show complete with steel-frame sculptures set on fire. But he had never tried out a fair.

So began "Luna Luna." Created as the world's first art carnival, "Luna Luna" combined the spectacular with the absurd, showcasing original rides and attractions from rising and already-at-the-top artists in Hamburg. Nearly forty years since its debut, followed by foiled plans for a worldwide tour, breached contracts, and 44 storage containers, the art fair has finally returned, calling New York home after re-debuting last year in Los Angeles.

By Hailey Johnson
Photography by Delvin Claro and Sabrina Sarnitz, courtesy of Luna Luna LLC

On a recent evening in Hudson Yards, a small carousel featured characters in quirky, Twister-like poses and an outstretched dog with seven legs. (Almost a century old, the rides are no longer rideable.) Goofy wooden sculptures were elevated in another corner, some of them cross-eyed or with a horn for a nose. A geodesic dome glowed, with Gregorian chants hovering somewhere above it.

"It's an art experience like no other," Michael Goldberg, Chief Experience Officer of Luna Luna, said recently. "People get to see artists do things they've never done before," he added.

Goldberg, founder of Something Special Studios, a creative agency behind many Nike campaigns, was determined to resurrect “Luna Luna” after reading about it online in 2019. Goldberg shopped for investors, eventually teaming up with DreamCrew, a media company co-owned by the rapper Drake. (Details on the company's investment remain vague; sources have reported that DreamCrew spent over "100 million dollars.") In 2022, an intensive restoration process began, with a team of artists reviving many of the original works, which had remained in boxes in a Texas warehouse for over thirty years. Several had been in pieces. (The team reportedly had to rebuild each work "bolt by bolt.")

That night, at the Shed, fourteen out of the original thirty-five works were on display, including the small carousel (Keith Haring), the goofy sculptures (Kenny Scharf), the neon dome (Salvador Dali), and a towering Ferris wheel decorated in drawings of stick figures, upside crowns, and references to Jim Crow (Basquiat). Missing works are in a "constant state of restoration," Goldberg said. Meanwhile, new attractions are joining the line-up. For the New York show, the Puerto Rican duo Poncilí Creación was commissioned to create "PonciliLand," a blink-and-you-miss-it section where guests "can create fantastical characters out of custom building blocks." Poncili also developed floating characters, inspired by performers who circulated the original “Luna Luna” fairgrounds in 1987. Known as "Lovers," the two characters, large and dreamlike, teetered to one side, mumbling the kind of nervous groans one does before a fall. (They never ended up falling.)

I asked Goldberg if, given that today's culture doesn't quite look or feel the same way as it did in 1987, there was any hesitation in showing some of the original works. On a back wall, a tribute featured Manfred Diex's "Palace of the Wind," a show featuring performers who fart into a microphone; on another, two ornate pedestals held sculptures of spiral poop.

"I don't see any reason why we wouldn't show any of these works," he said. "A lot of the time, art is exclusive and uninviting. The big difference between “Luna Luna” and other art experiences is that it has many sides to it, and things that have a bit of humor and playful energy. "As for "Palace of the Winds,” the decision to keep it was simple: farting is universal. He went on: "The “Crap Chancellery" is, conceptually, one of the most important works in “Luna Luna.” Daniel Spoerri's dad was killed in the Holocaust, and the work was inspired by Albert Speer, who was Hitler's architect. He took the facade of what was meant to be a Nazi shrine and turned it into the facade of a bathroom with two steaming statues of shit standing on the outside. These works are extremely important and are things that we would definitely want to honor and draw attention to."

As “Luna Luna” further develops, the show will likely change. "It will continue to evolve as we go to different cities in response to the spaces that we pop up into and in collaboration with the local city," Goldberg said." With it, there will be new characters and new stories to tell. One aspect that won't change, though, as Goldberg assured, is a long-held sentiment about a potential partnership. At one point, early on during the original “Luna Luna” era, McDonald's wanted to buy into it. Heller said no, adding that he "didn't want it to feel like Disneyland." Goldberg agreed. Nonetheless, as I watched Kenny Scharf's dizzying swing ride go around for what felt like the hundredth time, with the cartoon characters decorated on it blurring together (one with a villain's grin, another morphed into a martini glass), I couldn't help but feel like maybe I was at Disneyland, only not as robbed, but just as entertained and exhausted by its rides and fantastical characters, and wanting to go again.

Luna Luna, Hamburg, Germany, 1987.

Art

Pamela Sneed’s Speaking Tongue opens at Dashwood Projects

November 15, 2024

Pamela Sneed’s latest exhibition, Speaking Tongue, will be on view at Dashwood Projects from November 20 to December 21. The show features twenty watercolor and ink paintings inspired by her recent trip to Kenya, where she was deeply moved by the elegance of giraffes, the landscapes, and the energy of Nairobi.

Blending her background as a poet and visual artist, Sneed’s work reflects on themes of identity, nature, and connection. Her paintings capture the beauty and spirit of the animals she encountered, alongside reflections on her own experiences as part of the African diaspora.

This exhibition marks Sneed’s first solo show with Dashwood Projects and will be accompanied by a new book, also titled Speaking Tongue, to be released in December.