CNN  — 

Favored by hardened yakuza gang members and law-abiding body art purists alike, large-scale Japanese tattoos are widely celebrated for their distinctive style, mythological motifs and vibrant coloring.

But while many of the common motifs are steeped in history and folklore, Japan’s pictorial tattooing tradition is relatively new. Before the Edo period (c.1615-1868), tattoos were primarily used as crude markers of punishment for petty criminals or of fealty for lovers, or else the domain of the indigenous Ainu tribes of the northern islands.

Photographer preserves samurai history using 19th-century technique

According to “Tattoos in Japanese Prints,” a new publication from the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, it was only in the 19th century that they were elevated to the level of art.

Author Sarah E. Thompson, curator of Japanese art at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, traces their popularity back to the publication of “One Hundred and Eight Heroes of the Popular Water Margin,” a series of woodblock prints by the artist Utagawa Kuniyoshi, between 1827 and 1830.

His prints, adapted from a 14th-century Chinese novel, saw bandit heroes covered with elaborate, full-body tattoos rendered in impressive detail. The common motifs – dragons and demons, fearsome predators, koi fish and cherry blossoms – were laden with meaning, and added another layer to the narrative.

Courtesy Museum of Fine Arts, Boston
Artist Utagawa Kunisada was one of the first to popularize tattoos in woodblock prints in the 19th century. Here he's depicted three actors in various roles, their tattoos meant to evoke characters from the books and plays of the day.
Courtesy Museum of Fine Arts, Boston
While this production was set in the distant past, the actors in this kabuki scene are covered in the peony, dragon and eagle tattoos that were popular during the Edo period.
Courtesy Museum of Fine Arts, Boston
Many real historical figures were also given contemporary tattoos. Hayakawa Ayunosuke, for example, was a samurai in the 16th century, long before the rise of this type of tattoo work was widespread. Call it creative license.
Courtesy Museum of Fine Arts, Boston
Kuniyoshi covered the martial artist Yan Qing, a character known for his fine looks, with lions and peonies, which were symbols of wealth, strength and good fortune.
Courtesy Museum of Fine Arts, Boston
The leopard on the fictional Ruan Xiaowu's back (his face is hidden near his left shoulder) suggests strength and ferocity.
Courtesy Museum of Fine Arts, Boston
Zhang Shun, one of the character's from "One Hundred and Eight Heroes of the Popular Water Margin," is covered in ivy leaves, a waterfall and a snake that twists around his body. They hint at the characters strength and swimming skills.
Courtesy Museum of Fine Arts, Boston
The actor at center, is playing a character named Danshichi Kurobei, a fishmonger. The prominent lobster tattoo on his arm alludes to his profession.
Courtesy Museum of Fine Arts, Boston
The thistles on the actor's thighs and arms here are a reference to his character's name. (Oniazami Seikichi translates to "demon thistle.")
Courtesy Museum of Fine Arts, Boston
Tattoos were particularly favored by laborers, including construction workers. The tattooed arms of the crouching man were somewhat typical.
Courtesy Museum of Fine Arts, Boston
Homemade tattoos were a sign of romantic devotion in the 18th century. Here, Azamino, a courtesan, inscribes her name and the word "life" on her lover's arm.
Courtesy Museum of Fine Arts, Boston
Here, three actors pause at a waterfall while on a pilgrimage. The man in the center's tattoo tells the story of a woman who swam to the underwater Dragon Palace to get back a jewel stolen by the Dragon King. (The woman is on his right arm, the dragon on his left.)
Courtesy Museum of Fine Arts, Boston
Konjin Chōgorō, a legendary sumo wrestler, defeats a guardian god during an encounter in a ruined temple. He's covered in peonies and a waterfall.
Courtesy Museum of Fine Arts, Boston
"Tattoos in Japanese Prints" by Sarah E. Thompson, published by the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, is out now.

“By emphasizing the tattoos sported by some of the heroes, Kuniyoshi’s print designs not only exploited the allure of the exotic but also provided a titillating hint of the illicit – especially if the suggestion that pictorial tattoos in Japan had been outlaws and spread to fashionable urbanites is correct,” Thompson writes.

Roller-zoku: The Japanese fashion tribe keeping rock 'n' roll alive

The impact of the “Water Margin” series and similar works from Kuniyoshi and his contemporaries was immediate and broad-reaching. Men across class lines requested tattoos of scenes from “Water Margins” – and, in some cases, the characters’ tattoos. Textile artists started incorporating tattoo-like prints into their designs; kabuki stars painted simple designs onto their skin for performances.

(The tattoos did have their detractors, however. In 1872, as Japan started its push toward Westernization, tattoos were banned by the Japanese government, who considered them uncivilized and old-fashioned. This ban was lifted after the American occupation after WWII.)

“It is uncertain whether Kuniyoshi was responding to a recent craze for extensive pictorial tattoos, or whether – as suggested by oral tradition among present-day tattoo artists – it was the prints themselves that inspired the new fashion,” Thompson writes.

“Perhaps the answer lies somewhere in between: large tattoos were already beginning to appear, but it was Kuniyoshi who transformed a temporary fad into a lasting art form.”

“Tattoos in Japanese Prints” by Sarah E. Thompson, published by the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, is out now.