You’ll barely ever see Cristopher Labarca sitting down—unless he’s tattooing someone.

As I wander into his shop in New West’s West End, he’s on his feet, busy dealing with a leak in the shop—fortunately nothing is damaged.

But Labarca—who is known in the community as “Fito”—is unfazed, the senior tattoo artist smiling as he asks the two gentlemen helping him with the issue what to do next. As he finishes up with the duo, he apologizes profusely, and asks if I’d like to sit down in their staffroom while I wait.

The staffroom gives off a cozy, living room vibe: there’s an old vintage arcade cabinet on one end, and on the other side of the room, a massive table for folks to have a bite to eat. There are murals on the walls—it’s definitely far from your average staff room.

“That has lots and lots and LOTS of games on it,” Labarca says, noticing me staring at the gaming cabinet. “Everything you can think of, it’s on there. We love games, my wife and I.”

The cabinet is just one of a number of symbols representing how far this Chilean-Canadian has come. He began his journey moving to Canada with a stay in New West, roughly seven years ago.

“When I moved to Canada, New West was my first place…The Quay, I fell in love with. I used to live along Royal [Ave.], Victoria Hill. I’d just go to my balcony and watch The Quay for hours, trying to manifest this,” Labarca tells The Anchor, gesturing to the space around us.

Today, Labarca is a multi-award-winning artist, specializing in Black and Grey realism. If you can name it, he’s probably done it: everything from big cats to Albert Einstein, Scrooge McDuck, and even Slappy the Dummy. (That last one’s for all you R.L. Stine Goosebumps fans out there.)

Labarca got his start with a private studio, and later ended up at Happy Buddha. After his time at Happy Buddha, he felt ready to open up his own private studio, which he did in Burnaby—admittedly disappointed he wasn’t able to find something here.

“I did my entire [tattoo] career pretty much in Canada. I started tattooing with the goal of opening [a space like] this. The main goal was to have a shop to create family,” he stresses, adding that it was imperative for him to create an atmosphere where artists could not only have the freedom to create, but where they felt welcomed and empowered.

“If I’m under pressure, I can’t do my art. If I have someone screaming at me all day, ‘you have to be here! You have to do this! You have to do that!’ I can’t express myself. Art is freedom. Art is liberating.”

Labarca knew he’d done the right thing coming to Canada when, in his early days, he spotted a person he couldn’t help but quietly root for. “I saw someone dressed as an anime character here. And back in Chile, if someone was doing that, they’d be made fun of back home. When I saw the person here, I was like, ‘wow, this is sick. You can be you. You can be whatever you want.’” On a related note, you can quickly figure out which station is Labarca’s at the West End shop: it’s filled to the nines with Dragon Ball Z art and figures—and yes, he’s a massive fan.

A lot of that perspective is not only part of his art: it’s also part of the way he runs his businesses. It’s important for his artists to feel they belong. “The main goal is to let them do whatever the f*ck they want [art-wise],” he exclaims proudly—immediately apologizing with a smile for his language. “And I love that we did it. We built a family. We have a solid team—some people come and go sometimes, that’s normal. But the goal is that everyone is happy. We don’t have a boss here.”

Labarca says it’s common for them to sit down as a group and brainstorm ideas. The group of 11 will all have the opportunity to chime in about whether they’d like to tackle the item or take a pass on it.

Another thing they shared together: the stresses of COVID-19. Labarca says it was one of the toughest times in his career. “Something would always happen, and I’d think, ‘what if I have to close the shop?’”

They were able to weather the storm—which he says he’s incredibly proud of—given that his team and him made it seem like they hadn’t missed a beat when they were able to reach some kind of relative normal again. “This is a really open space. One guy’s tattooing, another guy’s tattooing, I’m talking with their client, their client is talking with my client, and it’s really open. It’s different from the regular idea that people have of tattoo shops.”

Perceptions, stereotypes, and tattooing

Not everything is 100% sunshine and roses, however: as is the case with both of his shops—and he adds, as is much of the tattooing industry—there are still some challenges.

Labarca says he’s been made aware of recent complaints about his shop, especially about his newer location. In at least one of the complaints, he says the person asked him to close. “The problem [with the complaints] was more internal, my heart was [broken], ‘people don’t want us here?’ But sometimes people just do that. They just don’t like people with tattoos, and I respect your opinion. But [it’s like] I’m not allowed to express myself, and do what I love to do?”

Labarca hopes people will take the time to understand that he is also a taxpayer, that he paid to have his business licensed; it’s been inspected and met the criteria needed to be open in the city. When asked about the way he might think other people perceive tattoo shops in this day and age, he gives an answer akin to the sort of old “biker gang” mentality.

“[The idea of] bikers wearing vests—sure, that might be part of our roots—but it’s evolved. It’s evolved to become something for everyone. And we don’t judge anyone here. Long hair, short hair, black hair, blue hair, man, woman, whoever you are, whoever you want to be. The door is open. This is a judgement-free space.”

Along with the ability to be creative, one of the indirect impacts of his work and how proud it’s made him, he says, is to see how people adjust the way they look at themselves.

“I’ve had so many clients that, before they get a tattoo, they have really low self-esteem. I [ask those] people, ‘why are you getting a tattoo?’ They may say ‘no, I don’t feel good enough, I’m doing this to break a cycle to represent something.’ Then I see them, maybe they have a full sleeve and they come to the mirror [to look at the tattoo] and they’re a different person.”

Another underrated point about the industry, Labarca adds, is how much work goes into tattooing, explaining that he’s had to ask up-and-coming artists to make sure they know what they’re getting into.

“I always tell new people in the industry, ‘get ready, because you have to be an artist, a psychologist, a manager of your own company, you have to be a social media expert, a salesman, you have to deal with clients, you have paperwork.’ But this is so worth it.”

Another piece of advice for both those in the tattoo industry, artists, and anyone who is looking to become an entrepreneur: never undervalue yourself.

“I’ve seen lately that shops or [tattoo] artists are charging nothing [for their work]. Maybe it’s something good right now, but it [becomes] hard work to charge a little bit more.”

Rates vary depending on the artist’s experience, and the kind of work done, but Labarca says he remembers when they started to charge $80 to $100 an hour for work.

“For the new artists, value your work. Valorize who you are.”

The door is always open at New Edge Ink’s two locations:

• 1117 Sixth Ave. (original location)

• 255 6th St. (Newest location)