Cinematic Realism, Etched in Black and Grey

Inside Oleksandr Rudenko’s studio in Ukraine, the pace is deliberate. Reference images are studied, not rushed. Sketches stay close, compositions get adjusted again and again, and the machines hum steadily in the background. The focus is quiet but intense. That discipline shows in the work. His black and grey portraits don’t rely on spectacle. They rely on control, contrast, and patience.

Rudenko has been drawing since childhood, but tattooing clicked when he found alternative music and the culture around it. At the time, the tattoo scene in Ukraine was still finding its footing. “I immediately felt a strong connection,” he says. That pull toward tattooing wasn’t about trends. It was about committing to a craft that demanded precision and accountability with every line.

His approach to black and grey realism is built around mood and structure. Likeness matters, but it’s only the starting point. He pushes depth through contrast and lighting, shaping portraits so they feel lived in rather than copied. Each piece is designed to sit on the body with intention, reading clearly from a distance and rewarding closer inspection. Influences from artists like Dima Samokhin, Den Yakovlev, Robert Hernandez, and Denis Sivak helped sharpen his technical foundation, but the work has never drifted into imitation.

Every tattoo starts with conversation. Rudenko wants to understand the idea and the emotion behind it before he builds the composition. From there, he thinks in terms of light source, negative space, and flow on the body. Portraits are his preferred challenge because there is no room to hide. Subtle mistakes show immediately, and restraint matters more than overworking.

He works with rotary machines for consistency and control, using nano liners and curved magnums to keep transitions smooth and intentional. Pigment choice is just as important. Clean, high quality black and grey inks allow the piece to age properly and hold contrast long after healing. Nothing is rushed. Every pass has a purpose.

Some projects stay with an artist long after they’re finished. For Rudenko, one of those moments came during a three day collaboration at a convention in Freiburg, Germany, where he completed a full leg piece. The work earned the Grand Prix, but the real takeaway was the experience itself. Long hours, sustained focus, and the pressure to execute without compromise. That kind of environment shows you exactly where your limits are.

He welcomes both clients who come in with a clear idea and those who give him full trust. In many cases, the strongest pieces happen when the client steps back and allows the process to unfold. Composition, lighting, and subtle details take priority over over explaining the concept.

Rudenko watches tattoo culture evolve, but he stays grounded in fundamentals. He respects hyper realism and technically demanding work when it’s rooted in craft. Trends built for attention rather than longevity don’t interest him. For him, the goal is work that holds up five, ten, twenty years down the line.

Running a studio has forced balance between creativity and structure, from scheduling to communication. For artists coming up, his advice is simple and familiar: draw constantly, study beyond tattooing, and let your style develop naturally. “Compare yourself only to the artist you were yesterday,” he says.

At its core, tattooing is still a collaboration. Once the stencil is gone and the skin settles, the work has to speak for itself. Each portrait Rudenko creates is built to carry feeling, discipline, and intent long after the session ends. That permanence is the responsibility, and the reward.