It's in the heart: Old friends and artists Becky Hochhalter, Bill Wolfe discuss their careers

Sep. 15—Terre Haute's two best-known artists may know one another better than anyone else.

Sculptor Bill Wolfe's statues occupy much of the city, from the fallen officers standing outside the Terre Haute Police Department to the famous Larry Bird work looming outside Hulman Center. While working at Ideas Incorporated, he also created the Holiday Inn logo, which the chain has used for the last 40 years.

Muralist Becky Hochhalter has been working in art-related fields for 37 years, which is how long she and Wolfe have known one another. They met when she was a teenager working at Ideas Incorporated, where Wolfe was the art director. Her 60 public murals, which often take up entire exterior walls of businesses, can be seen in 11 cities in Indiana and Illinois.

Before sitting down to discuss their careers, Hochhalter wryly said, "He'll say that he taught me everything I know. You can believe half of everything you hear."

Early on, as they were getting their sea legs as freelance artists, Wolfe recruited Hochhalter to assist him on a couple of his early projects — the historical murals inside the Vigo County Courthouse and the Schulte Golden Bear, named after the mascot for the former Catholic high school and standing at Ohio Boulevard and 30th Street.

"I sort of wanted to get her acclimated to the idea that she could do this, to give her some confidence," Wolfe said. "She was just starting out thinking about doing this. I knew the talent was there, but I don't know that she had the confidence."

"Bill actually inspired me, just watching him successfully go out and be a professional artist," Hochhalter said. "I saw him succeed and thought I could do it — I know I wanted to try. Seeing Bill be successful at it gave me the confidence to make the leap of faith."

She added, "There was a lot of stress in my job, so I decided that if I was going to be under stress and pressure, I was going to be under my own and not somebody else's. It's completely different when you're driving yourself and you're really enjoying what you're doing — it makes a lot of difference."

Both are self-taught, though they both attended art school briefly.

"I didn't learn anything," Wolfe said, smiling.

"We already knew everything — they couldn't teach us anything," Hochhalter drolly added.

Both have major projects imminently upcoming in downtown Indianapolis.

Though best known for the medium most commonly associated with their public art, Wolfe also paints and Hochhalter also sculpts. They sat down to discuss their life's work over beverages at the Terminal Public House, where Hochhalter is working on her current project, a mural that will cover the building's eastside wall. (She has also created murals for its sister restaurant, Charlie's Pub and Grub.)

The conversation was edited for length.

Early careers

Wolfe's first commission was to create a statue of Korean War Medal of Honor winner Corporal Charles G. Abrell outside the Vigo County Courthouse.

"I said, 'I haven't made a life-size statue before, but I'll try,'" he said. "I didn't know what I was doing, but I just started and built up that figure and got it cast into bronze, and my very first piece is standing in front of the Vigo County Courthouse."

"There's a commonality between us and our careers in that I think both of us attacked projects that we didn't know we could do for sure," Hochhalter said. "But we're like, 'I'm going to go for the project first and if I get it, then I'm going to figure it out.' Bill does the same thing and in doing that, we've learned and we've learned and we've learned. But there's that constantly going for something higher and bigger even if you aren't sure you know how to do it."

"I was learning sculpture technique and what materials to use and how to build up a life-size figure, how to work on a face in clay to make it look like whoever I'm doing," Wolfe said. "It's something that I think you're born with. I know Becky was born with some talent there already. The deal is, you use incentive to take it further. A lot of people can draw or sculpt, but they don't carry it any further."

"I was pretty sure I could do a mural," Hochhalter said. "My first really big commissioned mural was for a two-story building — I had never done it before and would learn as I go."

In creating works, Wolfe said, "The bottom line is I'm fully aware that I'm part of history. So is what we do" — he turned to Hochhalter —"you don't think so?"

"I think it could be good or bad," she replied with a laugh.

"When I'm working on a project, I'm fully aware that I'm doing something that is leaving a legacy of a person — like Max Ehrmann," Wolfe said, referring to his sculpture of the poet located at Wabash Avenue and 7th Street. "I'm doing a statue of him and I'm leaving his legacy out there. And in a way, it's part of my legacy, too. That's what's cool about what we do, it's a part of public art. You put yourself out there, you're taking a gamble on whether it will be good enough..."

"It's really a scary thing, to throw it out there and see what the public is going to say about it can be intimidating," Hochhalter admitted. "When I'm working on a mural in the public eye, people are watching me every day and half the time I'm up there terrified that it looks terrible and people have no idea."

She recalled painting a 33-foot tall portrait of country singer Brett Eldredge in Paris, Illinois, where everyone knew him and a lot of his family lived.

"That was very, very intimidating when his face is four feet tall," Hochhalter said. "I had to be in just the right frame of mind to be able to paint that face and so I kept waiting until I was in the right place. The day I started, within an hour I already had what seemed like a good likeness. It just flew out of my fingers, but for a split second I didn't want to take the lift down to look at it, because if I get away from the wall, people will be able to see it and know that it doesn't look like him."

She laughed at her case of the nerves, then added, "One of his uncles pulled up and said, 'I'm his uncle and that looks just like him.' I said, 'Phew, I can come down from the wall now.' But people have no idea how scary it is to put your art out there.

"Some days, it's flowing out of your fingers like Rembrandt and other days, it's like a sixth grader in art class," Hochhalter added. "That's the weirdest thing about being an artist — some days you have full access to it, and other days, you don't. The worst thing is when it shows."

"I've failed a couple of times and it's really depressing," Wolfe said. "For me, your latest project is how good you are and if you fail, you're looking at that and it really bothers me."

"Man, I've failed way more than that," Hochhalter replied. "We're always so critical of ourselves. I have a hard time letting things go because I have this perfectionist's streak."

"When you finally get approval for what you've done, then you can finally step back and look at it almost from a different perspective," Wolfe said. "There comes a time years from then when you can go, 'I think I did pretty good on that' and it's almost like you're looking at it like someone else did it."

"Right," Hochhalter agreed. "It takes a little time to get there."

Assessing one another's work

Hochhalter: "Well, this is awkward."

Wolfe: "Be nice."

Hochhalter: "I'm always nice. Bill's paintings — his painting of his dog Juno, an Alaskan huskie — was one of the first paintings of Bill's that I had probably seen and it is still my favorite. It ranks up there with the Wyatt's to me. I love it."

Wolfe: "It's still my favorite. Now tell me about my sculpting."

Hochhalter: "Bill's an excellent sculptor. We critique each other's work all the time. We'll send each other a picture and say, 'How do you think this looks? Tell me what I should change.' I think I've watched your sculpting improve even over the last 10 years. It's just gotten better and better and better."

Wolfe: "As it should. ... I feel now that every one that I do is better. I kind of joke that by the time I'm 90, I'm gonna be really good. I don't think I'll ever retire."

Hochhalter: "I don't think I'll ever retire."

Wolfe: "I'm amazed at her ability to tackle — the one thing — oh, I'm going to sound sexist."

Hochhalter: "Probably." (Laughs)

Wolfe: "I'm not even gonna say it."

Hochhalter: "You can say it, I don't care."

Wolfe: "I'm just amazed, and I've had others tell me that they're amazed —"

Hochhalter: "That a woman can do this? Is that what you were going to say?"

Wolfe: "You just said that, thank you."

Hochhalter: (Laughs) "That's OK, I'm proud that I'm a woman able to do this. To me, I'm setting an example for other female artists. I like to see the look on people's faces when they come out and see me get in the boom lift. Some guys can't believe I can operate it."

Wolfe: "She's probably one of the most talented people I know. Her style is about as close to mine than anybody else that I know."

Hochhalter: "I think we've always had a pretty similar style."

On inspiration

Wolfe: "It's in here (points to heart)."

Hochhalter: "Sometimes whether you think that a piece is really successful or not has to do with your emotional connection to the piece. The emotional connection I had to a Fishers mural that I did that had a K-9 that was a memorial to a K-9 that had been killed in the line of duty. I had the family come paint on his portrait. The emotional connection to that piece now is one of my favorite murals that I've ever done."

Wolfe: "When Greg Ferency's father came in (to see Wolfe's statue of his son who had been murdered in the line of duty with Terre Haute police), I didn't know who he was. He sat down right in front of the statue and you could see it. He pointed at the statue and said, 'That's my son.'

"It's an emotional thing and when the father points at the statue and accepts that as his son, then you know you've done a good job. When you're working on it, you don't necessarily know what you're doing at the moment. It's when you see people with tears in their eyes, you go, 'OK, that's what this is about.'"

Hochhalter: "You have all this emotion when you're doing it, and that release of emotion —"

Wolfe: "That end part where you see everybody that accepts it and loves it, it's a feeling of accomplishment."

Hochhalter: "I've done a lot of memorial portraits, just being able to do that for people — they need that. It's very hard emotionally to do these kinds of projects. A lot of artists will turn it down and say, 'I just can't do it.' I do it because I think they need that. It's pretty special to be able to do that for people."

Wolfe: "When the end comes near, I'm hoping to sign my last painting or etch into clay my last sculpture, and then clock out."

Hochhalter: "Not me, I'm going to live forever."

David Kronke can be reached at 812-231-4232 or at david.kronke@tribstar.com.