In October of 2002, I received a phone call from Mr. Hilliard. Apparently Mr. Walker had become aware of my work thus far and desired to meet with me to discuss the project. He wanted to visit my studio and see the concept I was developing so we met the weekend before Thanksgiving.
That Saturday morning, I met a distinguished appearing black man with salt and pepper short hair and beard. His receding hair line framed a pleasant face that held perceptive, focused eyes behind round spectacles. His attire and his demeanor suggested a professional quality that accomplished men often carry. Although I was not offended, I did feel from the start that he was evaluating me and assessing my motives. After all, this was his project long before I had even heard of it. Had the roles been revered, I would have been doing the same.
I tried to be as honest and transparent as I could about my interest in this monument and the nature of my work and method. If my ideas and my other works did not impress him or stimulate him to reminisce about his initial idea and excitement so many years ago, maybe I was not the right artist. My heart told me otherwise.
When Mr. Walker saw my own collection of art, his face spoke as if to say, “I don’t guess you’ve had time to go out and collect and hang all these works of African American figures just in time for me to arrive?” His face spoke the truth. I had been collecting for twenty years with no particular plan to assemble such a collection, though my tastes and artistic style and interests had led me to it. That realization led us to a long conversation about family and childhood and our shared home state. I learned of his upbringing in the black community of Vicksburg, Mississippi, of his respect and admiration for his deceased father, of his own triumphs and trials as Vicksburg’s first black mayor, of his distaste for the political process, and of his passion for this impending monument. I like the man from the start.
As we discussed my art and my own recent examination of the unexplainable course that my work and collection had taken, some of Mr. Walker’s questions about how I even became interested in this project were answered. As a practicing physician, I am not in the business of pursuing any and all art projects that come along.
When we walked out to the studio to see the studies, his concern was not about the design of the three figures but the fact of the center man being white. Since the park has hundreds of figurative monuments with not one black portrayed, he felt some in the African American community might be offended and vocal that the only memorial in a Civil War Park that honored the Colored Troops had to have a white soldier in it as well. Despite my explanation that the white man served only to dramatize the racial relationships accentuating the significance of black soldiers and was not the focus of the monument, Mr. Walker’s sensitive, non-combative explanation of the potential controversy made sense and I planned in subsequent point-up enlargements of the design to make all three men black.
Although the committee had not decided how it would proceed with their selection of an artist for this project, I believe Robert Walker left my studio that day with a renewed vigor for his dream; he had at least seen a conceptual model of black men in uniform which only reinforced in his mind that the thing was going to happen. Whether I would be the artist was certainly not decided, but my work had helped him see the light at the end of the long drawn-out tunnel. As he returned to his truck to leave, the committee chairman turned to say, “This thing is actually going to happen.” His words had no ring of question, rather a resolve of persistent passion.
We both smiled. It was a good morning.
* * *
Several months later, Mr. Hilliard’s office called to let me know that the Committee had decided to advertise the monument project as a nation wide competition before granting the commission. By that time I had invested nearly two years into my research and design study.
I completed the application and a couple of weeks later I received a letter informing me that I had been selected as one of four finalists for the competition. The committee requested a design plan, renderings, and studies for the monument. That December I was interviewed by the committee and as 2002 drew to a close, I eagerly awaited their decision.
* * *
In January, I received a call from Mr. Hilliard requesting that I set up a meeting in Jackson to talk with the committee and discuss plans to move forward with the sculpture design. The words “You have been granted the commission” were not used and I did not push.
The following week, I met with the committee . . . Bill Nichols, the Vicksburg National Park Superintendent; Mr. Hilliard; grant coordinator, Debra Oakley; Ronnie Bounds, City Planner of Vicksburg; Ken P’Poole, Department of Archives and History Civil War Historian; and Bea Moore, project manager from the City Planner’s office. We discussed proposed changes to the clay model and other issues of site design and installation. At that meeting, I was informed that the decision had been made to grant me the commission and the details of a contract were being worked out. After two hours of discussion and brainstorming about a final design concept, I was charged to move forward with a final model clay design in 1/3 life size. I couldn’t wait to get started.
My mind went back to that day when I stood in the studio driveway with Robert Walker. I could hear his words clearly and for the first time, beyond my own dreams, I too could believe them. This thing was going to happen.
* * *
The initial design had come from my mind, with no attention to accurate size or proportion and no real effort at capturing the human anatomy that would be necessary before launching into a sculpture of this scale. Now I had to focus on a final concept that would become the design for enlarging to a monumental sculpture. I was able to hire local models willing to spend long hours in difficult poses and share with me not only skin and muscle and bone, but a real heart for this important endeavor.
Using proportional calipers, I built three nude figures one third life size. The forms were then intertwined into the long studied composition and the supporting armatures were bolted into place. From there the clothing and accessories were shaped about the bodies, all the while checking closely for anatomical, proportional, and historical accuracy. By early February, I knew the design was taking shape as I could feel these men starting to breathe. I found myself in one of those special times when I can’t wait to get to the studio.
By mid February, 2003, members of the committee along with administrative representatives from the National Military Park Service visited my studio for a final inspection of the sculpture. Attention to the historical accuracy of the uniforms and weapons led to some subtle changes after which the committee approved the final design. We were ready to begin the next phase in this monumental process as the composition would be recreated four times larger to its final one and one-third life size.