PORTRAIT of the Sculptor

FOUR DOORS DOWN FROM COACH'S sports bar, behind a row of trucks and parked cars, is a thirteen-foot-tall horse and rider staring out a storefront window. Both are a dull, chocolate brown, with such finely sculpted features they look like they might trot right out the door. Occasionally, people walking by stare inside, trying to make sense of this peculiarity.

Sculptor Paul Moore, the inhabitant of this downtown Norman space, doesn't seem to mind. In fact, he doesn't even seem to notice. Right now, he is more concerned about the sculpted texture of a rawhide stirrup and a tendon on the horse's back leg.

He touches the matte brown clay and motions toward the area of concern. It looks nearly perfect. There is so much rendered detail on this life-and-a-half-size, clay-covered, foam horse and rider that it looks ready for the Land Run of 1889.

It might seem natural, then, that the man now creating the largest bronze sculpture in the world should be so obsessed with the angle, shape, and depth of a horse's tendon. So it goes for Moore.

He has steeped himself in the subtleties of equine anatomy and the historical nuances of our state's infancy. And he has focused on this project, the 365-foot-long, 45-piece Oklahoma. Centennial Land Run Monument, for the past three years. For him, ⌠nearly perfect■ isn't an option.

As he studies the horse and rider under the painted tin ceiling in his Crown Arts studio, there are flickering moments when Moore, forty-six, seems not quite of our time. Controlled and private, his reserved demeanor is reminiscent of the strong male archetype: deliberate, thoughtful, an economy of words. Given his affinity for history and the sprawling project which has overtaken nearly every square inch of his studio, perhaps this should not be a surprise.

With one foot firmly planted in the historical dust and turmoil of the land runs of late nineteenth-century Oklahoma Territory and the other placed confidently in the computer-aided heart of the early twenty-first century, Paul Moore, a member of the Creek Nation, is a man who straddles two worlds, two centuries, every day of the week.

At any given moment, he juggles phone calls from the Crucible (the nearby Norman foundry where his sculptures are cast), supervises computer graphics and blueprints for future projects, verifies the exact type of hat or vest worn by a rider and, if he's lucky, gets to do some sculpting.

Sculpting is what Moore does for ⌠fun,■ and it's what he would rather do than just about anything else in the world. Although the Land Run project and his many other commissions require long hours in the studio and seven-day-a-week dedication, Moore wouldn't have it any other way.

⌠I knew, from an early age, that I wanted to do something artistic,■ he says.

As a child growing up in small towns, moving back and forth between Oklahoma and California, art was a rare constant in his life. He recalls using ⌠whatever I could get my hands on,■ and spending ⌠a lot of time drawing in church.■ Born in Oklahoma City but residing in towns like Vici, Duncan, and Hext Switch, Moore never lived near a large museum or cultural center and wasn't able to indulge his burgeoning interest in the actual art works of the American West.

Instead, he read books and pored over the detailed pictures of the art celebrating that part of our nations history. Daniel Chester French, James Earle Fraser, Jo Davidson ≈ these historical greats of American figurative sculpture are the artistic heroes from whom the self-taught Moore gleaned an early sculptural knowledge of form, technique, and the importance of light and shadow.

At age thirteen, Moore had an epiphany of sorts when his mother took him to the Cowboy Hall of Fame in Oklahoma City. They spent the day there, and while his mother waited patiently, Moore walked the entire museum knowing, perhaps subconsciously, that he, too, would be a sculptor.

It is a moment which Moore can recall with startling clarity. He remembers his exact path through the museum, and, most importantly, two James Earle Fraser pieces, End of the Trail and Abraham Lincoln, newly acquired by the museum in 1968.

⌠They inspired me to dream of the possibility of doing monumental sculptures,■ says Moore.

Along with his seven years of experience at the Shidoni foundry in Santa Fe, a stint as a telephony engineer during his early twenties, and his love of books, it was a moment which marked the beginning of the ⌠self-apprenticeship■ which has culminated in the career he enjoys today.

Currently, Moore sits near the top of his profession and is regarded as one of the most gifted and prolific figurative sculptors of his generation. He has completed forty-six public works of art in the last five years, including the eleven-by-thirty-five-foot On the Chisholm Trail in Duncan, a bust of animator Chuck Jones for the National Portrait Gallery at the Smithsonian Institution, and Awakening, a life-size female nude, for Black Entertainment Television.

He is routinely included in invitational exhibits and currently has three sculptures in Changing the Landscape of America, an exhibit by members of the prestigious National Sculpture Society in New York City.

Byron Price, former director of the National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum (formerly the Cowboy Hall of Fame) and current director of the Charles M. Russell Center for the Study of Art of the American West at OU, is not surprised by any of the accolades bestowed on Moore by collectors and sculptors.

⌠Paul Moore is one of the finest figurative sculptors anywhere,■ he says. ⌠His greatness lies not only in his tenacity as an artist, but more importantly, in his ability to conceptualize an idea and to bring out the personality, emotion, and inner essence of a particular subject.■

Throughout his career, Moore has cultivated this sense of emotion in his work, and it continues to be evident in a variety of other sculptures in addition to the Land Run monument.

With his recent projects, Price says, ⌠Moore has joined the terrific tradition of figurative, monumental art. We are lucky to have him speak for art in Oklahoma.■

Aside from commissioned pieces and his work on Land Run, Moore also teaches sculpture as an artist-in-residence at the University of Oklahoma in one of the only figurative sculpture programs in the nation. In 1997, at the urging of OU President David Boren, Moore moved from Santa Fe to Norman in order to revive the university's long-dormant program, defunct since 1969.

⌠He's a natural teacher,■ Boren says. ⌠Within a few months of his arrival on campus, there was already a waiting list for his classes. Encouraging Paul to come to OU is one of the best decisions I have made since coming home.■

It also seems to have been the case for Moore. Oklahoma is home, and getting to work with young artists is a way to give back to the profession and state which has already given him so much.

When Paul Moore talks about his life, his teaching, and his art, he uses words like ⌠destiny■ and ⌠dream■ and says, ⌠Everything in my life has brought me to this point.■ All this ≈ utterly heartfelt, utterly genuine, and, most refreshingly, without a hint of irony ≈ is vintage Moore. Unlike many in the art world, he is not inclined toward cynicism and is quick to point out how lucky he is to actually make a living as a sculptor.

As he stands below the clay-covered horses head, gesturing back to the other foam sculptures in the oversized, artistic assembly line in his studio, it is clear how much he values the support and hard work of both his family and his team at the studio.

⌠No one does this on his own,■ says Moore.

Moore fully recognizes how lucky he is to be surrounded by such a capable and dedicated group of people. His sons, Ryan and Todd, wife Kim, daughter-in-law Alma, and assistants Rob Anderson and Sohail Shehada all keep this massive sculpture factory going. They, too, are as aware as Moore of the impending timeline (four to six more years) and momentum necessary to keep the project on schedule.

A lot rides on this Land Run project ≈ international exposure, future funding, peer recognition ≈ and Moore knows it. In fact, he seems to relish it. He has confidence in his artistic skills and a certain understanding of what he and his team are capable of creating. In this knowledge, this faith, Moore resolutely focuses on the texture of one felt hat on one rider or examines and resculpts the tendon on the back leg of a horse.

For him, ⌠nearly perfect■ is not even an option.

AT AGE THIRTEEN, Moore had an epiphany.

▒EVERYTHING IN MY LIFE has brought me to this point.▓