* * Larry Bechtel is carving his own niche

Even if you don't know who Larry Bechtel is, you probably know some of his bronze sculptures. These include the portrait bust of Nannie B. Hairston at the Montgomery County Government center in Christiansburg, the life-size German Shepherd police dog at the Virginia-Maryland College of Veterinary Medicine in Blacksburg, and the full-size  figure of Virginia Tech's first student, Addison Caldwell, in midstride, near the Performance Arts Building on campus.

Bechtel and I carpooled to the recent Roanoke Regional Writers Conference at Hollins University and we had a chance to chat. Larry is from the Chicago area, but after stops in Oregon, California, Texas, and Maine, found his way to Blacksburg and Virginia Tech, where he taught English—composition and literature. On his first visit to campus he was attracted by…you'll never guess…the trees!

It was while he was teaching that he began seriously to pursue sculpture, as well, in the late '80's and early '90's. Because he did not have a PhD, his advancement opportunities were limited as an instructor. So his interest in ecology and recycling led him to becoming Tech's first Recycling Coordinator. He said of this transition: “In doing this, I conceived of myself as an artist rather than an engineer. I was accustomed to taking a piece of clay and working with it until I came up with something I liked, and I knew that I could do something similar at Tech, utilizing what resources were available, and building these into a comprehensive, reliable recycling program.”

He led the recycling program until his retirement in 2009, when he was able to devote himself fully to “the arts.” In particular, this has been both wood and bronze sculptures, and writing. Usually, he says, “I will shape figures or portraits in clay, and either mold & cast these myself, or have them professionally cast in bronze. I learn as I go along, through conversations with other sculptors, reading books, visiting museums, and attending workshops.”

In doing the sculpture of Addison Caldwell, Bechtel did a lot of background research, in order to a feeling for Caldwell's story. “I spoke with a Civil War re-enactor about what Addison may have worn, or carried. I borrowed a “haversack” from this gentleman, and had a local seamstress tailor a period costume for the young man who modeled for me. I even packed a change of clothes and a sandwich in the haversack. I loved the idealism of his story—it's almost a folktale. Here is a young man, who in 1872 with his brother Milton hiked 28 miles over the mountains from their homeplace on Sinking Creek, to attend this new university in the big town of Blacksburg. Those boys were seeking knowledge, enlightenment! The story is that Addison walked faster than his brother, arrived first at the main building of “Virginia Agricultural and Mechanical College, and so received the scholarship—and is remembered today.

Bechtel is a writer as well, so he's attuned to the literary aspect of his sculptures. “I think of my sculptures as depicting climactic moments in longer narratives,” he says. “I like to think out those narratives, so that they are implied in the sculpture.”

Bechtel does both “additive” and “subtractive” sculpting. “Clay sculpture is basically additive,” he says. “You start with a wire armature, or support framework of some kind, and keep adding on clay until you you're done. Of course, it's not quite as simple as that. Wood sculpture is basically the opposite: you just subtracting, cutting away, until you have 'found'  the form or figure you want.” Bechtel's larger projects take months, sometimes a year or longer. “You're not working at it all the time,” he says. “sometimes you just have to walk away and come back later.”

“Several years ago I did a bust of C. S. Lewis for my alma mater, Wheaton College,” Bechtel recalls. “I spent eleven months on that piece, not just sculpting, but reading Lewis' books—his criticism, his poetry, his space trilogy, two biographies, “The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe.” I got to know him so well that I co-taught a Sunday School class on him, at the Blacksburg Presbyterian Church, with J.D. Stahl.” In fact, I had what felt almost like a 'visitation,' from the ghost of Lewis, as I was nearing completion.”

Bechtel's best advice for people who want to take up sculpture, or writing is to “be patient with yourself. Remember the old adage: art, or really any other good work is ‘10% inspiration and 90% perspiration.’ Some days, you'll think you're the greatest artist ever, and some days you'll wonder what ever gave you the idea you were an artist at all. You have to ignore those highs and lows, and just keep going. It's one thing to start, another to complete.”