GALO: You’ve always been building something, ever since you were a child. First you built plane models, then you went into woodwork, and eventually you fell into sculpting. In the novel, your wife writes that you are rarely, if ever, satisfied with your work due to your critical eye for your own work. Do you agree with her?

SH: I’m extremely critical, but there’s no uncertainty. What I finally realized was that I do not stop working on a piece until it completely fulfills my vision. Sometimes there’s all this external pressure to complete a piece, but until the vision is met by the sculpture, the piece isn’t ready to be released. At this point, I hold fast to my vision. Each day in the studio I build closer to the moment I can release a piece.

GALO: Are you just as critical of the work of others?

SH: I see where other artists are succeeding or are falling short of their potential. It goes with the territory; any professional evaluates their field.

GALO: This happened with your Aphrodite piece when you cut off her arm. Why did you do it? Apparently your wife was distraught with this decision as you had been working on the piece for months.

SH: I cut off her arm because I couldn’t get anything wrong in that piece. Everything has to move in a flowing fashion. One little proportional mistake makes the piece crumble. That one infelicity becomes the downfall of the whole piece.

GALO: You use a lot of real life models for your work even when sculpting goddesses and gods. What have been some of the reactions of your models to the work upon its completion? Did anyone walk away dissatisfied?

SH: Not a single model has ever walked away dissatisfied with my work. It has never happened. When I look at a life model, I am looking at their most positive and best qualities, because those qualities are recreated in the sculpture. Perception leads to reality, and I am perceiving their best attributes because that’s what I want to show up in the sculpture.

GALO: Working with models whether for photo-shoots, drawing, or sculpting can have its pluses and minuses. Can you share with us some stories from your work experiences with them? What level of commitment and passion for the art form is required from both parties, not to mention patience?

SH: When I was working on the Apollo [sculpture] with a dancer who had been dancing for 21 years, he happened to break up with his girlfriend of many years. He stopped eating as much, and there was a moment when this manifested itself as an extremely ripped abdomen. I had been working on the back but I saw the core, so I moved around to the front because I had a flash that I’d be able to catch the articulation of the abdominal wall. This shows how human the creation of my art is because I rely on real people, and a body is in constant change, especially over a two year period. Working with models is an intimate process and I end up learning a lot about their lives and become their psychologist as well as an artist. I watch the models, and I watch for their brightest moments when they rise up, because those are the moments I want to capture.

GALO: The New York Times wrote in a review of your work that viewers “may be reminded of the time when Donatello and Rodin walked the earth.” How did it feel to be put into the same category as the aforementioned Renaissance masters?

SH: When I started art, I didn’t think there was any other type of art than traditional figurative art, so I have always worked within that framework of mastery. That’s all I think about, I don’t think about what’s on the other side of the fence. So, it felt natural to me.

GALO: Much like Leonardo da Vinci and Michelangelo you meticulously detail your sculptures by first sketching them on paper. There is even a whole section dedicated to this in the book, letting the reader view your process of thought and direction. Why do you find it important to first sketch the pieces before “getting your hands dirty,” so to speak?

SH: The sketches are more a way of conceiving the body. They are a record of how I break the body down into parts, and how I make the transitions between parts. The drawings at this point have morphed into the sculpture because of how much diagramming I do with the metal tool directly onto the clay. I use a small metal tool to help myself visualize on the clay how things spin in space on the figure.

GALO: During the course of a year, how many sculptures do you usually make? And how long does it take to make one sculpture?

SH: I can make a 28” to 36” figure in one year, working full time. A life size piece usually requires two years. The Apollo took 3,400 hours of life model work over a two-and-a-half year period. I’m not slowing down, I’m seeing more, and my works are becoming more complex.

GALO: Are you currently working on any specific projects?

SH: I am doing a 32” version of the Apollo sculpture. This piece is the same pose and gesture, but the feeling is very different. It has a more intimate, jewel-like quality than the large piece.

GALO: Your wife, Traci, was first inspired and developed a love for sculpture on a field trip to the museum when she viewed the Winged Victory of Samothrace at the Louvre. Did you yourself have such a moment of utter awe and fascination which paved the road to your career of choice, especially since you yourself were a frequent visitor of museums with your parents?

SH: That would be when I was 14 and saw the Medici tombs, and I was fascinated by the stonework and the structure of that work. At that time, I was heavily involved in wood-working. That was the first time I was awestruck by the similarity of the architecture and the human figure. It gave me the ambition of someday educating myself so I would have the ability and knowledge to make figurative art at that level. That day was a key element in reminding me of how sacred art can be. I had a truly visceral reaction.

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