Michael Holloway

R. Michael Holloway was the long-haired maverick sort of high school student who A-ced calculus, English and chemistry classes but settled for F's in typing and tennis.

His senior English essay wowed his high school teacher; she said it was the best she had ever seen. Still, his overall high school GPA made him questionable college material.

“If a subject didn't hold my attention, I just didn't want to waste the time I knew could be better spent elsewhere, and when I felt like that about a subject, I just didn't go to the class,” says the now 44-year-old Holloway, a lean volleyball-playing athlete with his once again long hair pony-tailed down his back.

Yet, this is the same Fort Worth native who graduated in 1984 from Texas Christian University with a bachelors of business administration/finance degree.

And he is the same self confessed “late bloomer” and football athlete whose coming 17-year accounting career would see him tackle personal business manager roles, in succession, for the wealthy Elton Hyder and Tommy Taylor families of Fort Worth.

Then in spring 2001 – his business, estate, trust and investment management and accounting future already secured by his praised and highly paid work for the two Fort Worth multimillionaires, their children and grandchildren – Holloway chucked it all for “something completely different”: an independent career in the business of art.

Now, that 1976-'80 teen “attitude” of his would seem to fit the stereotype of Holloway's role as founder of The Iron Chinchilla Functional Art Studio.

Startling his friends and business associates in spring 2001, he shucked his “staid, quiet accounting” persona, his six figure check, his ties, three-piece suits and shined shoes.

Opting for jeans and boots, Holloway morphed into a self-styled “artistic marketing maverick” and created the Iron Chinchilla with self-styled “manic metal artist” Patrick Neuwirth.

But, like his accounting alter ego, this mature Holloway is intensely focused.

In just over four years, Holloway's marketing and business management has channeled Iron Chinchilla's whimsical, sometimes wacky, weird and inspirational designs – all sturdy, top-quality furniture and accessories – into more than 200 galleries in 32 states plus Washington , D.C.

“Though I can't prove it,” he said, “we probably have retail pieces in homes, apartments or offices in every state. We have also shipped pieces to Germany and England . That's good progress for a company that was pulled out of the dirt only four years ago.”

Clientele, journalists and even Holloway agree that many of the Iron Chinchilla's works evoke Dr. Seuss, Alice in Wonderland and Beetlejuice illusions of metal in fluid motion or skewed balance.

Holloway's Iron Chinchilla metamorphosis began cautiously in spring 2001, considering the venture while still working as Tommy Taylor's private business manager. For Taylor , then investment ramrod for the famous billionaire Bass Enterprises brothers, Holloway worked as an officer or director of 11 corporations and as trustee of six trusts.

As business “quarterback” for Taylor over a five year period, he formulated budgets; oversaw construction; bought and sold homes, villas, yachts, airplanes, land and other personal properties; tracked income, cash flow and expenditures; set up trusts; oversaw all accounting and legal functions and acted as the liaison between Taylor and Bass Brother commingled investments.

Prior to the Taylor job, Holloway had served as chief financial officer and operations manager for Elton Hyder's family and personal investments, including three corporations and three partnerships in real estate development and/or management, three estates, two private foundations, oil and gas royalties and other finances.

Previously Holloway had been chief accountant for the Fort Worth State School .

“After 17 years of working for someone else,” Holloway recalled deciding, “It would be a lot of fun to do something entirely different. . . . I turned off my mind and listened to my inner self for direction. I always liked the idea of reincarnation” Holloway said playfully, “I'm not sure I'll get a chance to live a completely new life in a new body at some point in the future so I thought it best to live as many lives in the one body that I have”.

In June 2001, Holloway was decided: “I wanted to create a niche industry where people could find something very different,” he said. “I was tired of going from store to store and finding the same designs over and over. I wanted to bring something new and unusual to light. I had a silent knowing that Patrick and I contained within us just the right mixture of talent to make it work.” He committed $40,000 to the startup art-as-business concept.

The idea was to foster “unfettered artistic creativity” within the parameters of “designing and hand-making functional furnishings” for the home or office – and “creating a niche industry” by selling the one-of-a-kind results. Holloway and Neuwirth set up in Neuwirth's garage with the appropriate tools and an agreed upon set of designs. “I had a strong feeling from the outset that this concept was going to be successful,” said Holloway

Holloway's timing, obviously through no fault of his own, wasn't exactly propitious.

Under Holloway's “trial” investment, the duo worked all summer preparing for The Iron Chinchilla's September 2001 debut art show in Southlake's Classic Café. At that point, Holloway figures he had about $9,000 invested in raw materials, equipment, Neuwirth's weekly pay, and $3,000 for the one-night Classic Café rental.

The “coming-out” fizzled on that scheduled Sept. 15 night. Four days after the 9/11 terrorism attacks shocked the world, only 28 of more than 200 invitation-only guests attended – “nearly all family and friends” – prompting Neuwirth to think Holloway would cut his losses and walk away from the venture.

“I don't believe in outward signs determining my providence,” Holloway said. “It was all so gloomy, tragic, an invasion on our soil, but such an event wasn't going to decide this venture for me. I was not going to let that happen.”

He had yet to deplete his budget. “I was going to let the world cool down a little bit, throw some more money at it and get back in the game somewhere, down the road,” Holloway said.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

With Holloway growing his list of client galleries proliferating under his reliable service from two galleries in 2002 to more than 200 galleries nationwide this summer, the welding sparks have been flying hot and heavy as Hollloway, Neuwirth and apprentices hand-bend, -weld and –burnish Iron Chinchilla's original designs in the custom-equipped, no-automation 6,000 square foot studio.

Holloway works seven days a week sometimes for months at a time attending numerous art shows across the county. He is also the hands on business manager for the Iron Chinchilla having to personally handle every aspect of the business.

What partnered Holloway and Neuwirth, two men of mostly paradoxical personalities, it turned out, was their desire to wage “an attack on sameness.” “Don't even bother to come here if your looking for something predictable or a cookie-cutter design,” warned Holloway at the 711 Katy Road studio-gallery. The two have ensured no chance for duplication: The studio has no dyes, casts, other pre-set forms, blueprints, other fixed designs and no mechanized automation. Hand-wielded welders, saws, sanders, polishers and vises are the only tools.

Holloway is the former “quiet accountant,” and introvert Christian who loves his pet dogs like children and independent thinker who loves numbers, gaming, the Fort Worth Symphony, TCU football and, also as an canvas artist in his own right, cherishes his own private painting and drawing.

At TCU, Holloway found his love for business math: “It's nice when you can take all these huge numbers from all these crazy sources and bring them into all one thing that makes sense, and everybody can go, ‘aahhh, I get it.' ”

He adds: “If something is not done right down to the penny, it'll hit on me. I'll play with it until it gets done, but I don't let that task take my vision away from the bigger picture.”

In addition to the multitude of other duties Holloway also has responsibility for the grueling traveling schedule displaying the creations at four wholesale and twenty retail shows each year all over the country. “I am away from home more days than at home right now. But that is changing as we are just beginning to be accepted into the top 10 ranked shows in the country. As a direct result of being accepted to the best shows I'll be participating in a fewer number of shows while putting more to the bottom line, and be able to spend more time in Fort Worth.”

Says Holloway: “We are a bit of an anomaly right now. We are taking something functional and making it art….and taking art and making it functional. We have almost no competition at these shows. The unusual aspect of the Iron Chinchilla creations allows me to sell more, which allows the art to grow freely, which allows me to sell more. The process of creating and selling feeds on itself.”

One of The Iron Chinchilla's earliest clients, Uncommon Angles gallery owner Judy Shelton of Fort Worth was impressed: “I knew he would do well,” she said recently. “Michael, he's very professional. He's just very accommodating. He did his homework. He tries to save my gallery money.”

Hyder said he was surprised by Holloway's art move but not by his success.

“Michael brought competency, integrity and stability to our businesses and foundations,” Hyder said. “I could rely on the numbers.”

Hyder also praised Holloway's multi-tasking, handling of the complexities of foundations, estates, trusts, real estate and corporations, and “saving me from one very expensive mistake.” At a time, the early 1990s, when computer software reliability was tough to evaluate, Holloway “was kind of my headlights” to evaluate the prospective new computer systems for one to meld into the family businesses, Hyder said.

“I'm a fan of people who look inside themselves and take that leap, sort of shedding their skin and becoming someone else,” Hyder said. “Michael has done that. He's so different, so hands-on, so creative. . . . Few people take that leap. I just really find it courageous.”

Dwayne David Hitt, a Fort Worth-based business and corporate lawyer, first met Holloway when they were freshmen considering pledging a TCU fraternity in 1980.

“My first impression of Michael was, ‘He's kind-a cool.' Not in the Fonzy way but in a truly unflappable way. Nothing ruffled him,” said Hitt, who served as recording secretary to Holloway's president of Delta Tau Delta.

“He was a guy's guy,” Hitt said. “Everybody liked him, and that's rare among 40 young, hormone-charged men. They voted him ‘Best Brother.' . . . He was deserving.”

Holloway wasn't a schmoozer, but more like a Holden Caulfield looking after the frat brothers, “catching in the rye” those who drank too much or had school or girl problems, Hitt said. “He was the kind of guy you go to, naturally, the older brother.”

Holloway recalls, “I didn't even plan on going to college. It just kind of happened at the last minute. . . . I never think in terms of what I am going to do tomorrow. My thoughts are always focused on today, this moment.”

Hitt said he's impressed with Holloway's passion for The Iron Chinchilla, driving the nation regularly to market Iron Chinchilla's creations.

“He sees the work being bigger than himself,” Hitt said.

Holloway mused, “My ultimate goal in life is to become the kind of person my dog thinks I am.”