ACADEMIC PAINTER: Artist Paul Mordetsky is shown with his painting “Montauk Beach,” lower left, at Phillips’ Mill in New Hope, Pa.
By Thomas Kelly
Paul Mordetsky is an academic painter. He studies, muses, observes, uses strong structure and creates solid work. He paints figures, dreamscapes, landscapes, and portraits in a variety of media. His landscapes appear familiar and comforting even if you have never been there. He taught visual art at Rutgers Prep School, Princeton Latin Academy, and Mercer County Community College. Now retired, he will be moving to Miami, Fla., after a last exhibition at the Arts Council of Princeton (ACP) June 5-13, with an opening reception on June 5 from 5-7 p.m. Mordetsky was for many years an art teacher, but for many more years a student of the arts.
What are you communicating with your art?
That is a hard question for me, because it’s complicated by different genres of work. At base, when I am doing observational painting, I would say that I hope to communicate the visual excitement of the world in the way colors harmonize, and how forms fit together. Light, however, transforms what we see in simple observation, and brings us to a transcendent, otherworldly feeling that I would call Beauty. That magic is what I hope to transmit to a viewer. Because I am not a realist, that capture occurs within a structure of visible brushwork, somewhat expanded color description, and strong design. Altogether, for me, that feels like a metaphor for the Universe. The image and the execution, together, bring the viewer to a heightened state. I will lift a little from art history and call it The Sublime.
When I work from photos, I am looking for all that, but more clearly trying to bend simple description into a feeling that what we are looking at isn’t quite the world as we see it, something a little dreamlike. That was the idea with my Brittany rock/seascapes, because that was what walking around there felt like.
When I started my Fire Paintings, I dropped all real-world references, and made them straight out a world of dreams, some ethereal zone where we “wander” psychically. I thought of many of those images as “dream factories,” as metaphors for the creative process.
You paint landscapes, figures, and portraits. Which are the most difficult and which are most fulfilling?
This is an easier question to answer. The most difficult are figures. I am just not a good figure painter, in any real grouping of figure painters. Portraits are next on the difficulty index, but I have been working at doing them, and I hit the mark increasingly effectively, by now. When I really nail a portrait, and get something of that painterly language operating strongly, that’s very fulfilling.
Landscapes are the easiest, because they offer the most latitude in how
we describe them. When I get one “right” (having that magic), they are closest to expressing the thoughts and feelings I described above. In that way, they remain the most fulfilling, and expressive of me.
Who were some of your influences and inspirations?
Another hard question, because, at this age, there are just too many to list succinctly. I had a teacher at the Philadelphia College of Art who became a friend, and mentor, David Fertig. I learned a lot from him about how to be an artist, what kind of person an artist could be. My other big mentor in art life was Morris Berd, a beloved teacher from Philadelphia College of Art, who also became a dear friend. He cemented, and expanded, what I got from Fertig.
Romare Bearden, an artist whose work I very much admire, wrote “I think the artist has to be something like a whale, swimming with his mouth open, absorbing everything until he has what he really needs.”
I am constantly looking at art across cultures, and through the ages, music, etc., as a constant source of inspiration.
You were a teacher for many years. What do you miss about not being in the classroom?
Almost nothing would be the easy answer, but it’s more nuanced than that.
I miss helping people to see the world differently, aiding them in their quests for the skills to represent the world, as they wish, and I miss watching them grow. Sometimes, I miss the actual lecturing, and demonstrations, but not enough to want to do it anymore. I do not miss any of the endless administrative, and/or preparatory tasks.
What fight/struggle do you have regarding your art? (studio space, money for supplies, physical limitations, time to create, recognition, sales, etc.?)
I have been lucky to have had good studio space for all of my professional life. Nothing fantastic that might look good in a magazine, but adequate space with good enough light. Mostly, I have had money for supplies (and now, in the throes of relocating, I wish I hadn’t bought so much). I am thankful that I have had a modicum of sales, and recognition, a pretty small scale, comparatively, but more than many people get. The biggest struggles have been with time, and skills acquisition. I went to art school at a time where how to paint things was not taught — all the classical, academic methodologies were, largely, tossed out the window. I have struggled to understand those practices and learn how to use them more effectively. That continues.
How often do you paint now that you have the time?
As much as I can, but my life, these past 10 years, was focused on caring for my wife during her descent into dementia. I did that, taught classes, and tried to keep my head above water. I did find the time to work, but I couldn’t really focus on “career” issues, showing work, etc.
The move to Miami, while having a basis in having future support from family, is focused on doing away with all the things that kept me from producing more work, and showing more often. I won’t have a house in need of repair, a garden screaming for care, and only me to attend to. The goal is to do one last body of work that sums it all up.
Are your landscapes places you have been to or blended from different sources?
Almost always, places I have been. Having said that, outside of onsite studies, most of the landscapes deviate from a simple notion of photographic representation.
Was there a lot of reminiscing looking at previous work in preparation for your exhibit at the Arts Council of Princeton?
Yes — the ACP show had its roots in helping me escape transporting tons of paintings to Miami, where I will have much less space for storing them. I have been pulling everything off the shelves, and out of the drawers, and reviewing. So much work is now in a landfill, or in bales of paper recycling. However, I found many works that I had forgotten about and was really happy to see. I also found abandoned works that called out to me to be finished. That’s been an interesting experience.
What is most fun about being an artist?
The world looks so great, for one thing. Also, I love that being an artist means learning so many different things — how to do this, and that, construction, color, and design, art history, history, music — everything, because everything finds its way into the work, even if it isn’t evident.
Do you see your work changing with your move to Florida in the coming year?
Not changing direction, radically, but deepening and expanding. For one, I want to go back to painting outside.
What is on the horizon? What are you looking forward to?
I am looking forward to having far fewer paintings of mine in my possession (which means that they will be on other people’s walls), my show at ACP, and this big move to Miami.
For me, that is ending a long chunk of my life and creating the opportunity to reinvent myself in a new environment. I am looking forward to being fully immersed in painting — with no restraints.
Finally, I am very much looking forward to never being cold again. Don’t ask me about the heat and humidity, though!
To learn more, visit paulmordetsky.artspan.com, facebook.com/paul.mordetsky, or instagram.com/paulmordetsky_painter.