Jurgis Motiekaitis

 

"When I look at a scene I do not see objects and people. I see lines, forms and special relationships." This could be a quote from the sixth century Greek philosopher Pythagoras. However, the above are the words of artist Jurgis Motiekaitis. After a distinguished career as one of the most highly sought after photographers on the West Coast, his world is a nexus of lines, a composition of geometric precision, that he gathers and translates onto a canvas in oil paint. Noted for his perfectionism and mental focus, he has at various times stood rooted to frame a photo with live ammunition flying past, with a speeding train bearing down on him, and in one case, while photographing a fire, until his clothing began to smolder. Jurgis brings this kind of intensity and exacting detail to his painting as well. 

Jurgis and his parents left their homeland of Lithuania during the turmoil of World War II, to escape the terror of the approaching Russian occupation of the country. Since early childhood he was brought up in a musical atmosphere. His father was a distinguished violinist of Lithuania and held positions as a professor of the State Conservatory of Music, concertmaster and conductor of the Radio Symphony Orchestra in the capital city of Vilnius . His older brother, after migrating to the United States was engaged as a principal cellist with the Buffalo Philharmonic Orchestra, and later joined the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra and was invited to join the Sydney Symphony Orchestra in Australia . With so great an influence it is only natural that Jurgis would frequently employ the musical idiom in his art. 

The world of Jurgis Motiekaitis, both the natural and synthetic, is embued with form. The triangle, the rectangle and the trapezoid are always present. The analogy with musical form is so compelling that many of his paintings are homages to, and entitled for, compositions by Bach, Beethoven and Brahms. With a Studied inspection one can see correspondences. For instance, a light and flowing melody by Brahms would demand more flowing shapes and brighter colors. It would be infused with light, continuity of line, shape and form. If, however, the inspiration is Bach's "Toccata and Fugue in D Minor," the decisive pauses and crescendos would invoke stronger divisions and the treatment of light would be wholly different. 

Jurgis recalls that his father, upon being asked to describe Bach, once referred to him as "a sea of geometry." The same could be said for Jugis' painting. His patterns and colors are not the product of an esoteric theory, nor are they mimetic. The colors are "felt colors." If the artist wishes to capture a sunset, he does not aim to reproduce the actual colors present. Instead, there is feeling that accompanied the experience of the sunset. It is this feeling that must be evinced through his painting. Thus, just as his composition is idealized, so is his use of color. This is not only true of single hues, but also of combinations. Gradations of color might be used to express the musical form of theme and variation. Likewise, musical dissonance translates into color dissonance.

Frequently suspended in these fields of geometric symmetry are carefully rendered objects, such as a heavenly body, a fish or a musical instrument. In a painting of the artist's brother, the cello is complimented by the cellist's hands and face appearing as if out of thin air. The few concessions to representation are designed to speak to the viewer. Every painter must create a language by which he means to address his audience. Not every viewer is prepared to "read" the artist's language though. Jugis' Geometric grids are by no means obvious or easy. Ergo, he creates a bridge or a portal. The viewer is at first drawn to the rendered object, and only after begins to read the intricacies of the composition. Just so, Jurgis Motiekaitis extends this invitation to share his unique artistic vision of, and feeling for, his world. 

Doug Deaver Ph.D.