This exhibition of paintings and collages by the Decatur, Georgia, artist Randy S. Jones, whose work was also featured in Esopus 25 (2018), took place at the same location (64 West Third Street in Greenwich Village) that had housed Esopus Space, the exhibition and performance venue operated by the Esopus Foundation from 2009 to 2012. As it turns out, the location was in between commercial tenants when we were organizing the event and was available for a short-term rental. Holding both Randy’s show and the launch event for our final issue at this space felt to me like a perfect way to complete the circle of Esopus.

It’s tempting to apply the overused (and, some might argue, reductive) term of “outsider art” to Randy’s work, but it seems more fitting to describe him as an “insider artist,” in the most literal sense: For more than four decades, the retired lawyer diligently worked in the confines of his house on hundreds of boldly rendered abstract artworks that virtually no one had ever seen.

The Esopus Space exhibition featured several large-scale oil paintings, which at a distance appear to be rigorous hard-edge abstractions in the manner of Frank Stella or Richard Anuszkiewicz. Upon closer examination, it is apparent that Jones has painted all of these with a free hand, imbuing the work with an expressive quality that isn’t typically associated with geometric abstraction. Jones described his improvisatory process in an interview in Esopus 25: “When you start doing a picture, you don’t know how it’s going to end up. Because one mark, one expression, may lead to another avenue. That’s the reason I like abstraction, because it gives you so much freedom. There are no limits.” Jones employed a similar spontaneity with his collages—cool, nuanced abstractions that at first glance evoke works by Agnes Martin or Peter Halley—which he creates with duct tape, drywall joint tape, scraps of wood, and other materials he has scavenged “from the curb” in his suburban neighborhood. “You’d be surprised what people throw out,” he said. “Anything can be used as artwork.”

At the time, Randy happened to live across the street from photographer David Naugle, who, when he was living in upstate New Yor several decades ago, introduced me to the stunning photographs of his neighbor Mark Hogancamp, which we debuted in Esopus 5 (“Marwencol on My Mind”). David similarly brought Randy and his art to my attention in 2017.