Richard John Gess
September 9, 1952 ~ April 22, 2024
Born in:
Toledo, Ohio
Resided in:
Decatur, Georgia
Richard John Gess (9/9/1952, Toledo, OH—4/22/2024, Decatur, GA) was a man of many parts. He published fiction (e.g. in Lady Churchill’s Rosebud Wristlet), art reviews (e.g. in Art Papers), and critical essays (e.g. in TDR). He named the journal Slayage. He was a photographer and video artist who participated in juried events and solo shows; he was a longtime leader in Atlanta’s Eyedrum art co-op and curated shows such as All Small. He was a drummer, bassist, and songwriter for several bands, including Metamatics (with Ronnie Batson), Tinnitus (with Robert Cheatham), and Argon Connection (with Brett Cox, Jeanne Beckwith, Steve Haase, and Rhonda Wilcox). For over thirty years, he worked at Emory University’s Woodruff Library cataloging serials and rare books. He was witty and widely read; he knew an enormous amount about an astonishing breadth of subjects and took pleasure in the knowledge, while never making others feel diminished. He said that he had grown kinder with age, but those who knew him always remember his great generosity of spirit. He helped many other writers (including Stacia Pelletier, Laura King, Nick Twemlow, Ben Cohen, and Victoria Navarra).
He was the loving husband, for 41 years, of writer Rhonda V. Wilcox; the proud father of artist Jeff Gess (Nicole); and the delighted grandfather of Ethan Matias Gess. He is survived by them and his sister Polly Gess Malohn (Jim); sister-in-law Marsha Wilcox; brother-in-law Patrick Wilcox (Lisa); and many bereft nephews and nieces. He died of cancer after a rare reaction to immunotherapy hastened his end. If he had composed this obituary, it would have been better written.
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I’m stunned by this news. Richard was one of the sweetest and funniest guys I have ever known. We overlapped in running Eyedrum for several years, just another one of the guys showing up week after week making s–t happen, and the mood at the place was always lighter when he was there. My deepest condolences to Rhonda and the entire extended family.
Richard was my friend. We emailed each other regularly about our respective novels-in-progress over six or more years, through the pandemic and out on the other side of it. He never failed to make me think, to make me laugh with his incisive observations, and to make me feel better about the creative process and about the writer’s life–even as he also keenly understood how difficult and lonely that process can be. I will miss him dearly.
I recall something about Richard which only later did I realize contributed to my own self-improvement. In many cases where I’d say something critical about an artist’s or musician’s work, Richard would pause and have a look or patient consideration. I later understood in this a pause one can take, a wondering really if the value of such criticism exists, or rather that such words are not of a positive use, either to others but definitely to onself. Thank you, Richard, for this kindness to me.
Rick always said life was slow blur. That said, I lost my best friend way too fast… Love you always… ‘Shuttle Up’