Bill Lynch’s work was never shown while he was alive. He died in 2013, at 53, and during his life suffered from schizophrenia. Born in New Mexico and raised in New Jersey, Lynch attended Cooper Union in New York. He painted on paper and did oil paintings on discarded plywood he found along city streets. These paintings are spare, often working knots and nails into the image, and his brushstrokes, spontaneous and poetically powerful, suggest Chinese calligraphy. A wanderer in the world, Lynch was an artist of essences. With his death, his art has found its way into galleries, bringing him the admiration he always deserved. —Laura Jacobs