Woodmen: John Buck and Ed Wicklander

Greg Kucera Gallery • Seattle, WA

I grew up cherishing my great-grandfather’s gold pocket watch, but mainly for the fob, which had a crest for the MWA, the Modern Woodsmen Association. I just knew that my great-grandad was a feisty lumberjack in the wilds of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, chopping trees and living large. It was only recently that I found out the MWA was a financial fraternal organization. The myth was shattered, but part of my personal history was developed around this myth. So, which myth matters? 

With this in mind, I relish the dual exhibitions that highlight two veteran storytellers at Greg Kucera Gallery. John Buck, born 1946, living in Montana and Hawaii, and Edward Wicklander, born 1952, living here in Seattle, are showing new work that reflects upon their earlier studies but continues to push forward. Both artists are consummate materials people—wood, glass, metals—and both are known for their eclectic sensibilities of subject matter and esoteric references. 

John Buck is showing thirteen ink-on-wood panel drawings. We best know Buck for his complex wood carvings and large-scale woodblock prints. Within this previous work, myriad references to societal woes and celebrations have been told to us in an almost rebus-like form. Objects take the place of words to make a mysterious novella. Many of the sculptures, carved primarily from jelutong, a light, soft wood, were based upon a figure, almost caryatid in form, with representational and abstract elements formally composed on and/or around it. They are unique in their vocabulary. His prints, also made on jelutong panels, usually have a central character (eagle, glass jar with a potato, abstract figure, etc.) surrounded by almost stream-of-consciousness line drawings that contrast and enhance the central character. The prints, made with master printer Bud Shark at Shark’s Inc., have intense color, in contrast to the usually bare wood sculptures. The prints and the sculptures can share imagery, sometimes quite directly (such as the aforementioned glass potato in a jar) and sometimes more tangentially and thematically. 

With this as a backstory, the new drawings are fresh, spare short stories. The complex lin work reflects Buck’s deep interest in self-taught artists, here notably Martin Ramirez, but also his former teacher William Wiley and perhaps a bit of R. Crumb. The strange landscapes, notably “Cape Disappointment, Washington State” (2024), make me think of Caspar David Friedrich and his sublime vistas, but the unmade graphic novel version. There is warmth to the drawings, the black ballpoint ink absorbing into the soft jelutong surface. Buck talks about how these images came from old engravings he found in books on the American West in his collection. They do have a period feel to them. They can be straightforward, such as “Gould & Curry Mine” (2025), depicting a Vanessa Helder-like mining camp, or they can be very odd, like “Polar Bear from the Cascades” (2025), fur doused and mangy, looking like it spent a night in the mosh pit. And then there is “Up the Missouri” (2024), with a band of hoodoo ghouls alongside the river. (Keep this in mind as we look at Wicklander’s work.)

The companion show is new works by Seattle artist Edward (“Call me Ed.”) Wicklander, his twelfth show with the gallery. Wicklander has an incredibly deep knowledge of self-taught artists in the U.S., and his works express that abiding appreciation. He went to school in Ellensburg when noted jeweler and bricoleur Ken Cory was there, and then decamped to Chicago for a period of study. The heady mix of West Coast Funk and Hairy Who is resplendent in Wicklander’s idiosyncratic use of media and image. 

I have been looking at his works for many years, and I really never know what to expect in terms of subject matter. 

Okay, I take that back. There will always be cats. in various states of anxiety, including “Pissed Kitten” (2026). I recognize my own coolness towards cats, but I am sure that these delightful pieces will find good homes. It may be the current season or the evening news that has me more intrigued with the three oval vignetted wall pieces. “Night Passenger” (2026), is Tim Burton adjacent but in a good way. The central character of the grimacing, garroted ghost is like an opening line to a horror story, or a memory of Buck’s hoodoo figures. The two “Affordable Housing” pieces should be placed in the Mayor’s office as they are less-than-subtle reminders of the woes of the big city.

Going back to the idea of myth-making, these artists create their own worlds and populate them with some real odd bodkins. The scenes they set and the characters they introduce us to make us more secure in our own strange normalcies. Their visions are perhaps a bit dark, perhaps a bit off-kilter, and perhaps they laugh a little too loud. But these days, aren’t we all feeling that too?  

Milton Freewater

Milton Freewater is an arts writer living in Seattle, Washington.

“John Buck: New Works” and “Ed Wicklander: My Labor” are on view Tuesday through Saturday, from 10:30 a.m.  to 5:30 p.m. until December 22 at Greg Kucera Gallery, located at 212 - 3rd Avenue South in Seattle, Washington. Visit www.gregkucera.com for information.