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Crystal Kaakeeyáa Worl, an artist in Juneau, Alaska, who specializes in public artworks and runs a design shop with her brother, poses with her mural of human rights activist Elizabeth Peratrovich
Crystal Kaakeeyáa Worl, an artist in Juneau, Alaska, who specializes in public artworks and runs a design shop with her brother, poses with her mural of human rights activist Elizabeth Peratrovich. Photo courtesy of Konrad Frank

Coastal Job: Creator of Indigenous Public Artwork

Crystal Kaakeeyáa Worl brings her Tlingit-Athabascan artistic sensibilities to the urban spaces of southeast Alaska.

Authored by

As told to Tim Lydon

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Some people work in cubicles, others work in kitchens, but the most intriguing workplace of all may be the coast. Meet the people who head to the ocean instead of the office in our Coastal Jobs series.

Crystal Kaakeeyáa Worl is a Tlingit-Athabascan artist in Juneau, Alaska. She infuses graphic mixed-media work into the built environment, with designs featured on an ambulance and a sidewalk in Juneau and briefly on a bus in Seattle, Washington. Her most recent installation—an eight-by-20-meter mural above the cruise ship docks in downtown Juneau—celebrates Tlingit civil rights icon Elizabeth Peratrovich.

I started studying public art three years ago. I got into it by watching my older brother Rico. He’s an incredible guide.

Until recently, there’s been little Indigenous representation in public art in Juneau, or even in Alaska. Thousands of people come here on cruise ships, and I want to “Indigify” our public spaces to help educate visitors—and locals—about our culture. To say, We exist. We’re real people who are part of this community. I hope my work helps other Indigenous artists get represented, too.

I’m Tlingit-Athabascan, so I incorporate traditional form-line design into my art, but I use contemporary bright and bold contrasting colors. That’s to make the statement that being Indigenous is not a thing of the past but is very much thriving now.

The mural commemorates Elizabeth Peratrovich for the incredible work she did against discrimination. I’m super proud that she’s a Lukaax.ádi—Sockeye Salmon—clan member, the same as me. I learned about her when I was young. Books my family gave me explained how in 1945, she and her family and community worked together to have the first anti-discrimination law passed in the United States.

The mural is on the Juneau library, facing the water. In our culture, it’s important that we install art and totem poles facing the water. It’s at a spot where people are out walking every day, and it’s the first thing visitors see when they come off the dock. You can even see it from the airplane as you fly into town.

The salmon eggs and ocean in the mural show how the land is a huge influence for me. In both Tlingit and Athabascan culture, it’s important that we acknowledge our land and the animals as part of us, because no one exists without them. Like with the salmon that return every year: they feed us. And their bodies bring nitrogen to the land, which makes the Tongass forest lush and beautiful.

It’s cool to look at the mural in different weather. On a sunny day, the sun painted behind Elizabeth Peratrovich’s image glows. It makes her radiate. And at certain times of day, the sun reflects off the water and dances on the mural with soft, lively golden light.

It was supposed to be installed a year earlier, but Covid happened. And the paint, adhesive, and sealant I needed were bottlenecked for months in Texas because of a flood. I had the image printed by a company in Philadelphia that does high-res imagery on mural cloth. Then five apprentices helped me apply mural paint to it. After that, the process is to affix the painted cloth to the wall with adhesive gel, do touch-ups, and finish with two layers of sealant.

We finally put it up in September 2021, which is not a month you want to install a mural in Juneau because it’s very rainy and starting to get too cold for the sealant to work properly. There were so many challenges, like the wall was too moist, then it was too windy, then too dark. And when I was doing touch-ups, rain started making the paint run. It looked like the mural was crying, and I started crying. We were up on the lift, freezing cold, fixing it until midnight. Then the paint stained the library wall below the mural, which we had to clean. It was utter chaos.

I’m thankful it’s finally done and that it makes people in the community feel pride and excitement.

But holy cats, man, that was a lot of work.