Each hockey season, one Pacific Northwest artist is selected to design a merchandise collection that benefits One Roof Foundation’s environmental justice pillar, which aims to help ensure all youth have clean air to breathe, clean water to drink, and clean and safe places to gather and play. “This is the fourth year of our local artist program at Climate Pledge Arena,” says Quinn Ianniciello, Creative Director for The Climate Pledge. “We’re thrilled with how this initiative provides regional artists with the opportunity to express their artwork through the lens of the climate crisis. It’s yielded some powerful—and beautiful—product designs."

For the Kraken’s debut 2021–22 season, that artist was illustrator Erin Wallace, who creates whimsical pieces with a touch of floral and food motifs. In 2022–23, the local artist was Jen Ament, known for her thought-provoking linocut prints and murals. Last season, we worked with muralist and illustrator Sarah Robbins, whose work creates evocative, naturalist worlds.

This season, it’s Toka Valu, a Tonga-born artist and illustrator and former University of Washington rugby player. He’d spent more than a decade working in the university’s Office of Minority Affairs & Diversity before deciding to focus full-time on the ink-and-cloth design artwork creations inspired by his Pacific Islander upbringing.

We sat down with Valu to hear more about his background and the inspiration behind his “Our Eco Kin” collection designs.

Tell us a little bit about your background as an artist.

I’ve been an artist all my life. I was born and raised in the Kingdom of Tonga and came here in 1997. The art I had focused on was just ink and paper. So, that’s really what I’ve been focused on and a lot of it is cultural. And in the past six or seven years, I’ve been really focused on trying to make it—make a run at what it might look like as a career.

So, in 2019, I left the University of Washington. I’d worked there for 10 years, never putting down the art. But then I took a really serious run at this right before the pandemic and it’s worked out pretty well ever since. Just a few gigs here and there and then of course the big one with you folks and Climate Pledge Arena. It’s been an amazing dream so far.

Why is this type of art meaningful to you?

It was what I grew up around when I was a kid. Very much bold, black lines. Very much influenced by the bark cloth from the Kingdom of Tonga—a lot of bold, black lines there—but also comic books. I was an avid comic book reader growing up and a lot of my figures look comic book-inspired.

Coming out here in ’97, when I was 14, a lot of my experience has also been a significant part of how I draw and what I think about when I do these things. It’s meaningful in the sense that it’s an expression of who I am culturally. But especially also just who I am as a cultural man here in the Northwest.

There aren't many of us Pacific folks in this industry. Most of us are in athletics. So, this is my part in helping inspire a different route for some of the young people.

You said others like you were in athletics. What sports did you play?

I was in rugby. Tonga is a rugby country, like Samoa or New Zealand. So, that was the sport I was in. When I came out here, it was football. I was super confused by football and didn’t understand it. I tried it out and it didn’t get me anywhere. But I continued to pursue my education at the University of Washington in 2003 when I obtained my permanent residency card and played rugby for a bit. It’s been an interesting ride.

What inspired your designs for this project?

I thought of the environment as our “kin,” right? Like family. When you think of family, you treat them a little differently and are a bit more attentive to their needs.

The personification I came up with was one of earth, of ocean, and then of climate. So, for climate, I did an old, elderly man. Like an old, old grandfather. For the ocean, I did kind of a little brother. A rambunctious, real little brother. There’s a lot of energy in that particular piece. And the earth one I kind of envisioned as a mother. I recently lost my mother in 2017. I lost my brother in 2022. And my grandfather, who was like a father to me, I lost in 1998. So, the three of them were very much in mind when I was doing these pieces.

Basically, if we treat our environment—our ecosystem—like our kin, we’re going to be more attentive to what it’s trying to tell us as far as taking care of the climate, taking care of the ocean, and taking care of the land. So, that’s what was really at the heart of it.

How does designing a collection for an arena shop differ from other work you’ve done?

Once I started drawing and sketching it just came out. I’d been given the three prompts to work with—that being the ocean, land, and climate. And so, as I was sketching, the three people that came to mind were the folks that were near and dear to me that I’d recently lost.

Do you find there is more of an acceptance for your type of art now than in the past? If so, why is that?

There are more and more people, not just in my own community but I think regionally and even throughout the world in general for whom—particularly after the pandemic when everybody was so stressed—art really plays a major role in helping to lose yourself in the creative juice that helps us feel better about what might be going on in our lives.

I think the pandemic had a hand in helping people with their own perspectives about what art might help do. And I definitely think that, compared to 20 or 30 years ago, there’s much more of an acceptance of art in general. I do think it’s shifting and I think it’s a great thing for everyone involved.

What impact does your sports fandom have on the artwork you’ve produced?

I talk about my art being this exploration of what relationships look like. And I think sports really provide an interesting relationship among people who are cheering for the home team. Even if it’s momentary. I really think sports is an interesting relationship, especially when it’s one that provides a moment we can all aspire to as far as the elation—the joy—of watching a team win. I definitely think this joy—that’s what I really want to focus on and tease out what it might look like on paper in my art. 

What do you think of the arena itself? Do you have any favorite areas?

It would have to be the living wall. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it but—the name should have given it away—I didn’t think it was real plants [when I first saw it]. But upon looking at it closely, I just love that wall, and of course, that’s where the Climate Pledge merchandise is located.

Also, I think the lower-level atrium—that’s awesome. I’d been to KeyArena when the Sonics were still here and that arena now looks just totally amazing. The Lair is right there. You’ve got the bars and everything. It’s just amazing.

Does the arena’s dedication to climate action make this any more special a collaboration for you?

Definitely. For Tongans, culturally, sustainability is woven into who we are. How we create our art is very much in line with sustainability. So, of course, when we had to practice that out here in the United States, we didn’t have as much access to certain natural materials as we would back in the islands. But the idea of the practice of sustainability is there. And I love that Climate Pledge [Arena] is moving down that particular road, whether it’s in how the building was constructed, how much energy it consumes, the products that it serves out of its concessions stands, and everything like that. I just love that there’s that tiny callout to just feeling seen in a space like that.

This article was originally published by the Seattle Kraken and was edited for space and clarity.