A friend who, unbeknownst to me, also knew him once quipped, “there are seven degrees of Alrik.”
Space and time.
Those are the two most indispensable materials relied upon by sculptor, painter, and surfboard shaper Alrik Yuill.
A painting of Yuill’s will be exhibited to the public one month, only to be returned to, pored over and deepened over the next year or more, the artist’s signature wells of cyan, ochre, and magenta appearing sporadically yet assuredly.
And regardless of the particular medium he chooses to engage, Alrik remains true to this process; his sculptures are subject to similar trials of inception and revision, construction and transformation. In addition to the mostly-female, occasionally self-representational figures he fashions from clay and wax, Alrik sculpts in foam and resin, utilizing a corner of his warehouse that he’s configured into a shaping bay. Even the human forms he first extracts and then casts in bronze, plaster, and resin live eternally in nearly-unfinished relief, each edge still raw from the impressions of Alrik’s tools. Like the rest of Alrik’s creations, his Space Time shapes are never set in stone. Endlessly tweaked, the resulting boards are the product of countless iterations, hours spent shaping, and an equal amount of time dedicated to surfing. Employing everything he learns in the water to help create what he wants to see in the world – which, like his art, changes with experience – Alrik’s shaping style parallels his signature approach to other artistic endeavors, pushing boundaries and underscoring shared roots across mediums not usually held up side-by-side.