Exploring Lisa Herfeldt's Eerie Sealant-Based Art: Where Things Feel Alive
Should you be thinking about washroom remodeling, it's advisable not to choose engaging the sculptor for such tasks.
Truly, Herfeldt is highly skilled with a silicone gun, crafting intriguing sculptures with a surprising substance. However the more examine these pieces, the more it becomes apparent that an element feels slightly strange.
The dense lengths made of silicone she crafts stretch over display surfaces on which they sit, sagging downwards towards the floor. The knotty foam pipes expand before bursting open. A few artworks escape their transparent enclosures entirely, becoming an attractor for grime and particles. One could imagine the reviews would not be positive.
There are moments I feel an impression that things seem animated inside an area,” remarks the German artist. This is why I started using this substance due to its such an organic feel and appearance.”
Indeed there’s something somewhat grotesque about the artist's creations, from the phallic bulge that protrudes, like a medical condition, from the support at the exhibition's heart, or the gut-like spirals from the material that rupture like medical emergencies. On one wall, Herfeldt has framed images depicting the sculptures viewed from different angles: they look like wormy parasites seen in scientific samples, or colonies in a lab setting.
“It interests me is the idea within us occurring which possess a life of their own,” she says. “Things which remain unseen or manage.”
Talking of unmanageable factors, the poster promoting the event features a picture showing a dripping roof at her creative space in the German capital. Constructed erected decades ago as she explains, faced immediate dislike from residents since many older edifices got demolished for its development. By the time run-down when Herfeldt – originally from Munich yet raised north of Hamburg before arriving in Berlin in her youth – took up residence.
The rundown building was frustrating for the artist – she couldn’t hang her pieces without concern potential harm – however, it was fascinating. Without any blueprints available, nobody had a clue the way to fix the malfunctions which occurred. When the ceiling panel in Herfeldt’s studio was saturated enough it fell apart fully, the only solution meant swapping the panel with a new one – thus repeating the process.
Elsewhere on the property, the artist explains dripping was extreme that several shower basins were set up within the drop ceiling to divert the moisture elsewhere.
I understood that the building was like a body, a completely flawed entity,” Herfeldt states.
The situation brought to mind Dark Star, the director's first movie from the seventies about an AI-powered spacecraft which becomes autonomous. As the exhibition's title suggests from the show’s title – three distinct names – that’s not the only film to have influenced Herfeldt’s show. These titles point to main characters in Friday 13th, Halloween and Alien as listed. The artist references a critical analysis by the American professor, which identifies these “final girls” a distinctive cinematic theme – female characters isolated to save the day.
They often display toughness, on the silent side and they endure thanks to resourcefulness,” says Herfeldt about such characters. “They don’t take drugs or engage intimately. And it doesn’t matter who is watching, everyone can relate to this character.”
The artist identifies a parallel linking these figures with her creations – objects which only holding in place under strain they face. Is the exhibition focused on societal collapse rather than simply leaky ceilings? Because like so many institutions, substances like silicone intended to secure and shield against harm are actually slowly eroding within society.
“Oh, totally,” says Herfeldt.
Before finding inspiration with sealant applicators, she experimented with different unconventional substances. Past displays included organic-looking pieces using the kind of nylon fabric found in on a sleeping bag or inside a jacket. Similarly, one finds the impression these strange items seem lifelike – a few are compressed as insects in motion, some droop heavily off surfaces or spill across doorways gathering grime from contact (Herfeldt encourages viewers to touch leaving marks on pieces). Similar to the foam artworks, these nylon creations are similarly displayed in – and breaking out of – budget-style transparent cases. They’re ugly looking things, which is intentional.
“The sculptures exhibit a specific look that somehow you feel highly drawn to, while also they’re very disgusting,” Herfeldt remarks grinning. “It attempts to seem not there, however, it is highly noticeable.”
The artist does not create pieces that offer comfortable or aesthetically soothed. Conversely, her intention is to evoke uncomfortable, awkward, maybe even amused. However, should you notice a moist sensation from above too, don’t say you haven’t been warned.