Exploring Lisa Herfeldt's Sinister Sealant-Based Sculptures: In Which Objects Appear Alive
Should you be thinking about bathroom renovations, it's advisable to avoid engaging this German artist to handle it.
Certainly, she's a whiz using sealant applicators, crafting fascinating artworks with a surprising medium. But the more examine these pieces, the stronger you realise a certain aspect seems somewhat unnerving.
The thick strands made of silicone Herfeldt forms extend past the shelves supporting them, drooping over the sides below. Those twisted foam pipes expand before bursting open. Some creations escape their transparent enclosures completely, becoming an attractor for dust and hair. It's safe to say the ratings are unlikely to earn positive.
“I sometimes have this sense that things seem animated in a room,” remarks the German artist. Hence I came to use silicone sealant due to its such an organic texture and feeling.”
Certainly there is an element somewhat grotesque regarding the artist's creations, starting with that protruding shape that protrudes, similar to a rupture, from its cylindrical stand in the centre of the gallery, or the gut-like spirals of foam that rupture resembling bodily failures. Along a surface, are mounted images depicting the sculptures seen from various perspectives: resembling microscopic invaders observed under magnification, or colonies on a petri-dish.
“It interests me is the idea in our bodies taking place that seem to hold a life of their own,” Herfeldt explains. Phenomena which remain unseen or control.”
Regarding elements beyond her influence, the poster promoting the event features a photograph showing a dripping roof at her creative space in the German capital. It was built in the early 1970s as she explains, was quickly despised among the community as numerous old buildings got demolished to allow its construction. By the time in a state of disrepair as the artist – who was born in Munich yet raised in northern Germany before arriving in Berlin in her youth – moved in.
This decrepit property proved challenging for her work – placing artworks was difficult her pieces without concern risk of ruin – but it was also intriguing. With no building plans available, it was unclear how to repair any of the issues that arose. When the ceiling panel in Herfeldt’s studio became so sodden it fell apart fully, the only solution meant swapping it with another – perpetuating the issue.
At another site, she describes the leaking was so bad that several collection units were installed above the false roof to channel the water to a different sink.
It dawned on me that this place was like a body, a completely flawed entity,” she says.
These conditions brought to mind the sci-fi movie, the director's first movie from the seventies featuring a smart spaceship that develops independence. As the exhibition's title suggests through the heading – three distinct names – that’s not the only film to have influenced the artist's presentation. These titles refer to the leading women from a horror classic, another scary movie plus the sci-fi hit respectively. Herfeldt cites a 1987 essay from a scholar, which identifies these “final girls” a distinctive cinematic theme – protagonists by themselves to overcome.
These figures are somewhat masculine, reserved in nature enabling their survival due to intelligence,” she elaborates of the archetypal final girl. No drug use occurs nor sexual activity. And it doesn’t matter the viewer’s gender, all empathize with this character.”
The artist identifies a connection between these characters to her artworks – objects which only holding in place amidst stress they face. So is her work focused on social breakdown rather than simply water damage? As with many structures, these materials intended to secure and shield from deterioration are gradually failing around us.
“Oh, totally,” responds the artist.
Before finding inspiration in the silicone gun, Herfeldt used different unconventional substances. Recent shows have involved forms resembling tongues crafted from a synthetic material typical for within outdoor gear or apparel lining. Again there is the feeling these peculiar objects might animate – certain pieces are folded resembling moving larvae, others lollop down on vertical planes or extend through entries collecting debris from touch (The artist invites viewers to touch and soil the works). Similar to the foam artworks, the textile works also occupy – and breaking out of – budget-style transparent cases. These are unattractive objects, and that's the essence.
“They have a particular style that draws viewers compelled by, and at the same time appearing gross,” the artist comments grinning. “The art aims for not there, yet in reality highly noticeable.”
Herfeldt is not making art to provide comfortable or aesthetically soothed. Rather, her intention is to evoke unease, strange, or even humor. And if there's a moist sensation overhead as well, don’t say the alert was given.