Unveiling Lisa Herfeldt's Eerie Sealant-Based Artistry: In Which Objects Appear Animated
If you're planning restroom upgrades, you may want to avoid hiring this German artist for the job.
Certainly, Herfeldt is highly skilled with a silicone gun, creating intriguing sculptures with a surprising substance. Yet the more examine these pieces, the more it becomes apparent that something seems somewhat unnerving.
The thick tubes made of silicone Herfeldt forms extend past display surfaces supporting them, drooping downwards to the ground. Those twisted silicone strands bulge before bursting open. Some creations break free from their transparent enclosures completely, turning into an attractor for dust and hair. Let's just say the ratings might not get favorable.
“I sometimes have the feeling that things seem animated in a room,” remarks Herfeldt. Hence I started using silicone sealant because it has such an organic texture and feeling.”
In fact there’s something almost visceral regarding the artist's creations, starting with the phallic bulge jutting out, similar to a rupture, from the support in the centre of the gallery, or the gut-like spirals from the material that burst resembling bodily failures. Along a surface, are mounted photocopies depicting the sculptures captured in multiple views: they look like microscopic invaders seen in scientific samples, or colonies on culture plates.
I am fascinated by is the idea within us happening which possess independent existence,” Herfeldt explains. Elements that are invisible or command.”
On the subject of elements beyond her influence, the poster featured in the exhibition includes an image showing a dripping roof in her own studio in the German capital. Constructed made in the seventies and according to her, was quickly despised among the community because a lot of older edifices got demolished in order to make way for it. By the time run-down as the artist – a native of that city although she spent her youth north of Hamburg then relocating to Berlin as a teenager – moved in.
This deteriorating space was frustrating to Herfeldt – it was risky to display her pieces anxiously risk of ruin – however, it was fascinating. Without any blueprints available, nobody had a clue how to repair any of the issues that developed. Once an overhead section at the artist's area got thoroughly soaked it gave way completely, the only solution was to replace the panel with a new one – and so the cycle continued.
At another site, she describes the water intrusion was severe that several shower basins got placed above the false roof in order to redirect the moisture elsewhere.
“I realised that this place was like a body, a completely flawed entity,” Herfeldt states.
The situation brought to mind Dark Star, the director's first cinematic piece featuring a smart spaceship that develops independence. Additionally, observers may note through the heading – three distinct names – that’s not the only film impacting the artist's presentation. These titles indicate the female protagonists from a horror classic, another scary movie plus the sci-fi hit respectively. She mentions an academic paper written by Carol J Clover, outlining these “final girls” as a unique film trope – protagonists by themselves to overcome.
“She’s a bit tomboyish, rather quiet and they endure due to intelligence,” she elaborates regarding this trope. “They don’t take drugs or engage intimately. Regardless who is watching, all empathize with the survivor.”
She draws a parallel from these protagonists and her sculptures – objects which only holding in place despite the pressures they face. Is the exhibition more about societal collapse beyond merely water damage? Because like so many institutions, such components that should seal and protect us from damage are actually slowly eroding in our environment.
“Oh, totally,” says Herfeldt.
Earlier in her career in the silicone gun, the artist worked with different unconventional substances. Previous exhibitions featured forms resembling tongues made from the kind of nylon fabric found in in insulated clothing or inside a jacket. Similarly, one finds the impression these strange items might animate – some are concertinaed as insects in motion, pieces hang loosely from walls blocking passages collecting debris from touch (She prompts audiences to interact and dirty her art). As with earlier creations, these nylon creations also occupy – and escaping from – inexpensive-seeming display enclosures. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, which is intentional.
“They have a certain aesthetic that somehow you feel highly drawn to, and at the same time being quite repulsive,” Herfeldt remarks with a smile. “It tries to be absent, however, it is extremely obvious.”
Herfeldt is not making art to provide relaxation or beauty. Rather, she wants you to feel uncomfortable, strange, perhaps entertained. But if you start to feel water droplets on your head too, don’t say you haven’t been warned.