Delving into the Sinister Sealant-Based Art: Where Objects Feel Animated
When considering restroom upgrades, you may want to avoid hiring Lisa Herfeldt for such tasks.
Truly, Herfeldt is a whiz in handling foam materials, crafting fascinating artworks out of an unusual substance. But the more look at her creations, the stronger it becomes apparent that an element seems somewhat unnerving.
The thick tubes made of silicone she crafts reach beyond the shelves where they rest, drooping over the sides towards the floor. The gnarled silicone strands expand until they split. Some creations break free from the display cases completely, turning into an attractor for grime and particles. One could imagine the feedback might not get positive.
“I sometimes have an impression that items are alive in a room,” states the German artist. Hence I started using silicone sealant as it offers such an organic feel and appearance.”
In fact one can detect somewhat grotesque in Herfeldt’s work, starting with the phallic bulge which extends, like a medical condition, from its cylindrical stand at the exhibition's heart, and the winding tubes from the material that rupture like medical emergencies. On one wall, are mounted prints of the works captured in multiple views: appearing as squirming organisms observed under magnification, or growths in a lab setting.
“It interests me is the idea within us occurring that also have their own life,” she says. Phenomena you can’t see or command.”
On the subject of things she can’t control, the exhibition advertisement featured in the exhibition features a picture of the leaky ceiling at her creative space in Kreuzberg, Berlin. It was made in the seventies as she explains, was instantly hated among the community since many older edifices were torn down to allow its construction. By the time dilapidated when Herfeldt – originally from Munich although she spent her youth north of Hamburg before arriving in Berlin in her youth – moved in.
This decrepit property proved challenging for her work – she couldn’t hang her art works without fearing risk of ruin – however, it was fascinating. Without any blueprints on hand, it was unclear the way to fix the problems that developed. After a part of the roof in Herfeldt’s studio got thoroughly soaked it collapsed entirely, the sole fix meant swapping the damaged part – perpetuating the issue.
In a different area, the artist explains dripping was extreme that several shower basins were set up within the drop ceiling in order to redirect the moisture elsewhere.
“I realised that the building acted as a physical form, a totally dysfunctional body,” the artist comments.
This scenario brought to mind Dark Star, John Carpenter’s debut cinematic piece concerning a conscious ship that takes on a life of its own. Additionally, observers may note given the naming – Alice, Laurie & Ripley – more movies have inspired shaping Herfeldt’s show. The three names point to main characters in the slasher film, Halloween and the extraterrestrial saga as listed. She mentions a 1987 essay by the American professor, outlining the last women standing an original movie concept – protagonists by themselves to overcome.
They often display toughness, rather quiet and she can survive thanks to resourcefulness,” says Herfeldt about such characters. No drug use occurs or have sex. Regardless the audience's identity, all empathize with the final girl.”
Herfeldt sees a connection from these protagonists to her artworks – elements that barely staying put under strain affecting them. Is the exhibition focused on cultural decay beyond merely leaky ceilings? Because like so many institutions, substances like silicone meant to insulate and guard from deterioration are actually slowly eroding in our environment.
“Oh, totally,” says Herfeldt.
Prior to discovering her medium in the silicone gun, she experimented with alternative odd mediums. Previous exhibitions have involved organic-looking pieces crafted from the kind of nylon fabric typical for within outdoor gear or apparel lining. Once more, there's the sense these peculiar objects might animate – a few are compressed resembling moving larvae, some droop heavily on vertical planes or extend through entries gathering grime from contact (The artist invites people to handle and dirty her art). Like the silicone sculptures, these nylon creations also occupy – and breaking out of – budget-style display enclosures. They’re ugly looking things, and that's the essence.
“They have a specific look that somehow you feel compelled by, and at the same time being quite repulsive,” she says amusedly. “It attempts to seem not there, yet in reality extremely obvious.”
Herfeldt is not making pieces that offer relaxation or visual calm. Instead, she aims for unease, awkward, perhaps entertained. However, should you notice a moist sensation on your head too, don’t say this was foreshadowed.