Unveiling Lisa Herfeldt's Eerie Sealant-Based Sculptures: Where Things Appear Living

If you're planning washroom remodeling, you may want to steer clear of hiring Lisa Herfeldt to handle it.

Truly, she's highly skilled with a silicone gun, crafting compelling artworks out of an unusual medium. But as you examine her creations, the clearer you realise a certain aspect seems somewhat strange.

Those hefty tubes of sealant Herfeldt forms extend beyond the shelves supporting them, sagging downwards towards the floor. Those twisted foam pipes swell until they split. A few artworks break free from their transparent enclosures entirely, turning into a collector of debris and fibers. Let's just say the ratings are unlikely to earn pretty.

“I sometimes have an impression that things seem animated in a room,” says Herfeldt. Hence I turned to this substance due to its such an organic texture and feeling.”

Indeed one can detect rather body horror about the artist's creations, from that protruding shape which extends, similar to a rupture, from its cylindrical stand in the centre of the gallery, or the gut-like spirals made of silicone which split open as if in crisis. On one wall, Herfeldt has framed prints depicting the sculptures viewed from different angles: appearing as microscopic invaders picked up on a microscope, or growths in a lab setting.

“It interests me that there are things within us taking place which possess independent existence,” the artist notes. Elements you can’t see or command.”

On the subject of unmanageable factors, the poster featured in the exhibition features a photograph of water damage overhead in her own studio in Kreuzberg, Berlin. Constructed made in the seventies and, she says, was quickly despised from residents as numerous older edifices got demolished for its development. It was already in a state of disrepair upon her – who was born in Munich yet raised north of Hamburg prior to moving to the capital during her teens – began using the space.

This deteriorating space caused issues for the artist – placing artworks was difficult the sculptures anxiously potential harm – however, it was compelling. Without any blueprints accessible, no one knew how to repair the problems which occurred. Once an overhead section in Herfeldt’s studio became so sodden it collapsed entirely, the sole fix involved installing it with another – thus repeating the process.

At another site, the artist explains dripping was extreme that a series of drainage containers were set up in the suspended ceiling in order to redirect leaks to another outlet.

I understood that the building resembled an organism, an entirely malfunctioning system,” the artist comments.

The situation reminded her of a classic film, the director's first 1974 film concerning a conscious ship that develops independence. And as you might notice through the heading – Alice, Laurie & Ripley – more movies have inspired shaping Herfeldt’s show. Those labels point to main characters in Friday 13th, Halloween and the extraterrestrial saga as listed. She mentions an academic paper from a scholar, outlining these “final girls” a distinctive cinematic theme – protagonists by themselves to overcome.

They often display toughness, rather quiet and they endure thanks to resourcefulness,” says Herfeldt of the archetypal final girl. “They don’t take drugs nor sexual activity. And it doesn’t matter the viewer’s gender, all empathize with the final girl.”

She draws a parallel linking these figures to her artworks – objects which only maintaining position despite the pressures affecting them. So is her work more about cultural decay than just dripping roofs? Because like so many institutions, these materials meant to insulate and guard from deterioration in fact are decaying around us.

“Absolutely,” responds the artist.

Earlier in her career with sealant applicators, the artist worked with other unusual materials. Past displays featured organic-looking pieces crafted from a synthetic material found in within outdoor gear or apparel lining. Once more, there's the impression such unusual creations might animate – some are concertinaed as insects in motion, others lollop down off surfaces blocking passages attracting dirt from footprints (Herfeldt encourages people to handle and soil the works). As with earlier creations, these nylon creations are also housed in – and breaking out of – cheap looking transparent cases. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, and really that’s the point.

“The sculptures exhibit a certain aesthetic which makes one very attracted to, while also they’re very disgusting,” Herfeldt remarks grinning. “The art aims for absent, however, it is extremely obvious.”

Herfeldt is not making pieces that offer ease or aesthetically soothed. Instead, her intention is to evoke unease, odd, or even humor. However, should you notice water droplets on your head too, don’t say you haven’t been warned.