Unveiling Lisa Herfeldt's Eerie Sealant-Based Artistry: In Which Objects Appear Alive

If you're planning bathroom renovations, it's advisable not to choose engaging this German artist for such tasks.

Certainly, Herfeldt is an expert with a silicone gun, crafting compelling creations from this unlikely substance. However the more observe the artworks, the stronger it becomes apparent that an element is a little off.

The thick tubes of sealant Herfeldt forms stretch past the shelves supporting them, hanging downwards to the ground. The gnarled silicone strands swell till they rupture. Certain pieces leave their transparent enclosures entirely, turning into an attractor for grime and particles. One could imagine the feedback would not be positive.

“I sometimes have an impression that items seem animated within a space,” remarks the German artist. Hence I came to use this foam material due to its a distinctly physical feel and appearance.”

Indeed one can detect somewhat grotesque regarding the artist's creations, including that protruding shape jutting out, hernia-like, from the support in the centre of the gallery, or the gut-like spirals of foam that rupture resembling bodily failures. On one wall, are mounted prints of the works seen from various perspectives: appearing as squirming organisms observed under magnification, or growths on culture plates.

I am fascinated by is how certain elements within us taking place that seem to hold independent existence,” she says. Phenomena which remain unseen or control.”

Regarding unmanageable factors, the poster featured in the exhibition features a picture of the leaky ceiling within her workspace in the German capital. The building had been built in the early 1970s and, she says, was instantly hated by local people because a lot of old buildings got demolished for its development. By the time dilapidated upon her – a native of that city although she spent her youth in northern Germany then relocating to Berlin as a teenager – took up residence.

The rundown building was frustrating to Herfeldt – she couldn’t hang her pieces without concern they might be damaged – but it was also intriguing. With no building plans accessible, no one knew how to repair any of the issues which occurred. When the ceiling panel within her workspace got thoroughly soaked it collapsed entirely, the sole fix meant swapping it with another – thus repeating the process.

Elsewhere on the property, Herfeldt says dripping was extreme that several shower basins were installed within the drop ceiling in order to redirect the moisture elsewhere.

“I realised that this place acted as a physical form, a totally dysfunctional body,” she says.

These conditions evoked memories of a classic film, the initial work 1974 film featuring a smart spaceship which becomes autonomous. And as you might notice given the naming – a trio of references – other cinematic works influenced to have influenced the artist's presentation. Those labels refer to main characters in the slasher film, Halloween plus the sci-fi hit respectively. She mentions a critical analysis from a scholar, outlining these “final girls” as a unique film trope – women left alone to save the day.

“She’s a bit tomboyish, on the silent side and they endure because she’s quite clever,” she elaborates of the archetypal final girl. They avoid substances nor sexual activity. Regardless the audience's identity, we can all identify with the final girl.”

The artist identifies a similarity linking these figures with her creations – things that are just about maintaining position despite the pressures they face. Is the exhibition more about social breakdown than just dripping roofs? Similar to various systems, such components meant to insulate and guard against harm are actually slowly eroding around us.

“Completely,” says Herfeldt.

Before finding inspiration with sealant applicators, Herfeldt used different unconventional substances. Recent shows have involved tongue-like shapes made from a synthetic material you might see within outdoor gear or inside a jacket. Again there is the impression such unusual creations seem lifelike – a few are compressed like caterpillars mid-crawl, some droop heavily on vertical planes blocking passages gathering grime from contact (Herfeldt encourages viewers to touch and soil the works). Similar to the foam artworks, those fabric pieces are also housed in – and breaking out of – inexpensive-seeming acrylic glass boxes. These are unattractive objects, and really that’s the point.

“These works possess a particular style that somehow you feel highly drawn to, and at the same time being quite repulsive,” the artist comments with a smile. “It tries to be invisible, however, it is extremely obvious.”

Herfeldt is not making pieces that offer relaxation or beauty. Rather, she wants you to feel uncomfortable, strange, or even humor. However, should you notice water droplets from above as well, consider yourself this was foreshadowed.