Unveiling Lisa Herfeldt's Unsettling Sealant-Based Artistry: In Which Objects Seem Living

When considering washroom remodeling, it might be wise to steer clear of hiring the sculptor to handle it.

Indeed, she's a whiz with a silicone gun, crafting compelling artworks out of an unusual substance. But as you observe the artworks, the clearer it becomes apparent that an element feels slightly unnerving.

The dense lengths of sealant Herfeldt forms stretch over display surfaces where they rest, drooping over the sides to the ground. The gnarled foam pipes swell until they split. Certain pieces leave their transparent enclosures completely, turning into a magnet for grime and particles. It's safe to say the reviews would not be pretty.

At times I get this sense that items seem animated inside an area,” remarks the sculptor. “That’s why I started using this substance as it offers such an organic sensation and look.”

In fact one can detect almost visceral regarding these sculptures, from the suggestive swelling which extends, like a medical condition, from its cylindrical stand at the exhibition's heart, and the winding tubes made of silicone that burst as if in crisis. On one wall, the artist presents images showing the pieces seen from various perspectives: resembling squirming organisms seen in scientific samples, or growths on culture plates.

What captivates me that there are things within us happening that also have a life of their own,” she says. Elements that are invisible or command.”

Regarding unmanageable factors, the promotional image for the show includes a picture showing a dripping roof within her workspace in Kreuzberg, Berlin. The building had been made in the seventies and according to her, was quickly despised among the community because a lot of historic structures got demolished for its development. It was already in a state of disrepair when Herfeldt – a native of that city although she spent her youth north of Hamburg then relocating to Berlin during her teens – began using the space.

This deteriorating space caused issues for her work – it was risky to display her pieces anxiously potential harm – yet it also proved fascinating. Lacking architectural drawings on hand, no one knew how to repair any of the issues that developed. Once an overhead section at the artist's area was saturated enough it fell apart fully, the single remedy was to replace the panel with a new one – perpetuating the issue.

At another site, Herfeldt says dripping was extreme that a series of shower basins were set up within the drop ceiling in order to redirect leaks to another outlet.

I understood that the building was like a body, a totally dysfunctional body,” the artist comments.

These conditions brought to mind the sci-fi movie, the director's first cinematic piece concerning a conscious ship that develops independence. And as you might notice from the show’s title – three distinct names – more movies have inspired impacting Herfeldt’s show. These titles refer to main characters in Friday 13th, Halloween plus the sci-fi hit as listed. The artist references a critical analysis from a scholar, which identifies these surviving characters an original movie concept – female characters isolated to overcome.

These figures are somewhat masculine, on the silent side enabling their survival thanks to resourcefulness,” she elaborates regarding this trope. “They don’t take drugs or have sex. It is irrelevant the audience's identity, everyone can relate to the final girl.”

The artist identifies a similarity from these protagonists with her creations – elements that barely maintaining position amidst stress they’re under. Is the exhibition really concerning cultural decay rather than simply dripping roofs? Similar to various systems, such components that should seal and protect against harm are actually slowly eroding around us.

“Oh, totally,” responds the artist.

Prior to discovering her medium using foam materials, she experimented with alternative odd mediums. Past displays have involved organic-looking pieces made from a synthetic material typical for in insulated clothing or in coats. Once more, there's the sense these strange items might animate – certain pieces are folded like caterpillars mid-crawl, pieces hang loosely from walls or extend through entries gathering grime from contact (She prompts audiences to interact leaving marks on pieces). Like the silicone sculptures, the textile works also occupy – leaving – cheap looking transparent cases. These are unattractive objects, which is intentional.

“The sculptures exhibit a particular style which makes one very attracted to, and at the same time appearing gross,” Herfeldt remarks with a smile. “The art aims for invisible, however, it is very present.”

The artist does not create work to make you feel comfortable or visual calm. Conversely, she wants you to feel unease, odd, perhaps entertained. But if you start to feel something wet dripping overhead additionally, remember you haven’t been warned.

Jennifer Taylor
Jennifer Taylor

A seasoned journalist with a passion for uncovering stories that matter, based in London.