Exploring Lisa Herfeldt's Unsettling Silicone-Gun Artistry: In Which Things Appear Alive

When considering washroom remodeling, you may want to avoid employing Lisa Herfeldt for such tasks.

Certainly, Herfeldt is an expert using sealant applicators, creating compelling creations from this unlikely art material. But longer you examine these pieces, the clearer one notices a certain aspect is a little strange.

Those hefty tubes from the foam Herfeldt forms extend over display surfaces on which they sit, sagging over the sides below. Those twisted silicone strands bulge till they rupture. Certain pieces leave their acrylic glass box homes entirely, becoming a magnet of debris and fibers. Let's just say the reviews are unlikely to earn favorable.

“I sometimes have the feeling that items seem animated inside an area,” states the sculptor. This is why I turned to this foam material because it has this very bodily texture and feeling.”

Certainly one can detect almost visceral regarding these sculptures, starting with the phallic bulge jutting out, similar to a rupture, from the support within the showspace, or the gut-like spirals made of silicone that rupture as if in crisis. Along a surface, the artist presents photocopies showing the pieces seen from various perspectives: appearing as squirming organisms picked up on a microscope, or growths on culture plates.

“It interests me is the idea within us occurring which possess independent existence,” Herfeldt explains. Phenomena which remain unseen or command.”

Regarding elements beyond her influence, the poster promoting the event features an image showing a dripping roof within her workspace in Kreuzberg, Berlin. It was made in the seventies and, she says, was instantly hated from residents because a lot of old buildings were torn down in order to make way for it. The place was run-down when Herfeldt – who was born in Munich although she spent her youth north of Hamburg prior to moving to the capital during her teens – moved in.

This decrepit property proved challenging for the artist – she couldn’t hang her pieces without concern they might be damaged – yet it also proved fascinating. Without any blueprints available, it was unclear the way to fix the malfunctions that developed. When the ceiling panel at the artist's area was saturated enough it fell apart fully, the sole fix was to replace it with another – thus repeating the process.

In a different area, Herfeldt says dripping was extreme that several shower basins were set up within the drop ceiling to divert the water to a different sink.

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

The situation reminded her of a classic film, John Carpenter’s debut 1974 film concerning a conscious ship that takes on a life of its own. Additionally, observers may note from the show’s title – three distinct names – more movies have inspired to have influenced Herfeldt’s show. Those labels indicate the leading women from a horror classic, the iconic thriller plus the sci-fi hit respectively. Herfeldt cites a 1987 essay from a scholar, that describes these surviving characters an original movie concept – female characters isolated to triumph.

These figures are somewhat masculine, rather quiet and she can survive thanks to resourcefulness,” says Herfeldt of the archetypal final girl. They avoid substances nor sexual activity. And it doesn’t matter who is watching, everyone can relate to the survivor.”

The artist identifies a parallel linking these figures and her sculptures – objects which only staying put under strain they’re under. So is her work focused on social breakdown than just dripping roofs? Because like so many institutions, these materials intended to secure and shield us from damage are gradually failing in our environment.

“Oh, totally,” responds the artist.

Before finding inspiration with sealant applicators, Herfeldt used different unconventional substances. Past displays featured forms resembling tongues made from fabric similar to you might see in insulated clothing or in coats. Once more, there's the impression these peculiar objects might animate – certain pieces are folded as insects in motion, others lollop down off surfaces blocking passages collecting debris from touch (The artist invites people to handle and dirty her art). As with earlier creations, those fabric pieces are similarly displayed in – and escaping from – cheap looking display enclosures. These are unattractive objects, which is intentional.

“They have a particular style that draws viewers compelled by, and at the same time being quite repulsive,” the artist comments with a smile. “It tries to be invisible, however, it is extremely obvious.”

The artist does not create art to provide relaxation or visual calm. Instead, her intention is to evoke uncomfortable, awkward, or even humor. However, should you notice something wet dripping overhead too, don’t say this was foreshadowed.