Exploring the Sinister Sealant-Based Sculptures: Where Objects Seem Animated

If you're planning washroom remodeling, it might be wise not to choose employing Lisa Herfeldt to handle it.

Certainly, she's a whiz with a silicone gun, creating fascinating artworks from this unlikely art material. However as you look at her creations, the stronger one notices a certain aspect seems somewhat strange.

The dense tubes made of silicone she produces reach beyond their supports on which they sit, sagging over the sides towards the floor. Those twisted foam pipes bulge till they rupture. Some creations leave their acrylic glass box homes completely, becoming a magnet for dust and hair. Let's just say the reviews are unlikely to earn favorable.

There are moments I feel the feeling that things possess life within a space,” states the sculptor. “That’s why I turned to this substance as it offers this very bodily feel and appearance.”

Indeed one can detect somewhat grotesque about the artist's creations, including 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 that rupture as if in crisis. On one wall, are mounted photocopies depicting the sculptures captured in multiple views: resembling squirming organisms picked up on a microscope, or colonies in a lab setting.

“It interests me is how certain elements within us occurring that seem to hold independent existence,” she says. “Things which remain unseen or manage.”

On the subject of elements beyond her influence, the exhibition advertisement featured in the exhibition features an image showing a dripping roof at her creative space in the German capital. The building had been erected decades ago and, she says, was instantly hated from residents since many older edifices were removed for its development. It was already in a state of disrepair as the artist – a native of that city yet raised near Hamburg before arriving in Berlin during her teens – took up residence.

This deteriorating space proved challenging for the artist – it was risky to display her art works without concern risk of ruin – yet it also proved compelling. Without any blueprints available, nobody had a clue the way to fix the problems which occurred. Once an overhead section at the artist's area became so sodden it collapsed entirely, the only solution involved installing the damaged part – and so the cycle continued.

Elsewhere on the property, the artist explains dripping was extreme that a series of drainage containers got placed in the suspended ceiling to channel the water to a different sink.

It dawned on me that this place resembled an organism, a completely flawed entity,” Herfeldt states.

This scenario reminded her of a classic film, the director's first movie from the seventies featuring a smart spaceship that takes on a life of its own. And as you might notice from the show’s title – a trio of references – that’s not the only film shaping the artist's presentation. These titles indicate the leading women in Friday 13th, another scary movie and Alien respectively. Herfeldt cites a critical analysis by the American professor, which identifies these surviving characters an original movie concept – female characters isolated to save the day.

“She’s a bit tomboyish, rather quiet and they endure due to intelligence,” the artist explains regarding this trope. “They don’t take drugs or have sex. It is irrelevant who is watching, everyone can relate to the survivor.”

The artist identifies a connection between these characters with her creations – things that are just about holding in place under strain they’re under. So is her work focused on social breakdown rather than simply dripping roofs? As with many structures, such components that should seal and protect us from damage in fact are decaying within society.

“Completely,” she confirms.

Earlier in her career with sealant applicators, the artist worked with different unconventional substances. Previous exhibitions have involved tongue-like shapes using fabric similar to found in in insulated clothing or apparel lining. Once more, there's the impression these peculiar objects might animate – certain pieces are folded resembling moving larvae, others lollop down off surfaces blocking passages collecting debris from touch (The artist invites people to handle and dirty her art). Similar to the foam artworks, these nylon creations are also housed in – and breaking out of – inexpensive-seeming display enclosures. They’re ugly looking things, and that's the essence.

“These works possess a specific look that somehow you feel compelled by, yet simultaneously appearing gross,” Herfeldt remarks with a smile. “It attempts to seem absent, yet in reality highly noticeable.”

Herfeldt's goal isn't art to provide comfortable or visual calm. Rather, her intention is to evoke unease, awkward, perhaps entertained. But if you start to feel water droplets from above additionally, remember this was foreshadowed.