Delving into Lisa Herfeldt's Unsettling Sealant-Based Sculptures: Where Things Seem Animated
If you're planning bathroom renovations, it might be wise not to choose engaging this German artist for such tasks.
Certainly, Herfeldt is a whiz using sealant applicators, crafting compelling creations from this unlikely medium. Yet as you observe her creations, the stronger it becomes apparent that something feels slightly off.
The thick strands of sealant she crafts extend beyond their supports where they rest, sagging off the edges below. Those twisted foam pipes bulge before bursting open. Some creations escape their acrylic glass box homes entirely, becoming a magnet of debris and fibers. One could imagine the reviews are unlikely to earn favorable.
At times I get an impression that items possess life in a room,” says Herfeldt. This is why I turned to silicone sealant because it has this very bodily sensation and look.”
Certainly one can detect rather body horror about these sculptures, from the phallic bulge that protrudes, hernia-like, from the support within the showspace, to the intestinal coils of foam which split open as if in crisis. On one wall, the artist presents prints depicting the sculptures viewed from different angles: resembling wormy parasites seen in scientific samples, or growths on culture plates.
I am fascinated by that there are things in our bodies happening which possess a life of their own,” the artist notes. Elements you can’t see or control.”
Talking of elements beyond her influence, the poster featured in the exhibition features an image showing a dripping roof at her creative space in Kreuzberg, Berlin. The building had been made in the seventies as she explains, was instantly hated among the community as numerous historic structures were removed in order to make way for it. It was already in a state of disrepair as the artist – originally from Munich although she spent her youth in northern Germany prior to moving to the capital as a teenager – moved in.
This decrepit property proved challenging to Herfeldt – she couldn’t hang the sculptures without concern they might be damaged – yet it also proved compelling. Without any blueprints accessible, it was unclear methods to address the malfunctions which occurred. After a part of the roof at the artist's area was saturated enough it collapsed entirely, the only solution was to replace the damaged part – and so the cycle continued.
At another site, she describes the water intrusion was severe that a series of collection units were set up in the suspended ceiling to divert the moisture elsewhere.
I understood that the structure resembled an organism, an entirely malfunctioning system,” the artist comments.
This scenario evoked memories of the sci-fi movie, the director's first movie from the seventies concerning a conscious ship that takes on a life of its own. And as you might notice from the show’s title – a trio of references – other cinematic works influenced to have influenced Herfeldt’s show. These titles indicate the female protagonists in Friday 13th, another scary movie plus the sci-fi hit in that order. The artist references a 1987 essay from a scholar, outlining these surviving characters as a unique film trope – women left alone to overcome.
They often display toughness, reserved in nature and they endure thanks to resourcefulness,” the artist explains of the archetypal final girl. They avoid substances or engage intimately. Regardless the audience's identity, all empathize with the survivor.”
She draws a similarity between these characters with her creations – objects which only staying put under strain they face. Is the exhibition really concerning cultural decay beyond merely leaky ceilings? Because like so many institutions, substances like silicone that should seal and protect against harm in fact are decaying within society.
“Oh, totally,” she confirms.
Earlier in her career using foam materials, Herfeldt used other unusual materials. Previous exhibitions included tongue-like shapes using fabric similar to you might see within outdoor gear or in coats. Once more, there's the feeling these peculiar objects might animate – certain pieces are folded resembling moving larvae, some droop heavily from walls or spill across doorways attracting dirt from footprints (She prompts viewers to touch and dirty her art). As with earlier creations, the textile works are also housed in – leaving – cheap looking transparent cases. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, and really that’s the point.
“They have a certain aesthetic that somehow you feel compelled by, yet simultaneously being quite repulsive,” Herfeldt remarks with a smile. “It tries to be absent, but it’s actually extremely obvious.”
Herfeldt's goal isn't work to make you feel relaxation or aesthetically soothed. Conversely, her intention is to evoke discomfort, strange, perhaps entertained. However, should you notice a moist sensation on your head as well, consider yourself you haven’t been warned.