Delving into Lisa Herfeldt's Unsettling Sealant-Based Artistry: Where Things Appear Alive
When considering restroom upgrades, you may want to avoid engaging Lisa Herfeldt to handle it.
Indeed, Herfeldt is highly skilled in handling foam materials, creating fascinating artworks with a surprising medium. However the more look at her creations, the more one notices a certain aspect is a little strange.
Those hefty strands of sealant Herfeldt forms extend over the shelves where they rest, drooping off the edges towards the floor. The gnarled tubular forms bulge before bursting open. Certain pieces break free from their acrylic glass box homes fully, turning into an attractor of debris and fibers. It's safe to say the feedback would not be favorable.
“I sometimes have this sense that objects possess life in a room,” remarks the German artist. Hence I came to use silicone sealant because it has such an organic texture and feeling.”
Certainly there is an element almost visceral about the artist's creations, including that protruding shape jutting out, similar to a rupture, off its base within the showspace, to the intestinal coils of foam which split open resembling bodily failures. Displayed nearby, the artist presents photocopies depicting the sculptures captured in multiple views: resembling microscopic invaders observed under magnification, or colonies on culture plates.
What captivates me that there are things in our bodies taking place which possess a life of their own,” the artist notes. “Things that are invisible or control.”
On the subject of unmanageable factors, the poster promoting the event includes a picture showing a dripping roof in her own studio in the German capital. Constructed made in the seventies and according to her, was instantly hated by local people as numerous older edifices were torn down in order to make way for it. By the time dilapidated upon her – a native of that city but grew up in northern Germany prior to moving to the capital during her teens – began using the space.
This deteriorating space proved challenging to Herfeldt – it was risky to display her pieces anxiously potential harm – however, it was compelling. Lacking architectural drawings available, it was unclear methods to address the problems that developed. Once an overhead section in Herfeldt’s studio was saturated enough it gave way completely, the single remedy was to replace it with another – perpetuating the issue.
Elsewhere on the property, the artist explains the water intrusion was severe that a series of shower basins were installed within the drop ceiling to channel the moisture elsewhere.
It dawned on me that this place resembled an organism, a totally dysfunctional body,” Herfeldt states.
This scenario evoked memories of Dark Star, John Carpenter’s debut 1974 film featuring a smart spaceship that develops independence. And as you might notice through the heading – Alice, Laurie & Ripley – that’s not the only film impacting Herfeldt’s show. The three names indicate the leading women in the slasher film, another scary movie plus the sci-fi hit as listed. The artist references an academic paper by the American professor, which identifies these “final girls” a distinctive cinematic theme – protagonists by themselves to save the day.
“She’s a bit tomboyish, reserved in nature enabling their survival because she’s quite clever,” the artist explains about such characters. No drug use occurs nor sexual activity. And it doesn’t matter the viewer’s gender, all empathize with the final girl.”
Herfeldt sees a parallel between these characters and her sculptures – elements that barely maintaining position despite the pressures they’re under. Is the exhibition really concerning social breakdown rather than simply dripping roofs? Similar to various systems, these materials that should seal and protect us from damage are gradually failing within society.
“Absolutely,” says Herfeldt.
Before finding inspiration in the silicone gun, the artist worked with different unconventional substances. Past displays featured forms resembling tongues using fabric similar to you might see on a sleeping bag or in coats. Again there is the sense such unusual creations seem lifelike – some are concertinaed as insects in motion, pieces hang loosely off surfaces or extend through entries attracting dirt from footprints (Herfeldt encourages people to handle and dirty her art). As with earlier creations, the textile works also occupy – and breaking out of – inexpensive-seeming transparent cases. They’re ugly looking things, and that's the essence.
“The sculptures exhibit a specific look that draws viewers compelled by, and at the same time appearing gross,” the artist comments amusedly. “It tries to be not there, yet in reality very present.”
The artist does not create pieces that offer comfortable or beauty. Conversely, her intention is to evoke discomfort, odd, perhaps entertained. However, should you notice a moist sensation overhead too, consider yourself this was foreshadowed.