Exploring Lisa Herfeldt's Unsettling Sealant-Based Sculptures: In Which Things Feel Alive
When considering restroom upgrades, it's advisable not to choose employing the sculptor for such tasks.
Certainly, she's a whiz with a silicone gun, producing fascinating sculptures out of an unusual art material. However the more observe these pieces, the clearer it becomes apparent that something feels slightly unnerving.
Those hefty tubes from the foam Herfeldt forms reach beyond their supports supporting them, hanging off the edges towards the floor. The knotty foam pipes bulge till they rupture. A few artworks escape their acrylic glass box homes entirely, becoming a magnet for grime and particles. It's safe to say the reviews would not be pretty.
“I sometimes have an impression that items are alive in a room,” states Herfeldt. This is why I turned to this substance because it has a distinctly physical sensation and look.”
In fact one can detect almost visceral in Herfeldt’s work, starting with the suggestive swelling jutting out, like a medical condition, off its base in the centre of the gallery, or the gut-like spirals of foam that burst as if in crisis. Displayed nearby, the artist presents prints showing the pieces seen from various perspectives: resembling wormy parasites observed under magnification, or formations in a lab setting.
What captivates me is how certain elements within us occurring which possess their own life,” she says. Phenomena which remain unseen or command.”
Talking of elements beyond her influence, the poster for the show displays an image of the leaky ceiling in her own studio in the German capital. Constructed erected decades ago and, she says, was quickly despised by local people since many old buildings were torn down in order to make way for it. It was already run-down when Herfeldt – a native of that city yet raised north of Hamburg before arriving in Berlin during her teens – began using the space.
This decrepit property proved challenging for her work – it was risky to display her art works without fearing potential harm – but it was also fascinating. With no building plans available, no one knew how to repair any of the issues that arose. After a part of the roof in Herfeldt’s studio got thoroughly soaked it collapsed entirely, the single remedy was to replace the panel with a new one – and so the cycle continued.
Elsewhere on the property, Herfeldt says dripping was extreme so multiple drainage containers got placed in the suspended ceiling to divert leaks to another outlet.
“I realised that the structure was like a body, a totally dysfunctional body,” she says.
This scenario evoked memories of a classic film, John Carpenter’s debut cinematic piece about an AI-powered spacecraft that takes on a life of its own. And as you might notice given the naming – three distinct names – other cinematic works influenced impacting this exhibition. The three names point to main characters from a horror classic, the iconic thriller and Alien in that order. Herfeldt cites a critical analysis from a scholar, outlining the last women standing as a unique film trope – women left alone to save the day.
These figures are somewhat masculine, reserved in nature enabling their survival thanks to resourcefulness,” says Herfeldt regarding this trope. They avoid substances or have sex. And it doesn’t matter the audience's identity, all empathize with the survivor.”
Herfeldt sees a connection linking these figures to her artworks – objects which only holding in place amidst stress they face. Does this mean the art focused on societal collapse than just leaky ceilings? Similar to various systems, substances like silicone meant to insulate and guard from deterioration in fact are decaying within society.
“Absolutely,” responds the artist.
Earlier in her career with sealant applicators, the artist worked with other unusual materials. Recent shows included forms resembling tongues made from a synthetic material you might see in insulated clothing or in coats. Similarly, one finds the impression these peculiar objects could come alive – a few are compressed resembling moving larvae, others lollop down from walls or extend through entries collecting debris from touch (She prompts audiences to interact and soil the works). Similar to the foam artworks, the textile works also occupy – leaving – inexpensive-seeming acrylic glass boxes. These are unattractive objects, which is intentional.
“These works possess a certain aesthetic that draws viewers highly drawn to, while also they’re very disgusting,” she says with a smile. “It attempts to seem not there, but it’s actually very present.”
Herfeldt is not making art to provide comfortable or aesthetically soothed. Rather, her intention is to evoke unease, strange, maybe even amused. However, should you notice a moist sensation overhead as well, consider yourself this was foreshadowed.