Exploring Lisa Herfeldt's Eerie Sealant-Based Sculptures: Where Things Feel Animated

If you're planning bathroom renovations, it's advisable to steer clear of hiring the sculptor to handle it.

Truly, she's an expert in handling foam materials, crafting compelling creations out of an unusual medium. But the more observe the artworks, the clearer it becomes apparent that an element is a little unnerving.

The dense strands made of silicone she produces reach beyond the shelves where they rest, sagging off the edges towards the floor. The gnarled tubular forms expand until they split. Certain pieces break free from the display cases fully, evolving into a collector for dust and hair. One could imagine the ratings might not get favorable.

At times I get the feeling that things seem animated inside an area,” says the sculptor. This is why I came to use this foam material because it has this very bodily sensation and look.”

In fact there is an element rather body horror regarding Herfeldt’s work, including that protruding shape which extends, hernia-like, from its cylindrical stand within the showspace, and the winding tubes from the material that rupture as if in crisis. Along a surface, are mounted photocopies showing the pieces seen from various perspectives: they look like wormy parasites seen in scientific samples, or growths on culture plates.

What captivates me is how certain elements within us happening that seem to hold independent existence,” Herfeldt explains. “Things which remain unseen or command.”

On the subject of elements beyond her influence, the promotional image for the show includes an image of the leaky ceiling in her own studio in Kreuzberg, Berlin. The building had been made in the seventies and, she says, was quickly despised by local people because a lot of older edifices got demolished for its development. It was already run-down when Herfeldt – originally from Munich yet raised near Hamburg prior to moving to the capital as a teenager – began using the space.

This deteriorating space caused issues for the artist – she couldn’t hang the sculptures without fearing they might be damaged – yet it also proved compelling. With no building plans accessible, it was unclear how to repair any of the issues that developed. When the ceiling panel in Herfeldt’s studio got thoroughly soaked it collapsed entirely, the only solution meant swapping the panel with a new one – thus repeating the process.

In a different area, Herfeldt says the water intrusion was severe that a series of shower basins got placed above the false roof in order to redirect leaks to another outlet.

I understood that the structure acted as a physical form, a completely flawed entity,” she says.

The situation brought to mind a classic film, the director's first cinematic piece about an AI-powered spacecraft that takes on a life of its own. As the exhibition's title suggests from the show’s title – three distinct names – more movies have inspired impacting the artist's presentation. Those labels indicate the female protagonists in Friday 13th, Halloween plus the sci-fi hit respectively. The artist references a critical analysis by the American professor, which identifies these surviving characters as a unique film trope – protagonists by themselves to triumph.

“She’s a bit tomboyish, reserved in nature and she can survive because she’s quite clever,” says Herfeldt about such characters. “They don’t take drugs or have sex. It is irrelevant the audience's identity, all empathize with this character.”

She draws a parallel linking these figures with her creations – objects which only staying put amidst stress affecting them. Is the exhibition more about cultural decay than just dripping roofs? As with many structures, such components intended to secure and shield us from damage are gradually failing in our environment.

“Completely,” she confirms.

Prior to discovering her medium with sealant applicators, Herfeldt used other unusual materials. Past displays featured tongue-like shapes crafted from a synthetic material typical for in insulated clothing or apparel lining. Once more, there's the sense such unusual creations might animate – a few are compressed as insects in motion, others lollop down off surfaces or spill across doorways collecting debris from touch (Herfeldt encourages people to handle and dirty her art). Like the silicone sculptures, those fabric pieces are also housed in – and breaking out of – cheap looking transparent cases. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, and really that’s the point.

“They have a particular style that somehow you feel highly drawn to, yet simultaneously being quite repulsive,” Herfeldt remarks with a smile. “It attempts to seem absent, but it’s actually very present.”

The artist does not create art to provide comfortable or visual calm. Conversely, she wants you to feel discomfort, odd, or even humor. However, should you notice a moist sensation on your head additionally, don’t say the alert was given.