Delving into Lisa Herfeldt's Sinister Silicone-Gun Artistry: Where Objects Appear Living
Should you be thinking about restroom upgrades, it's advisable to avoid engaging Lisa Herfeldt for such tasks.
Truly, Herfeldt is an expert with a silicone gun, crafting fascinating creations from this unlikely art material. Yet longer you observe her creations, the stronger one notices that an element is a little unnerving.
Those hefty tubes made of silicone she crafts extend over their supports where they rest, drooping off the edges towards the floor. The knotty tubular forms expand until they split. Certain pieces break free from their acrylic glass box homes entirely, turning into a magnet for grime and particles. Let's just say the reviews would not be favorable.
“I sometimes have the feeling that items possess life in a room,” says the German artist. Hence I came to use silicone sealant due to its a distinctly physical texture and feeling.”
In fact there’s something somewhat grotesque regarding Herfeldt’s work, from the suggestive swelling that protrudes, hernia-like, from the support at the exhibition's heart, or the gut-like spirals made of silicone that rupture like medical emergencies. Along a surface, are mounted photocopies depicting the sculptures viewed from different angles: appearing as microscopic invaders picked up on a microscope, or colonies on culture plates.
I am fascinated by is how certain elements inside human forms taking place that also have independent existence,” the artist notes. Elements which remain unseen or manage.”
Talking of unmanageable factors, the promotional image for the show includes a photograph of the leaky ceiling in her own studio in Kreuzberg, Berlin. The building had been erected decades ago and, she says, was quickly despised by local people because a lot of older edifices were removed to allow its construction. By the time run-down when Herfeldt – a native of that city but grew up near Hamburg then relocating to Berlin as a teenager – moved in.
This decrepit property was frustrating for her work – placing artworks was difficult her pieces without fearing potential harm – yet it also proved intriguing. Lacking architectural drawings on hand, nobody had a clue the way to fix the problems that developed. After a part of the roof within her workspace was saturated enough it collapsed entirely, the sole fix meant swapping it with another – thus repeating the process.
Elsewhere on the property, she describes the water intrusion was severe that several shower basins were installed within the drop ceiling in order to redirect the moisture elsewhere.
It dawned on me that the building was like a body, a completely flawed entity,” the artist comments.
This scenario reminded her of a classic film, the initial work movie from the seventies concerning a conscious ship that takes on a life of its own. Additionally, observers may note through the heading – a trio of references – other cinematic works influenced impacting Herfeldt’s show. Those labels indicate the leading women from a horror classic, the iconic thriller and Alien respectively. She mentions an academic paper from a scholar, that describes these surviving characters an original movie concept – protagonists by themselves to overcome.
“She’s a bit tomboyish, on the silent side enabling their survival due to intelligence,” says Herfeldt regarding this trope. No drug use occurs or have sex. And it doesn’t matter the audience's identity, we can all identify with the final girl.”
Herfeldt sees a similarity between these characters with her creations – things that are just about maintaining position amidst stress affecting them. So is her work focused on societal collapse than just water damage? As with many structures, these materials intended to secure and shield against harm are gradually failing within society.
“Oh, totally,” responds the artist.
Before finding inspiration using foam materials, the artist worked with other unusual materials. Past displays have involved tongue-like shapes made from a synthetic material typical for within outdoor gear or apparel lining. Once more, there's the impression these peculiar objects could come alive – certain pieces are folded resembling moving larvae, some droop heavily from walls blocking passages attracting dirt from footprints (The artist invites viewers to touch and dirty her art). Like the silicone sculptures, these nylon creations are similarly displayed in – and breaking out of – inexpensive-seeming display enclosures. They’re ugly looking things, and that's the essence.
“They have a particular style which makes one very attracted to, yet simultaneously appearing gross,” Herfeldt remarks amusedly. “It attempts to seem absent, yet in reality highly noticeable.”
The artist does not create art to provide ease or beauty. Rather, her intention is to evoke unease, strange, or even humor. But if you start to feel water droplets from above too, remember you haven’t been warned.