Exploring Lisa Herfeldt's Eerie Silicone-Gun Artistry: In Which Things Feel Animated
If you're planning washroom remodeling, it might be wise not to choose employing the sculptor for such tasks.
Certainly, Herfeldt is an expert in handling foam materials, producing fascinating artworks from this unlikely art material. But the more look at these pieces, the more one notices that an element seems somewhat unnerving.
Those hefty lengths from the foam she crafts reach past their supports where they rest, sagging over the sides towards the floor. The knotty silicone strands bulge until they split. A few artworks leave their acrylic glass box homes entirely, turning into a collector for grime and particles. It's safe to say the ratings might not get favorable.
“I sometimes have this sense that things possess life in a room,” states Herfeldt. This is why I started using this foam material due to its a distinctly physical sensation and look.”
Certainly one can detect almost visceral in these sculptures, including the suggestive swelling that protrudes, like a medical condition, off its base within the showspace, to the intestinal coils of foam that rupture like medical emergencies. Displayed nearby, Herfeldt has framed prints of the works captured in multiple views: resembling microscopic invaders picked up on a microscope, or colonies on a petri-dish.
“It interests me that there are things within us happening which possess independent existence,” Herfeldt explains. Elements which remain unseen or command.”
Talking of unmanageable factors, the promotional image featured in the exhibition features a picture showing a dripping roof within her workspace in Kreuzberg, Berlin. The building had been built in the early 1970s and according to her, was instantly hated from residents because a lot of older edifices were removed in order to make way for it. The place was in a state of disrepair upon her – who was born in Munich yet raised near Hamburg before arriving in Berlin during her teens – began using the space.
This decrepit property was frustrating to Herfeldt – placing artworks was difficult her pieces without concern potential harm – however, it was fascinating. Lacking architectural drawings on hand, it was unclear the way to fix the malfunctions that developed. When the ceiling panel within her workspace became so sodden it gave way completely, the sole fix meant swapping the panel with a new one – thus repeating the process.
At another site, Herfeldt says the water intrusion was severe that several shower basins got placed within the drop ceiling to divert the moisture elsewhere.
I understood that the building was like a body, an entirely malfunctioning system,” Herfeldt states.
The situation reminded her of a classic film, the initial work movie from the seventies about an AI-powered spacecraft which becomes autonomous. As the exhibition's title suggests through the heading – Alice, Laurie & Ripley – that’s not the only film to have influenced Herfeldt’s show. These titles refer to the female protagonists in Friday 13th, another scary movie and the extraterrestrial saga in that order. She mentions a critical analysis by the American professor, which identifies the last women standing as a unique film trope – protagonists by themselves to triumph.
“She’s a bit tomboyish, rather quiet and she can survive because she’s quite clever,” says Herfeldt of the archetypal final girl. “They don’t take drugs or have sex. It is irrelevant who is watching, everyone can relate to this character.”
The artist identifies a parallel between these characters and her sculptures – objects which only maintaining position under strain affecting them. So is her work really concerning social breakdown rather than simply leaky ceilings? Because like so many institutions, substances like silicone meant to insulate and guard from deterioration are actually slowly eroding within society.
“Completely,” says Herfeldt.
Earlier in her career with sealant applicators, Herfeldt used different unconventional substances. Previous exhibitions have involved tongue-like shapes made from a synthetic material you might see on a sleeping bag or in coats. Similarly, one finds the impression such unusual creations might animate – certain pieces are folded like caterpillars mid-crawl, others lollop down on vertical planes blocking passages gathering grime from contact (Herfeldt encourages people to handle and soil the works). Similar to the foam artworks, the textile works also occupy – and escaping from – budget-style transparent cases. These are unattractive objects, and that's the essence.
“The sculptures exhibit a particular style which makes one very attracted to, while also they’re very disgusting,” the artist comments grinning. “It tries to be not there, yet in reality highly noticeable.”
Herfeldt is not making art to provide relaxation or visual calm. Conversely, her intention is to evoke uncomfortable, awkward, perhaps entertained. And if there's water droplets overhead additionally, remember the alert was given.