Unveiling Lisa Herfeldt's Unsettling Silicone-Gun Sculptures: In Which Objects Appear Animated
Should you be thinking about restroom upgrades, you may want not to choose hiring the sculptor to handle it.
Certainly, Herfeldt is an expert using sealant applicators, creating fascinating sculptures with a surprising substance. However as you look at the artworks, the stronger one notices a certain aspect is a little unnerving.
The dense strands from the foam she crafts reach past the shelves supporting them, drooping over the sides towards the floor. Those twisted tubular forms expand until they split. A few artworks break free from their transparent enclosures entirely, becoming a magnet for dust and hair. One could imagine the ratings would not be favorable.
There are moments I feel an impression that objects possess life inside an area,” remarks Herfeldt. Hence I turned to silicone sealant because it has this very bodily feel and appearance.”
In fact there’s something almost visceral in Herfeldt’s work, including the suggestive swelling jutting out, hernia-like, from the support within the showspace, or the gut-like spirals of foam that burst like medical emergencies. Along a surface, are mounted prints of the works captured in multiple views: appearing as wormy parasites picked up on a microscope, or colonies on culture plates.
What captivates me that there are things inside human forms taking place which possess a life of their own,” the artist notes. Elements that are invisible or control.”
On the subject of things she can’t control, the promotional image featured in the exhibition includes a photograph of water damage overhead in her own studio in Kreuzberg, Berlin. The building had been erected decades ago and, she says, faced immediate dislike by local people since many old buildings got demolished for its development. It was already run-down upon her – who was born in Munich although she spent her youth north of Hamburg before arriving in Berlin during her teens – began using the space.
This decrepit property was frustrating to Herfeldt – it was risky to display her pieces without fearing they might be damaged – but it was also intriguing. Without any blueprints accessible, nobody had a clue how to repair any of the issues which occurred. After a part of the roof within her workspace was saturated enough it fell apart fully, the only solution meant swapping the panel with a new one – thus repeating the process.
In a different area, the artist explains the leaking was so bad that several collection units were set up within the drop ceiling to divert leaks to another outlet.
It dawned on me that this place was like a body, a totally dysfunctional body,” Herfeldt states.
These conditions brought to mind Dark Star, the initial work cinematic piece featuring a smart spaceship that takes on a life of its own. As the exhibition's title suggests given the naming – three distinct names – more movies have inspired to have influenced the artist's presentation. Those labels indicate main characters from a horror classic, the iconic thriller and the extraterrestrial saga respectively. The artist references an academic paper by the American professor, outlining these surviving characters a distinctive cinematic theme – female characters isolated to overcome.
These figures are somewhat masculine, on the silent side and they endure because she’s quite clever,” the artist explains about such characters. “They don’t take drugs or engage intimately. It is irrelevant the audience's identity, everyone can relate to this character.”
Herfeldt sees a connection between these characters and her sculptures – objects which only staying put despite the pressures they’re under. Does this mean the art more about cultural decay beyond merely dripping roofs? Similar to various systems, substances like silicone intended to secure and shield against harm are gradually failing within society.
“Absolutely,” responds the artist.
Earlier in her career using foam materials, Herfeldt used alternative odd mediums. Previous exhibitions included tongue-like shapes using fabric similar to you might see on a sleeping bag or inside a jacket. Again there is the impression these strange items might animate – a few are compressed like caterpillars mid-crawl, others lollop down from walls or spill across doorways gathering grime from contact (The artist invites viewers to touch and dirty her art). Similar to the foam artworks, the textile works also occupy – and escaping from – inexpensive-seeming transparent cases. They’re ugly looking things, and really that’s the point.
“These works possess a certain aesthetic which makes one compelled by, and at the same time they’re very disgusting,” the artist comments with a smile. “It tries to be absent, however, it is highly noticeable.”
The artist does not create work to make you feel relaxation or aesthetically soothed. Conversely, her intention is to evoke discomfort, awkward, perhaps entertained. However, should you notice something wet dripping from above as well, don’t say the alert was given.