Exploring the Unsettling Sealant-Based Sculptures: In Which Objects Appear Alive

Should you be thinking about bathroom renovations, you may want to avoid hiring Lisa Herfeldt to handle it.

Certainly, she's a whiz in handling foam materials, creating fascinating creations from this unlikely medium. Yet longer you look at the artworks, the clearer one notices a certain aspect is a little unnerving.

Those hefty tubes from the foam Herfeldt forms stretch past the shelves on which they sit, sagging downwards to the ground. The knotty foam pipes swell until they split. A few artworks break free from the display cases fully, becoming a magnet for grime and particles. One could imagine the feedback are unlikely to earn pretty.

There are moments I feel this sense that things are alive in a room,” says the sculptor. This is why I came to use silicone sealant as it offers a distinctly physical texture and feeling.”

Certainly one can detect rather body horror regarding the artist's creations, including that protruding shape which extends, similar to a rupture, from the support at the exhibition's heart, to the intestinal coils of foam which split open resembling bodily failures. Along a surface, are mounted photocopies of the works viewed from different angles: they look like microscopic invaders seen in scientific samples, or formations on a petri-dish.

What captivates me is how certain elements inside human forms happening that seem to hold independent existence,” Herfeldt explains. “Things you can’t see or control.”

On the subject of unmanageable factors, the promotional image featured in the exhibition includes an image of the leaky ceiling in her own studio located in Berlin. Constructed made in the seventies and according to her, faced immediate dislike among the community since many older edifices got demolished in order to make way for it. It was already run-down upon her – who was born in Munich although she spent her youth in northern Germany before arriving in Berlin as a teenager – began using the space.

This decrepit property was frustrating for the artist – she couldn’t hang her art works anxiously they might be damaged – however, it was fascinating. Without any blueprints on hand, no one knew how to repair the problems that arose. When the ceiling panel in Herfeldt’s studio became so sodden it collapsed entirely, the single remedy involved installing it with another – thus repeating the process.

Elsewhere on the property, she describes the leaking was so bad that a series of collection units were set up within the drop ceiling in order to redirect the water to a different sink.

I understood that the structure was like a body, a completely flawed entity,” the artist comments.

The situation evoked memories of a classic film, John Carpenter’s debut cinematic piece featuring a smart spaceship that takes on a life of its own. And as you might notice given the naming – Alice, Laurie & Ripley – more movies have inspired impacting Herfeldt’s show. The three names point to the leading women in Friday 13th, the iconic thriller plus the sci-fi hit in that order. She mentions a 1987 essay written by Carol J Clover, which identifies these surviving characters an original movie concept – female characters isolated to save the day.

These figures are somewhat masculine, reserved in nature and they endure thanks to resourcefulness,” says Herfeldt of the archetypal final girl. They avoid substances or have sex. Regardless the audience's identity, we can all identify with the survivor.”

She draws a parallel between these characters to her artworks – objects which only holding in place amidst stress affecting them. Does this mean the art more about societal collapse than just leaky ceilings? Similar to various systems, these materials that should seal and protect us from damage are gradually failing within society.

“Completely,” she confirms.

Before finding inspiration using foam materials, she experimented with other unusual materials. Recent shows have involved tongue-like shapes made from a synthetic material found in within outdoor gear or in coats. Similarly, one finds the sense these strange items might animate – a few are compressed resembling moving larvae, others lollop down from walls or spill across doorways gathering grime from contact (Herfeldt encourages viewers to touch and soil the works). Similar to the foam artworks, these nylon creations are similarly displayed in – leaving – inexpensive-seeming display enclosures. They’re ugly looking things, which is intentional.

“They have a particular style which makes one compelled by, while also appearing gross,” Herfeldt remarks grinning. “It attempts to seem absent, but it’s actually highly noticeable.”

Herfeldt is not making art to provide ease or aesthetically soothed. Conversely, she aims for uncomfortable, odd, or even humor. However, should you notice water droplets overhead as well, don’t say you haven’t been warned.