Delving into Lisa Herfeldt's Unsettling Sealant-Based Art: Where Objects Seem Alive
Should you be thinking about washroom remodeling, you may want not to choose engaging the sculptor to handle it.
Indeed, she's highly skilled using sealant applicators, creating fascinating sculptures with a surprising art material. Yet the more examine her creations, the clearer one notices that an element feels slightly strange.
Those hefty tubes from the foam she produces extend over the shelves supporting them, hanging off the edges below. The knotty silicone strands expand till they rupture. A few artworks leave their acrylic glass box homes fully, evolving into a collector of debris and fibers. Let's just say the feedback would not be positive.
“I sometimes have this sense that things seem animated within a space,” says Herfeldt. “That’s why I started using silicone sealant due to its a distinctly physical feel and appearance.”
Indeed one can detect somewhat grotesque regarding these sculptures, starting with that protruding shape which extends, like a medical condition, from its cylindrical stand at the exhibition's heart, or the gut-like spirals of foam which split open resembling bodily failures. Along a surface, Herfeldt has framed photocopies showing the pieces seen from various perspectives: resembling squirming organisms picked up on a microscope, or growths on culture plates.
What captivates me that there are things in our bodies taking place that also have independent existence,” she says. “Things which remain unseen or manage.”
Talking of elements beyond her influence, the exhibition advertisement featured in the exhibition features a photograph showing a dripping roof within her workspace in Kreuzberg, Berlin. Constructed made in the seventies as she explains, faced immediate dislike among the community because a lot of older edifices got demolished for its development. By the time run-down as the artist – originally from Munich but grew up near Hamburg prior to moving to the capital as a teenager – moved in.
The rundown building caused issues for her work – it was risky to display her pieces without concern risk of ruin – however, it was compelling. Lacking architectural drawings accessible, nobody had a clue how to repair the malfunctions which occurred. When the ceiling panel at the artist's area became so sodden it gave way completely, the single remedy involved installing the panel with a new one – thus repeating the process.
At another site, Herfeldt says dripping was extreme so multiple collection units were installed in the suspended ceiling to channel the water to a different sink.
It dawned on me that the building was like a body, a completely flawed entity,” Herfeldt states.
These conditions brought to mind the sci-fi movie, John Carpenter’s debut 1974 film concerning a conscious ship that takes on a life of its own. Additionally, observers may note from the show’s title – three distinct names – more movies have inspired impacting this exhibition. The three names refer to main characters in the slasher film, the iconic thriller plus the sci-fi hit as listed. She mentions a 1987 essay from a scholar, outlining the last women standing a distinctive cinematic theme – women left alone to save the day.
These figures are somewhat masculine, on the silent side and they endure because she’s quite clever,” says Herfeldt of the archetypal final girl. They avoid substances or engage intimately. It is irrelevant who is watching, everyone can relate to the survivor.”
Herfeldt sees a similarity between these characters with her creations – things that are just about holding in place amidst stress they’re under. So is her work really concerning societal collapse than just dripping roofs? Because like so many institutions, substances like silicone intended to secure and shield us from damage are gradually failing within society.
“Oh, totally,” responds the artist.
Before finding inspiration in the silicone gun, she experimented with other unusual materials. Recent shows featured organic-looking pieces using a synthetic material found in on a sleeping bag or apparel lining. Again there is the impression these peculiar objects could come alive – a few are compressed resembling moving larvae, pieces hang loosely from walls blocking passages collecting debris from touch (The artist invites people to handle and soil the works). As with earlier creations, those fabric pieces are also housed in – leaving – budget-style acrylic glass boxes. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, and that's the essence.
“They have a specific look that somehow you feel compelled by, and at the same time being quite repulsive,” Herfeldt remarks with a smile. “It tries to be invisible, however, it is highly noticeable.”
Herfeldt's goal isn't art to provide comfortable or visual calm. Conversely, her intention is to evoke unease, odd, or even humor. And if there's water droplets on your head as well, don’t say the alert was given.