Exploring Lisa Herfeldt's Unsettling Silicone-Gun Sculptures: In Which Objects Seem Living

Should you be thinking about restroom upgrades, you may want not to choose hiring this German artist to handle it.

Certainly, Herfeldt is an expert with a silicone gun, crafting compelling creations out of an unusual substance. Yet the more observe the artworks, the stronger it becomes apparent that something is a little unnerving.

The dense strands of sealant she crafts reach beyond the shelves on which they sit, hanging over the sides to the ground. Those twisted tubular forms expand till they rupture. A few artworks leave their acrylic glass box homes entirely, turning into an attractor of debris and fibers. Let's just say the ratings might not get positive.

At times I get the feeling that objects seem animated in a room,” says the sculptor. Hence I started using silicone sealant as it offers a distinctly physical sensation and look.”

In fact one can detect somewhat grotesque about the artist's creations, from the phallic bulge jutting out, like a medical condition, off its base within the showspace, and the winding tubes of foam that rupture as if in crisis. Along a surface, are mounted photocopies depicting the sculptures captured in multiple views: they look like microscopic invaders observed under magnification, or growths on a petri-dish.

“It interests me is the idea inside human forms taking place which possess their own life,” the artist notes. Phenomena that are invisible or command.”

Regarding things she can’t control, the promotional image for the show includes a picture of the leaky ceiling in her own studio located in Berlin. The building had been made in the seventies and, she says, faced immediate dislike from residents since many historic structures were removed in order to make way for it. It was already dilapidated as the artist – a native of that city yet raised near Hamburg prior to moving to the capital in her youth – took up residence.

The rundown building proved challenging for the artist – it was risky to display her pieces without concern potential harm – but it was also compelling. With no building plans accessible, nobody had a clue how to repair the problems that developed. When the ceiling panel at the artist's area got thoroughly soaked it gave way completely, the only solution was to replace the panel with a new one – perpetuating the issue.

Elsewhere on the property, she describes the leaking was so bad that several shower basins were set up within the drop ceiling to divert the moisture elsewhere.

I understood that the structure acted as a physical form, an entirely malfunctioning system,” Herfeldt states.

The situation brought to mind Dark Star, the initial work cinematic piece about an AI-powered spacecraft that takes on a life of its own. As the exhibition's title suggests from the show’s title – three distinct names – that’s not the only film to have influenced the artist's presentation. The three names point to the leading women from a horror classic, another scary movie and Alien respectively. The artist references an academic paper written by Carol J Clover, outlining these “final girls” a distinctive cinematic theme – female characters isolated to overcome.

“She’s a bit tomboyish, reserved in nature and they endure because she’s quite clever,” she elaborates of the archetypal final girl. No drug use occurs or have sex. Regardless who is watching, everyone can relate to the survivor.”

The artist identifies a parallel between these characters to her artworks – things that are just about holding in place amidst stress they’re under. So is her work really concerning societal collapse beyond merely leaky ceilings? As with many structures, these materials that should seal and protect against harm in fact are decaying within society.

“Oh, totally,” she confirms.

Before finding inspiration in the silicone gun, Herfeldt used other unusual materials. Past displays have involved forms resembling tongues made from a synthetic material typical for within outdoor gear or inside a jacket. Similarly, one finds the sense these peculiar objects might animate – certain pieces are folded like caterpillars mid-crawl, some droop heavily from walls or extend through entries attracting dirt from footprints (The artist invites people to handle and dirty her art). As with earlier creations, the textile works are also housed in – and breaking out of – inexpensive-seeming display enclosures. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, and really that’s the point.

“They have a certain aesthetic that draws viewers compelled by, yet simultaneously being quite repulsive,” she says amusedly. “The art aims for absent, yet in reality extremely obvious.”

The artist does not create work to make you feel relaxation or visual calm. Instead, she wants you to feel discomfort, odd, maybe even amused. But if you start to feel a moist sensation from above as well, don’t say the alert was given.