Delving into Lisa Herfeldt's Eerie Sealant-Based Artistry: Where Objects Appear Animated

If you're planning bathroom renovations, it might be wise to avoid employing this German artist for the job.

Truly, Herfeldt is highly skilled with a silicone gun, creating fascinating artworks out of an unusual medium. But longer you look at these pieces, the clearer you realise that an element feels slightly off.

The thick tubes from the foam she produces stretch past display surfaces on which they sit, sagging over the sides below. Those twisted silicone strands swell before bursting open. A few artworks escape their transparent enclosures entirely, evolving into a magnet for dust and hair. One could imagine the ratings would not be pretty.

There are moments I feel an impression that things seem animated within a space,” remarks Herfeldt. “That’s why I started using this foam material as it offers a distinctly physical feel and appearance.”

In fact there’s something rather body horror about the artist's creations, from the suggestive swelling which extends, hernia-like, from the support within the showspace, and the winding tubes from the material that burst like medical emergencies. On one wall, the artist presents photocopies showing the pieces seen from various perspectives: appearing as wormy parasites seen in scientific samples, or growths on culture plates.

I am fascinated by is the idea in our bodies occurring that also have independent existence,” Herfeldt explains. “Things you can’t see or command.”

On the subject of unmanageable factors, the exhibition advertisement promoting the event includes a picture of the leaky ceiling in her own studio located in Berlin. Constructed erected decades ago and according to her, was instantly hated among the community since many older edifices got demolished for its development. The place was run-down as the artist – a native of that city yet raised north of Hamburg then relocating to Berlin as a teenager – took up residence.

This deteriorating space caused issues for the artist – she couldn’t hang her art works without fearing potential harm – but it was also fascinating. Without any blueprints accessible, no one knew how to repair the problems that developed. After a part of the roof at the artist's area was saturated enough it collapsed entirely, the sole fix was to replace the damaged part – and so the cycle continued.

In a different area, Herfeldt says the water intrusion was severe so multiple collection units were installed above the false roof in order to redirect the moisture elsewhere.

“I realised that the structure resembled an organism, a completely flawed entity,” the artist comments.

These conditions brought to mind Dark Star, the director's first movie from the seventies featuring a smart spaceship which becomes autonomous. And as you might notice through the heading – a trio of references – that’s not the only film impacting this exhibition. Those labels point to the female protagonists in Friday 13th, the iconic thriller and Alien in that order. The artist references an academic paper written by Carol J Clover, outlining these “final girls” as a unique film trope – protagonists by themselves to save the day.

“She’s a bit tomboyish, rather quiet and they endure thanks to resourcefulness,” she elaborates regarding this trope. No drug use occurs or engage intimately. And it doesn’t matter the viewer’s gender, everyone can relate to this character.”

The artist identifies a similarity linking these figures with her creations – objects which only staying put despite the pressures they face. Does this mean the art really concerning societal collapse beyond merely leaky ceilings? As with many structures, these materials intended to secure and shield us from damage are actually slowly eroding around us.

“Absolutely,” she confirms.

Earlier in her career in the silicone gun, Herfeldt used alternative odd mediums. Recent shows featured organic-looking pieces using the kind of nylon fabric you might see on a sleeping bag or inside a jacket. Once more, there's the sense such unusual creations might animate – some are concertinaed like caterpillars mid-crawl, others lollop down from walls or extend through entries attracting dirt from footprints (The artist invites audiences to interact and dirty her art). Similar to the foam artworks, these nylon creations are also housed in – and breaking out of – inexpensive-seeming acrylic glass boxes. These are unattractive objects, and really that’s the point.

“The sculptures exhibit a certain aesthetic that somehow you feel highly drawn to, yet simultaneously appearing gross,” she says amusedly. “It tries to be invisible, however, it is highly noticeable.”

Herfeldt is not making art to provide ease or aesthetically soothed. Conversely, she wants you to feel discomfort, strange, perhaps entertained. However, should you notice a moist sensation from above as well, don’t say the alert was given.