🔗 Share this article

When considering bathroom renovations, you may want not to choose employing Lisa Herfeldt for such tasks.

Certainly, Herfeldt is an expert with a silicone gun, crafting intriguing creations with a surprising art material. However longer you examine the artworks, the stronger one notices that an element feels slightly off.

The dense tubes from the foam she crafts stretch over the shelves on which they sit, sagging over the sides to the ground. Those twisted tubular forms swell before bursting open. A few artworks leave the display cases completely, evolving into a collector for dust and hair. One could imagine the ratings would not be pretty.

At times I get this sense that objects possess life within a space,” says the sculptor. “That’s why I turned to this foam material because it has such an organic sensation and look.”

In fact one can detect almost visceral in the artist's creations, from that protruding shape which extends, like a medical condition, from the support in the centre of the gallery, and the winding tubes made of silicone that burst resembling bodily failures. Along a surface, Herfeldt has framed prints showing the pieces viewed from different angles: resembling squirming organisms picked up on a microscope, or formations on a petri-dish.

“It interests me is how certain elements inside human forms occurring that also have a life of their own,” the artist notes. “Things you can’t see or manage.”

Regarding elements beyond her influence, the exhibition advertisement featured in the exhibition displays an image showing a dripping roof within her workspace located in Berlin. It was erected decades ago and according to her, faced immediate dislike among the community as numerous old buildings were torn down in order to make way for it. It was already in a state of disrepair when Herfeldt – originally from Munich yet raised in northern Germany prior to moving to the capital in her youth – moved in.

This decrepit property proved challenging for the artist – it was risky to display her art works without fearing potential harm – however, it was compelling. Without any blueprints available, no one knew how to repair the problems that developed. When the ceiling panel in Herfeldt’s studio was saturated enough it gave way completely, the only solution involved installing it with another – and so the cycle continued.

In a different area, she describes dripping was extreme that a series of collection units were set up in the suspended ceiling to channel the water to a different sink.

I understood that this place acted as a physical form, a completely flawed entity,” she says.

These conditions reminded her of a classic film, the initial work cinematic piece featuring a smart spaceship that develops independence. Additionally, observers may note given the naming – a trio of references – other cinematic works influenced impacting the artist's presentation. The three names refer to main characters in the slasher film, Halloween and the extraterrestrial saga as listed. The artist references a 1987 essay written by Carol J Clover, outlining these surviving characters an original movie concept – protagonists by themselves to overcome.

“She’s a bit tomboyish, on the silent side and she can survive thanks to resourcefulness,” she elaborates of the archetypal final girl. “They don’t take drugs nor sexual activity. It is irrelevant the viewer’s gender, all empathize with the final girl.”

The artist identifies a connection from these protagonists to her artworks – elements that barely staying put despite the pressures affecting them. Is the exhibition more about cultural decay rather than simply dripping roofs? As with many structures, substances like silicone intended to secure and shield against harm are gradually failing within society.

“Oh, totally,” says Herfeldt.

Before finding inspiration in the silicone gun, Herfeldt used other unusual materials. Previous exhibitions included tongue-like shapes crafted from fabric similar to found in within outdoor gear or in coats. Again there is the feeling these strange items seem lifelike – a few are compressed resembling moving larvae, pieces hang loosely on vertical planes or spill across doorways attracting dirt from footprints (She prompts viewers to touch and dirty her art). As with earlier creations, these nylon creations are also housed in – leaving – inexpensive-seeming display enclosures. These are unattractive objects, which is intentional.

“The sculptures exhibit a particular style that somehow you feel compelled by, yet simultaneously being quite repulsive,” the artist comments grinning. “It tries to be absent, yet in reality highly noticeable.”

Herfeldt's goal isn't pieces that offer comfortable or aesthetically soothed. Conversely, she aims for uncomfortable, strange, or even humor. But if you start to feel a moist sensation overhead as well, don’t say the alert was given.