Delving into Lisa Herfeldt's Sinister Sealant-Based Art: Where Objects Seem Alive

When considering bathroom renovations, it's advisable to avoid employing this German artist to handle it.

Truly, she's a whiz in handling foam materials, crafting intriguing sculptures with a surprising medium. However the more look at the artworks, the stronger it becomes apparent that something feels slightly strange.

The thick strands from the foam she crafts stretch beyond their supports where they rest, hanging over the sides below. The knotty silicone strands bulge before bursting open. Certain pieces break free from their acrylic glass box homes completely, becoming a magnet for dust and hair. One could imagine the reviews might not get favorable.

“I sometimes have the feeling that things seem animated within a space,” says the sculptor. This is why I started using silicone sealant due to its a distinctly physical texture and feeling.”

Certainly there’s something somewhat grotesque regarding these sculptures, including the suggestive swelling which extends, similar to a rupture, from the support at the exhibition's heart, and the winding tubes made of silicone that burst like medical emergencies. Displayed nearby, Herfeldt has framed photocopies showing the pieces seen from various perspectives: resembling wormy parasites picked up on a microscope, or colonies on a petri-dish.

“It interests me is how certain elements inside human forms occurring which possess a life of their own,” the artist notes. Phenomena that are invisible or command.”

Regarding unmanageable factors, the poster featured in the exhibition features a picture of the leaky ceiling at her creative space located in Berlin. Constructed built in the early 1970s and, she says, was quickly despised among the community as numerous older edifices were torn down in order to make way for it. The place was in a state of disrepair upon her – originally from Munich yet raised north of Hamburg then relocating to Berlin in her youth – began using the space.

This decrepit property was frustrating to Herfeldt – placing artworks was difficult her art works without concern risk of ruin – yet it also proved fascinating. Without any blueprints accessible, nobody had a clue how to repair the malfunctions that arose. After a part of the roof within her workspace was saturated enough it gave way completely, the only solution meant swapping the damaged part – and so the cycle continued.

Elsewhere on the property, Herfeldt says the water intrusion was severe that several drainage containers were set up in the suspended ceiling to channel leaks to another outlet.

It dawned on me that this place was like a body, a completely flawed entity,” the artist comments.

This scenario brought to mind the sci-fi movie, the initial work 1974 film concerning a conscious ship that develops independence. As the exhibition's title suggests from the show’s title – Alice, Laurie & Ripley – other cinematic works influenced shaping this exhibition. Those labels indicate the leading women in the slasher film, the iconic thriller plus the sci-fi hit respectively. She mentions a 1987 essay by the American professor, that describes these “final girls” an original movie concept – female characters isolated to save the day.

These figures are somewhat masculine, rather quiet and she can survive thanks to resourcefulness,” the artist explains about such characters. They avoid substances nor sexual activity. Regardless the viewer’s gender, we can all identify with this character.”

The artist identifies a connection between these characters with her creations – things that are just about maintaining position under strain they face. Is the exhibition more about social breakdown beyond merely leaky ceilings? Similar to various systems, these materials intended to secure and shield us from damage in fact are decaying within society.

“Completely,” responds the artist.

Earlier in her career using foam materials, Herfeldt used alternative odd mediums. Recent shows featured forms resembling tongues made from the kind of nylon fabric you might see in insulated clothing or inside a jacket. Once more, there's the impression such unusual creations could come alive – a few are compressed resembling moving larvae, pieces hang loosely off surfaces or extend through entries gathering grime from contact (Herfeldt encourages viewers to touch and dirty her art). As with earlier creations, the textile works also occupy – and breaking out of – cheap looking transparent cases. They’re ugly looking things, which is intentional.

“They have a particular style that draws viewers very attracted to, and at the same time appearing gross,” Herfeldt remarks with a smile. “It attempts to seem invisible, however, it is highly noticeable.”

The artist does not create work to make you feel ease or aesthetically soothed. Conversely, she wants you to feel discomfort, strange, or even humor. But if you start to feel something wet dripping on your head too, consider yourself this was foreshadowed.