Unveiling Lisa Herfeldt's Eerie Sealant-Based Art: Where Objects Feel Living

When considering washroom remodeling, it's advisable to avoid engaging the sculptor to handle it.

Truly, Herfeldt is highly skilled using sealant applicators, crafting compelling sculptures from this unlikely art material. However longer you examine these pieces, the more you realise that an element feels slightly off.

The dense strands of sealant she crafts reach past their supports where they rest, sagging over the sides below. The knotty silicone strands expand until they split. Certain pieces break free from their acrylic glass box homes fully, turning into a magnet of debris and fibers. One could imagine the ratings might not get favorable.

There are moments I feel the feeling that things are alive inside an area,” says the sculptor. This is why I turned to silicone sealant because it has this very bodily texture and feeling.”

In fact there’s something rather body horror in Herfeldt’s work, starting with that protruding shape jutting out, similar to a rupture, from the support at the exhibition's heart, and the winding tubes from the material that rupture as if in crisis. On one wall, are mounted photocopies showing the pieces seen from various perspectives: appearing as microscopic invaders observed under magnification, or formations in a lab setting.

What captivates me is the idea inside human forms happening which possess independent existence,” Herfeldt explains. Elements that are invisible or command.”

Talking of unmanageable factors, the exhibition advertisement featured in the exhibition includes a photograph of the leaky ceiling in her own studio located in Berlin. It was made in the seventies and, she says, was quickly despised by local people as numerous old buildings were torn down for its development. The place was in a state of disrepair as the artist – who was born in Munich yet raised near Hamburg prior to moving to the capital as a teenager – took up residence.

This deteriorating space was frustrating to Herfeldt – it was risky to display the sculptures without concern potential harm – however, it was intriguing. Lacking architectural drawings available, nobody had a clue the way to fix the malfunctions which occurred. When the ceiling panel within her workspace was saturated enough it collapsed entirely, the only solution involved installing it with another – thus repeating the process.

At another site, she describes the water intrusion was severe that a series of collection units were installed in the suspended ceiling to channel the moisture elsewhere.

I understood that the structure acted as a physical form, a completely flawed entity,” the artist comments.

This scenario brought to mind a classic film, John Carpenter’s debut 1974 film featuring a smart spaceship that takes on a life of its own. And as you might notice from the show’s title – three distinct names – that’s not the only film shaping this exhibition. These titles refer to main characters from a horror classic, another scary movie and the extraterrestrial saga respectively. She mentions a 1987 essay from a scholar, which identifies these surviving characters as a unique film trope – protagonists by themselves to save the day.

“She’s a bit tomboyish, on the silent side enabling their survival due to intelligence,” says Herfeldt regarding this trope. No drug use occurs or engage intimately. It is irrelevant the audience's identity, we can all identify with the survivor.”

The artist identifies a connection from these protagonists with her creations – objects which only staying put amidst stress affecting them. So is her work really concerning social breakdown rather than simply dripping roofs? As with many structures, such components that should seal and protect from deterioration are gradually failing around us.

“Completely,” responds the artist.

Prior to discovering her medium in the silicone gun, Herfeldt used different unconventional substances. Previous exhibitions have involved forms resembling tongues using fabric similar to typical for on a sleeping bag or in coats. Once more, there's the impression such unusual creations might animate – certain pieces are folded resembling moving larvae, some droop heavily off surfaces blocking passages collecting debris from touch (The artist invites people to handle and dirty her art). Similar to the foam artworks, the textile works are also housed in – and breaking out of – budget-style acrylic glass boxes. They’re ugly looking things, which is intentional.

“They have a certain aesthetic which makes one very attracted to, while also appearing gross,” she says with a smile. “It attempts to seem invisible, but it’s actually highly noticeable.”

Herfeldt is not making work to make you feel comfortable or beauty. Conversely, her intention is to evoke discomfort, awkward, or even humor. However, should you notice something wet dripping from above too, remember the alert was given.

Maria Le
Maria Le

A dermatologist with over 10 years of experience specializing in hair restoration treatments and patient care.