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

If you're planning bathroom renovations, you may want to steer clear of hiring this German artist for such tasks.

Truly, she's highly skilled in handling foam materials, producing compelling sculptures out of an unusual medium. But as you observe her creations, the more one notices that something feels slightly strange.

The dense lengths made of silicone she crafts extend past the shelves where they rest, sagging downwards towards the floor. The knotty tubular forms expand until they split. A few artworks escape their transparent enclosures entirely, turning into a magnet for dust and hair. It's safe to say the feedback are unlikely to earn favorable.

“I sometimes have this sense that items are alive in a room,” states the German artist. Hence I turned to this substance because it has such an organic feel and appearance.”

Certainly there is an element rather body horror regarding the artist's creations, including the phallic bulge which extends, similar to a rupture, off its base in the centre of the gallery, or the gut-like spirals of foam which split open resembling bodily failures. On one wall, Herfeldt has framed images showing the pieces captured in multiple views: they look like squirming organisms seen in scientific samples, or colonies on culture plates.

“It interests me that there are things inside human forms happening which possess their own life,” the artist notes. Phenomena you can’t see or manage.”

On the subject of unmanageable factors, the poster for the show features a photograph of the leaky ceiling in her own studio in Kreuzberg, Berlin. The building had been made in the seventies and, she says, was quickly despised from residents because a lot of old buildings got demolished to allow its construction. It was already in a state of disrepair upon her – originally from Munich although she spent her youth in northern Germany before arriving in Berlin during her teens – took up residence.

This deteriorating space caused issues for her work – she couldn’t hang her art works without fearing potential harm – however, it was fascinating. Lacking architectural drawings available, no one knew the way to fix any of the issues that arose. Once an overhead section within her workspace was saturated enough it collapsed entirely, the sole fix meant swapping it with another – thus repeating the process.

Elsewhere on the property, the artist explains the leaking was so bad that several collection units were set up above the false roof in order to redirect the moisture elsewhere.

It dawned on me that the structure was like a body, a totally dysfunctional body,” Herfeldt states.

This scenario evoked memories of a classic film, John Carpenter’s debut movie from the seventies featuring a smart spaceship that takes on a life of its own. Additionally, observers may note given the naming – three distinct names – that’s not the only film impacting Herfeldt’s show. Those labels indicate main characters in the slasher film, Halloween and Alien as listed. The artist references a critical analysis by the American professor, outlining these “final girls” an original movie concept – protagonists by themselves to save the day.

These figures are somewhat masculine, reserved in nature and she can survive due to intelligence,” says Herfeldt of the archetypal final girl. They avoid substances or engage intimately. Regardless the viewer’s gender, we can all identify with this character.”

The artist identifies a connection between these characters with her creations – objects which only maintaining position despite the pressures they face. Does this mean the art more about social breakdown than just leaky ceilings? Because like so many institutions, substances like silicone intended to secure and shield against harm are gradually failing around us.

“Absolutely,” she confirms.

Prior to discovering her medium using foam materials, Herfeldt used alternative odd mediums. Recent shows included organic-looking pieces crafted from fabric similar to found in within outdoor gear or inside a jacket. Similarly, one finds the feeling such unusual creations seem lifelike – some are concertinaed as insects in motion, some droop heavily on vertical planes or extend through entries attracting dirt from footprints (She prompts viewers to touch and dirty her art). Similar to the foam artworks, those fabric pieces also occupy – and escaping from – budget-style display enclosures. These are unattractive objects, and that's the essence.

“The sculptures exhibit a specific look that somehow you feel highly drawn to, yet simultaneously they’re very disgusting,” Herfeldt remarks amusedly. “It attempts to seem absent, however, it is very present.”

The artist does not create work to make you feel comfortable or aesthetically soothed. Rather, she wants you to feel discomfort, awkward, perhaps entertained. And if there's water droplets from above additionally, remember this was foreshadowed.

Lauren Butler
Lauren Butler

Award-winning poet and writing coach passionate about fostering creativity through accessible and engaging content.