Delving into Lisa Herfeldt's Sinister Silicone-Gun Art: Where Things Seem Alive
If you're planning washroom remodeling, you may want not to choose engaging this German artist to handle it.
Indeed, Herfeldt is highly skilled in handling foam materials, producing fascinating sculptures from this unlikely medium. However the more look at these pieces, the more one notices that an element is a little strange.
The thick strands made of silicone Herfeldt forms stretch past their supports where they rest, hanging over the sides to the ground. The knotty silicone strands swell before bursting open. Some creations leave their transparent enclosures fully, becoming a magnet for dust and hair. It's safe to say the ratings are unlikely to earn positive.
“I sometimes have the feeling that objects possess life in a room,” remarks the German artist. Hence I came to use this substance as it offers this very bodily sensation and look.”
In fact there’s something almost visceral about the artist's creations, from the suggestive swelling which extends, like a medical condition, off its base in the centre of the gallery, to the intestinal coils from the material that rupture as if in crisis. Along a surface, the artist presents photocopies showing the pieces seen from various perspectives: they look like microscopic invaders observed under magnification, or growths in a lab setting.
“It interests me is how certain elements inside human forms happening which possess their own life,” she says. Elements that are invisible or manage.”
On the subject of unmanageable factors, the poster featured in the exhibition displays a photograph showing a dripping roof in her own studio in Kreuzberg, Berlin. Constructed built in the early 1970s and according to her, faced immediate dislike by local people because a lot of historic structures got demolished to allow its construction. The place was dilapidated as the artist – a native of that city but grew up near Hamburg prior to moving to the capital in her youth – moved in.
This deteriorating space proved challenging for the artist – placing artworks was difficult the sculptures anxiously potential harm – yet it also proved intriguing. With no building plans accessible, nobody had a clue methods to address any of the issues that arose. After a part of the roof in Herfeldt’s studio got thoroughly soaked it collapsed entirely, the only solution meant swapping it with another – thus repeating the process.
At another site, the artist explains the leaking was so bad so multiple drainage containers were installed within the drop ceiling to divert the moisture elsewhere.
I understood that this place acted as a physical form, an entirely malfunctioning system,” Herfeldt states.
This scenario reminded her of the sci-fi movie, John Carpenter’s debut cinematic piece featuring a smart spaceship that takes on a life of its own. And as you might notice from the show’s title – Alice, Laurie & Ripley – that’s not the only film impacting this exhibition. Those labels indicate main characters from a horror classic, Halloween plus the sci-fi hit as listed. She mentions a critical analysis written by Carol J Clover, that describes these “final girls” a distinctive cinematic theme – female characters isolated to save the day.
They often display toughness, rather quiet and they endure due to intelligence,” she elaborates about such characters. No drug use occurs nor sexual activity. Regardless the audience's identity, we can all identify with the final girl.”
Herfeldt sees a similarity linking these figures with her creations – elements that barely staying put under strain they’re under. Is the exhibition really concerning cultural decay beyond merely water damage? Similar to various systems, substances like silicone meant to insulate and guard against harm are actually slowly eroding within society.
“Completely,” says Herfeldt.
Before finding inspiration with sealant applicators, the artist worked with different unconventional substances. Past displays have involved tongue-like shapes using a synthetic material typical for in insulated clothing or apparel lining. Similarly, one finds the impression these peculiar objects might animate – certain pieces are folded like caterpillars mid-crawl, some droop heavily on vertical planes or extend through entries attracting dirt from footprints (The artist invites viewers to touch and dirty her art). Like the silicone sculptures, those fabric pieces are similarly displayed in – and escaping from – budget-style display enclosures. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, and that's the essence.
“These works possess a certain aesthetic that somehow you feel compelled by, and at the same time they’re very disgusting,” Herfeldt remarks amusedly. “It attempts to seem invisible, yet in reality highly noticeable.”
The artist does not create work to make you feel ease or aesthetically soothed. Rather, she wants you to feel uncomfortable, odd, or even humor. But if you start to feel something wet dripping on your head too, consider yourself the alert was given.