Unveiling Lisa Herfeldt's Unsettling Silicone-Gun Art: Where Objects Feel Alive

If you're planning washroom remodeling, you may want to avoid hiring the sculptor to handle it.

Indeed, Herfeldt is highly skilled in handling foam materials, producing compelling sculptures out of an unusual art material. But longer you look at her creations, the more it becomes apparent that something seems somewhat unnerving.

The thick lengths from the foam she crafts extend over display surfaces on which they sit, hanging downwards towards the floor. The knotty silicone strands bulge until they split. A few artworks escape their acrylic glass box homes entirely, evolving into an attractor for grime and particles. One could imagine the ratings are unlikely to earn pretty.

At times I get an impression that things are alive inside an area,” states the German artist. Hence I turned to this foam material as it offers such an organic sensation and look.”

In fact there is an element almost visceral about the artist's creations, from that protruding shape that protrudes, similar to a rupture, off its base in the centre of the gallery, or the gut-like spirals of foam which split open as if in crisis. Displayed nearby, Herfeldt has framed photocopies depicting the sculptures captured in multiple views: they look like microscopic invaders seen in scientific samples, or growths on culture plates.

What captivates me is the idea within us taking place which possess a life of their own,” Herfeldt explains. Phenomena you can’t see or manage.”

On the subject of unmanageable factors, the exhibition advertisement for the show includes an image of the leaky ceiling in her own studio in Kreuzberg, Berlin. It was erected decades ago and according to her, faced immediate dislike by local people since many older edifices were removed in order to make way for it. The place was run-down upon her – a native of that city although she spent her youth near Hamburg before arriving in Berlin in her youth – took up residence.

The rundown building was frustrating for the artist – it was risky to display her pieces anxiously risk of ruin – yet it also proved fascinating. Without any blueprints accessible, it was unclear how to repair the malfunctions which occurred. Once an overhead section in Herfeldt’s studio was saturated enough it collapsed entirely, the single remedy meant swapping the damaged part – perpetuating the issue.

Elsewhere on the property, Herfeldt says the leaking was so bad that a series of shower basins were set up above the false roof to divert leaks to another outlet.

I understood that the building resembled an organism, an entirely malfunctioning system,” the artist comments.

The situation brought to mind 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 – a trio of references – that’s not the only film to have influenced Herfeldt’s show. The three names indicate the female protagonists in the slasher film, the iconic thriller plus the sci-fi hit in that order. She mentions a 1987 essay from a scholar, outlining these “final girls” a distinctive cinematic theme – women left alone to triumph.

“She’s a bit tomboyish, reserved in nature enabling their survival due to intelligence,” says Herfeldt regarding this trope. “They don’t take drugs or have sex. Regardless the viewer’s gender, everyone can relate to the final girl.”

Herfeldt sees a similarity from these protagonists and her sculptures – elements that barely maintaining position under strain they face. Is the exhibition more about cultural decay rather than simply water damage? As with many structures, such components intended to secure and shield against harm are gradually failing in our environment.

“Completely,” responds the artist.

Before finding inspiration in the silicone gun, Herfeldt used different unconventional substances. Recent shows have involved organic-looking pieces crafted from a synthetic material found in in insulated clothing or in coats. Again there is the impression such unusual creations could come alive – a few are compressed resembling moving larvae, others lollop down off surfaces or spill across doorways attracting dirt from footprints (She prompts people to handle and dirty her art). Like the silicone sculptures, those fabric pieces are similarly displayed in – leaving – cheap looking display enclosures. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, which is intentional.

“These works possess a certain aesthetic that draws viewers highly drawn to, and at the same time being quite repulsive,” she says with a smile. “It attempts to seem invisible, but it’s actually extremely obvious.”

Herfeldt's goal isn't pieces that offer ease or visual calm. Instead, her intention is to evoke discomfort, odd, maybe even amused. But if you start to feel something wet dripping from above additionally, consider yourself the alert was given.

Benjamin Beard
Benjamin Beard

A tech-savvy writer with a passion for innovation, sharing insights and trends in the digital world.