Delving into Lisa Herfeldt's Eerie Silicone-Gun Artistry: In Which Things Feel Alive

If you're planning restroom upgrades, it might be wise to avoid engaging Lisa Herfeldt for the job.

Truly, Herfeldt is a whiz with a silicone gun, crafting fascinating creations out of an unusual substance. Yet the more look at the artworks, the stronger one notices that an element feels slightly strange.

The dense strands of sealant Herfeldt forms reach beyond their supports where they rest, hanging downwards below. The knotty silicone strands swell before bursting open. Certain pieces escape their acrylic glass box homes entirely, evolving into a collector for grime and particles. Let's just say the feedback would not be pretty.

There are moments I feel an impression that items seem animated in a room,” remarks the sculptor. “That’s why I turned to this substance as it offers this very bodily texture and feeling.”

In fact there’s something rather body horror regarding these sculptures, starting with that protruding shape that protrudes, hernia-like, off its base at the exhibition's heart, to the intestinal coils from the material that burst like medical emergencies. On one wall, the artist presents images of the works seen from various perspectives: appearing as microscopic invaders observed under magnification, or formations in a lab setting.

“It interests me is how certain elements inside human forms happening that seem to hold independent existence,” she says. “Things which remain unseen or manage.”

Regarding elements beyond her influence, the poster featured in the exhibition includes a photograph of the leaky ceiling within her workspace in the German capital. The building had been erected decades ago and according to her, faced immediate dislike among the community as numerous old buildings were torn down to allow its construction. The place was run-down upon her – originally from Munich yet raised near Hamburg before arriving in Berlin during her teens – took up residence.

The rundown building caused issues for the artist – it was risky to display her art works without fearing risk of ruin – but it was also fascinating. Without any blueprints accessible, no one knew how to repair any of the issues that developed. Once an overhead section within her workspace became so sodden it collapsed entirely, the sole fix involved installing it with another – perpetuating the issue.

At another site, she describes the water intrusion was severe so multiple collection units were installed above the false roof to channel the water to a different sink.

I understood that this place was like a body, a totally dysfunctional body,” she says.

This scenario reminded her of Dark Star, the initial work movie from the seventies featuring a smart spaceship that takes on a life of its own. Additionally, observers may note given the naming – Alice, Laurie & Ripley – other cinematic works influenced to have influenced the artist's presentation. These titles point to the female protagonists from a horror classic, another scary movie plus the sci-fi hit as listed. Herfeldt cites a critical analysis from a scholar, that describes the last women standing a distinctive cinematic theme – women left alone to overcome.

“She’s a bit tomboyish, reserved in nature and they endure thanks to resourcefulness,” says Herfeldt about such characters. “They don’t take drugs or have sex. And it doesn’t matter the audience's identity, all empathize with the survivor.”

She draws a connection from these protagonists to her artworks – elements that barely staying put under strain they face. Is the exhibition focused on cultural decay beyond merely leaky ceilings? Similar to various systems, such components intended to secure and shield against harm in fact are decaying around us.

“Completely,” says Herfeldt.

Earlier in her career with sealant applicators, she experimented with different unconventional substances. Previous exhibitions have involved forms resembling tongues crafted from the kind of nylon fabric typical for in insulated clothing or inside a jacket. Once more, there's the sense these peculiar objects could come alive – a few are compressed as insects in motion, some droop heavily from walls or spill across doorways attracting dirt from footprints (The artist invites people to handle and dirty her art). Similar to the foam artworks, these nylon creations also occupy – and breaking out of – cheap looking acrylic glass boxes. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, and really that’s the point.

“The sculptures exhibit a specific look that somehow you feel very attracted to, and at the same time being quite repulsive,” the artist comments grinning. “The art aims for invisible, but it’s actually extremely obvious.”

Herfeldt's goal isn't pieces that offer relaxation or visual calm. Conversely, she aims for uncomfortable, strange, perhaps entertained. But if you start to feel water droplets on your head additionally, consider yourself this was foreshadowed.

Morgan Beasley
Morgan Beasley

Sustainable architect and writer passionate about eco-friendly design and geodesic structures, sharing insights from years of experience.