Exploring the Unsettling Sealant-Based Art: Where Things Seem Alive

If you're planning washroom remodeling, it's advisable to steer clear of hiring Lisa Herfeldt to handle it.

Indeed, she's highly skilled in handling foam materials, producing intriguing sculptures out of an unusual art material. But as you look at the artworks, the clearer one notices a certain aspect seems somewhat off.

The dense tubes of sealant she crafts stretch beyond their supports supporting them, drooping over the sides to the ground. The knotty tubular forms expand before bursting open. A few artworks break free from the display cases fully, becoming a magnet for grime and particles. One could imagine the ratings might not get positive.

“I sometimes have this sense that items possess life in a room,” remarks the sculptor. Hence I came to use this substance as it offers such an organic feel and appearance.”

Indeed there’s something almost visceral about the artist's creations, including the suggestive swelling jutting out, similar to a rupture, off its base within the showspace, to the intestinal coils from the material that burst resembling bodily failures. Along a surface, Herfeldt has framed prints showing the pieces seen from various perspectives: they look like microscopic invaders seen in scientific samples, or colonies in a lab setting.

“It interests me is how certain elements in our bodies occurring that also have their own life,” Herfeldt explains. Phenomena you can’t see or manage.”

On the subject of unmanageable factors, the promotional image for the show displays a photograph showing a dripping roof within her workspace located in Berlin. It was made in the seventies and according to her, faced immediate dislike by local people since many older edifices were removed in order to make way for it. It was already run-down when Herfeldt – a native of that city although she spent her youth in northern Germany before arriving in Berlin in her youth – began using the space.

This decrepit property proved challenging for the artist – it was risky to display her art works without concern potential harm – however, it was compelling. With no building plans available, it was unclear the way to fix any of the issues that developed. When the ceiling panel in Herfeldt’s studio became so sodden it fell apart fully, the only solution was to replace it with another – and so the cycle continued.

In a different area, the artist explains the leaking was so bad that several drainage containers got placed above the false roof to channel leaks to another outlet.

“I realised that this place was like a body, an entirely malfunctioning system,” Herfeldt states.

The situation brought to mind a classic film, John Carpenter’s debut cinematic piece featuring a smart spaceship that takes on a life of its own. Additionally, observers may note given the naming – a trio of references – more movies have inspired impacting Herfeldt’s show. Those labels refer to the leading women in Friday 13th, another scary movie plus the sci-fi hit in that order. She mentions a 1987 essay written by Carol J Clover, which identifies these surviving characters an original movie concept – women left alone to overcome.

These figures are somewhat masculine, on the silent side enabling their survival due to intelligence,” says Herfeldt regarding this trope. No drug use occurs or have sex. And it doesn’t matter who is watching, everyone can relate to the final girl.”

The artist identifies a parallel between these characters to her artworks – objects which only holding in place amidst stress they face. Is the exhibition focused on social breakdown beyond merely dripping roofs? Similar to various systems, these materials intended to secure and shield us from damage are gradually failing around us.

“Absolutely,” responds the artist.

Prior to discovering her medium using foam materials, Herfeldt used different unconventional substances. Previous exhibitions included forms resembling tongues using a synthetic material typical for in insulated clothing or inside a jacket. Once more, there's the feeling such unusual creations seem lifelike – some are concertinaed like caterpillars mid-crawl, some droop heavily on vertical planes blocking passages collecting debris from touch (Herfeldt encourages people to handle and soil the works). Like the silicone sculptures, the textile works also occupy – and breaking out of – inexpensive-seeming transparent cases. These are unattractive objects, and that's the essence.

“They have a certain aesthetic that somehow you feel highly drawn to, yet simultaneously being quite repulsive,” she says amusedly. “The art aims for invisible, however, it is extremely obvious.”

The artist does not create work to make you feel comfortable or visual calm. Rather, she wants you to feel discomfort, awkward, maybe even amused. And if there's something wet dripping from above as well, remember this was foreshadowed.

Brian Hernandez
Brian Hernandez

A passionate writer and shopping enthusiast with a keen eye for quality products and lifestyle trends.