🔗 Share this article

If you're planning bathroom renovations, it's advisable not to choose engaging Lisa Herfeldt for such tasks.

Truly, she's highly skilled with a silicone gun, creating fascinating creations with a surprising art material. Yet as you examine these pieces, the stronger it becomes apparent that something feels slightly strange.

Those hefty tubes from the foam she crafts extend beyond the shelves on which they sit, hanging off the edges to the ground. Those twisted silicone strands bulge until they split. A few artworks leave their transparent enclosures fully, evolving into an attractor of debris and fibers. It's safe to say the reviews are unlikely to earn positive.

There are moments I feel this sense that things are alive within a space,” remarks the sculptor. Hence I started using this substance due to its such an organic texture and feeling.”

Certainly there is an element rather body horror regarding the artist's creations, including the suggestive swelling jutting out, like a medical condition, off its base at the exhibition's heart, to the intestinal coils from the material that burst as if in crisis. On one wall, the artist presents photocopies showing the pieces captured in multiple views: resembling squirming organisms picked up on a microscope, or growths on culture plates.

What captivates me is how certain elements inside human forms occurring that also have a life of their own,” she says. “Things which remain unseen or control.”

On the subject of things she can’t control, the poster featured in the exhibition displays a picture showing a dripping roof within her workspace located in Berlin. The building had been made in the seventies and according to her, faced immediate dislike from residents as numerous older edifices got demolished in order to make way for it. It was already in a state of disrepair as the artist – originally from Munich yet raised near Hamburg then relocating to Berlin during her teens – moved in.

This decrepit property was frustrating for her work – it was risky to display her art works without fearing potential harm – however, it was compelling. Without any blueprints on hand, it was unclear methods to address the malfunctions that arose. Once an overhead section at the artist's area got thoroughly soaked it collapsed entirely, the single remedy involved installing the damaged part – thus repeating the process.

In a different area, Herfeldt says the water intrusion was severe that several drainage containers were installed above the false roof to channel the moisture elsewhere.

I understood that this place acted as a physical form, a totally dysfunctional body,” the artist comments.

The situation reminded her of Dark Star, the director's first cinematic piece featuring a smart spaceship which becomes autonomous. And as you might notice given the naming – Alice, Laurie & Ripley – other cinematic works influenced shaping this exhibition. The three names indicate main characters in the slasher film, the iconic thriller and the extraterrestrial saga respectively. Herfeldt cites a critical analysis from a scholar, that describes these “final girls” an original movie concept – women left alone to triumph.

They often display toughness, reserved in nature and they endure thanks to resourcefulness,” says Herfeldt of the archetypal final girl. No drug use occurs or engage intimately. And it doesn’t matter who is watching, all empathize with this character.”

The artist identifies a parallel from these protagonists with her creations – elements that barely staying put despite the pressures affecting them. Does this mean the art focused on cultural decay beyond merely water damage? Because like so many institutions, substances like silicone meant to insulate and guard from deterioration are gradually failing in our environment.

“Completely,” says Herfeldt.

Prior to discovering her medium using foam materials, she experimented with alternative odd mediums. Past displays have involved organic-looking pieces crafted from fabric similar to found in on a sleeping bag or in coats. Again there is the impression these peculiar objects could come alive – a few are compressed resembling moving larvae, others lollop down off surfaces or extend through entries gathering grime from contact (She prompts audiences to interact leaving marks on pieces). Similar to the foam artworks, these nylon creations are also housed in – and breaking out of – budget-style transparent cases. These are unattractive objects, and really that’s the point.

“The sculptures exhibit a particular style which makes one highly drawn to, while also being quite repulsive,” the artist comments amusedly. “The art aims for absent, but it’s actually highly noticeable.”

The artist does not create pieces that offer comfortable or beauty. Conversely, she wants you to feel uncomfortable, odd, or even humor. But if you start to feel something wet dripping on your head too, don’t say you haven’t been warned.