Unveiling Lisa Herfeldt's Unsettling Sealant-Based Art: In Which Things Feel Animated

Should you be thinking about restroom upgrades, it might be wise to steer clear of employing the sculptor for the job.

Indeed, she's highly skilled in handling foam materials, producing compelling artworks with a surprising substance. Yet as you look at the artworks, the more one notices that an element seems somewhat unnerving.

Those hefty tubes from the foam she crafts stretch beyond display surfaces where they rest, sagging downwards towards the floor. The knotty foam pipes bulge until they split. A few artworks leave their transparent enclosures fully, evolving into a collector for dust and hair. It's safe to say the reviews are unlikely to earn pretty.

There are moments I feel the feeling that objects possess life within a space,” remarks the sculptor. “That’s why I turned to this substance due to its a distinctly physical sensation and look.”

Certainly there is an element somewhat grotesque regarding these sculptures, including the suggestive swelling jutting out, similar to a rupture, from its cylindrical stand at the exhibition's heart, to the intestinal coils from the material that burst like medical emergencies. On one wall, the artist presents prints depicting the sculptures viewed from different angles: they look like squirming organisms seen in scientific samples, or formations on culture plates.

I am fascinated by that there are things within us occurring that also have their own life,” she says. Elements which remain unseen or manage.”

Talking of things she can’t control, the promotional image for the show features a photograph of the leaky ceiling within her workspace in the German capital. The building had been built in the early 1970s and according to her, was instantly hated by local people because a lot of historic structures were removed for its development. By the time run-down upon her – originally from Munich although she spent her youth north of Hamburg prior to moving to the capital as a teenager – began using the space.

This deteriorating space proved challenging for her work – she couldn’t hang her art works anxiously they might be damaged – yet it also proved fascinating. Lacking architectural drawings available, nobody had a clue the way to fix the problems that arose. After a part of the roof at the artist's area became so sodden it gave way completely, the single remedy meant swapping the damaged part – thus repeating the process.

Elsewhere on the property, she describes the leaking was so bad that a series of drainage containers got placed in the suspended ceiling to divert the moisture elsewhere.

“I realised that the structure was like a body, a completely flawed entity,” the artist comments.

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. Additionally, observers may note through the heading – three distinct names – other cinematic works influenced shaping the artist's presentation. The three names point to main characters in Friday 13th, Halloween and the extraterrestrial saga in that order. She mentions a critical analysis from a scholar, that describes the last women standing a distinctive cinematic theme – female characters isolated to triumph.

These figures are somewhat masculine, on the silent side and she can survive because she’s quite clever,” says Herfeldt about such characters. No drug use occurs nor sexual activity. And it doesn’t matter the audience's identity, all empathize with the survivor.”

The artist identifies a similarity linking these figures and her sculptures – objects which only holding in place despite the pressures they face. So is her work really concerning social breakdown than just water damage? Similar to various systems, such components meant to insulate and guard from deterioration are gradually failing around us.

“Completely,” responds the artist.

Before finding inspiration using foam materials, Herfeldt used other unusual materials. Previous exhibitions included tongue-like shapes using the kind of nylon fabric typical for within outdoor gear or in coats. Once more, there's the impression such unusual creations could come alive – some are concertinaed resembling moving larvae, pieces hang loosely from walls blocking passages attracting dirt from footprints (She prompts people to handle leaving marks on pieces). As with earlier creations, those fabric pieces are also housed in – and breaking out of – budget-style acrylic glass boxes. They’re ugly looking things, and that's the essence.

“These works possess a particular style that draws viewers very attracted to, yet simultaneously appearing gross,” she says with a smile. “It attempts to seem invisible, however, it is extremely obvious.”

Herfeldt's goal isn't pieces that offer comfortable or visual calm. Rather, she aims for uncomfortable, awkward, or even humor. And if there's a moist sensation on your head additionally, remember you haven’t been warned.