🔗 Share this article

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

Indeed, Herfeldt is an expert using sealant applicators, producing compelling creations with a surprising substance. Yet the more examine the artworks, the stronger you realise that an element feels slightly unnerving.

The thick tubes made of silicone Herfeldt forms reach past the shelves supporting them, hanging over the sides below. The knotty silicone strands expand till they rupture. Certain pieces escape the display cases fully, evolving into an attractor of debris and fibers. One could imagine the feedback might not get positive.

At times I get the feeling that things possess life in a room,” states the German artist. Hence I came to use this foam material because it has a distinctly physical feel and appearance.”

Indeed there’s something rather body horror about Herfeldt’s work, including that protruding shape jutting out, hernia-like, from the support at the exhibition's heart, and the winding tubes from the material which split open like medical emergencies. Displayed nearby, the artist presents images depicting the sculptures viewed from different angles: they look like wormy parasites observed under magnification, or formations on culture plates.

What captivates me is the idea inside human forms taking place that also have independent existence,” the artist notes. Elements that are invisible or manage.”

On the subject of unmanageable factors, the poster featured in the exhibition includes a picture of water damage overhead in her own studio in the German capital. Constructed erected decades ago and, she says, faced immediate dislike among the community since many older edifices were removed for its development. By the time run-down when Herfeldt – a native of that city yet raised in northern Germany prior to moving to the capital as a teenager – began using the space.

This deteriorating space caused issues to Herfeldt – she couldn’t hang her art works anxiously they might be damaged – however, it was intriguing. With no building plans available, nobody had a clue how to repair the malfunctions that arose. After a part of the roof in Herfeldt’s studio became so sodden it gave way completely, the only solution was to replace it with another – thus repeating the process.

In a different area, Herfeldt says the leaking was so bad that a series of drainage containers were set up within the drop ceiling to divert the moisture elsewhere.

“I realised that the building resembled an organism, a totally dysfunctional body,” she says.

These conditions brought to mind Dark Star, the initial work movie from the seventies about an AI-powered spacecraft which becomes autonomous. Additionally, observers may note given the naming – three distinct names – other cinematic works influenced shaping this exhibition. These titles point to main characters in the slasher film, another scary movie and Alien as listed. Herfeldt cites a critical analysis from a scholar, which identifies the last women standing an original movie concept – female characters isolated to save the day.

“She’s a bit tomboyish, rather quiet and she can survive because she’s quite clever,” she elaborates regarding this trope. They avoid substances nor sexual activity. It is irrelevant who is watching, all empathize with the survivor.”

The artist identifies a parallel linking these figures with her creations – things that are just about staying put amidst stress they’re under. Is the exhibition focused on cultural decay beyond merely leaky ceilings? Because like so many institutions, these materials meant to insulate and guard against harm are actually slowly eroding around us.

“Absolutely,” says Herfeldt.

Earlier in her career using foam materials, she experimented with alternative odd mediums. Previous exhibitions have involved organic-looking pieces using a synthetic material found in on a sleeping bag or inside a jacket. Once more, there's the impression these peculiar objects might animate – a few are compressed resembling moving larvae, some droop heavily on vertical planes blocking passages attracting dirt from footprints (Herfeldt encourages viewers to touch leaving marks on pieces). As with earlier creations, these nylon creations also occupy – leaving – cheap looking transparent cases. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, which is intentional.

“These works possess a specific look that draws viewers very attracted to, yet simultaneously they’re very disgusting,” she says amusedly. “It tries to be not there, yet in reality very present.”

Herfeldt's goal isn't pieces that offer comfortable or visual calm. Conversely, her intention is to evoke unease, odd, perhaps entertained. And if there's water droplets from above additionally, consider yourself the alert was given.