Unveiling the Sinister Silicone-Gun Artistry: Where Things Feel Living

Should you be thinking about restroom upgrades, you may want not to choose employing Lisa Herfeldt to handle it.

Certainly, she's highly skilled in handling foam materials, producing intriguing creations out of an unusual substance. However longer you observe her creations, the stronger it becomes apparent that an element seems somewhat unnerving.

The dense tubes made of silicone she produces stretch over the shelves where they rest, hanging off the edges towards the floor. The knotty tubular forms bulge before bursting open. A few artworks escape their acrylic glass box homes completely, evolving into a collector for grime and particles. Let's just say the feedback are unlikely to earn favorable.

“I sometimes have the feeling that items possess life within a space,” says the sculptor. This is why I started using silicone sealant because it has such an organic feel and appearance.”

Certainly there’s something almost visceral about Herfeldt’s work, from the phallic bulge which extends, like a medical condition, from its cylindrical stand at the exhibition's heart, and the winding tubes made of silicone which split open as if in crisis. On one wall, are mounted prints of the works captured in multiple views: resembling wormy parasites seen in scientific samples, or formations on a petri-dish.

“It interests me that there are things inside human forms occurring that also have a life of their own,” she says. “Things that are invisible or manage.”

Talking of unmanageable factors, the poster for the show features an image showing a dripping roof in her own studio in Kreuzberg, Berlin. The building had been built in the early 1970s and according to her, was instantly hated among the community as numerous older edifices were removed in order to make way for it. By the time in a state of disrepair upon her – a native of that city but grew up north of Hamburg before arriving in Berlin as a teenager – took up residence.

This decrepit property was frustrating to Herfeldt – placing artworks was difficult her pieces without concern potential harm – however, it was compelling. Without any blueprints accessible, nobody had a clue methods to address the problems which occurred. After a part of the roof in Herfeldt’s studio became so sodden it fell apart fully, the sole fix meant swapping the panel with a new one – thus repeating the process.

At another site, the artist explains the water intrusion was severe so multiple shower basins got placed above the false roof to channel the water to a different sink.

I understood that this place was like a body, an entirely malfunctioning system,” the artist comments.

This scenario reminded her of a classic film, the director's first 1974 film featuring a smart spaceship that takes on a life of its own. And as you might notice through the heading – three distinct names – that’s not the only film shaping the artist's presentation. These titles refer to main characters in Friday 13th, Halloween and the extraterrestrial saga respectively. She mentions an academic paper from a scholar, outlining these surviving characters a distinctive cinematic theme – protagonists by themselves to overcome.

They often display toughness, on the silent side and she can survive due to intelligence,” the artist explains about such characters. No drug use occurs or engage intimately. And it doesn’t matter the audience's identity, everyone can relate to this character.”

She draws a parallel from these protagonists to her artworks – things that are just about staying put despite the pressures they face. Is the exhibition focused on cultural decay than just dripping roofs? As with many structures, these materials that should seal and protect us from damage in fact are decaying around us.

“Oh, totally,” says Herfeldt.

Prior to discovering her medium with sealant applicators, the artist worked with different unconventional substances. Past displays included organic-looking pieces crafted from a synthetic material typical for within outdoor gear or in coats. Again there is the impression such unusual creations might animate – some are concertinaed as insects in motion, some droop heavily from walls or spill across doorways attracting dirt from footprints (Herfeldt encourages viewers to touch leaving marks on pieces). Like the silicone sculptures, these nylon creations are also housed in – and escaping from – cheap looking display enclosures. They’re ugly looking things, which is intentional.

“These works possess a specific look which makes one compelled by, while also being quite repulsive,” she says with a smile. “It tries to be not there, however, it is extremely obvious.”

Herfeldt's goal isn't art to provide relaxation or aesthetically soothed. Instead, she aims for unease, awkward, maybe even amused. And if there's water droplets from above additionally, consider yourself the alert was given.