Unveiling Lisa Herfeldt's Sinister Sealant-Based Art: Where Things Appear Alive

When considering bathroom renovations, you may want to avoid employing Lisa Herfeldt for the job.

Truly, she's highly skilled with a silicone gun, creating compelling artworks from this unlikely medium. Yet longer you look at these pieces, the more it becomes apparent that something feels slightly unnerving.

Those hefty strands of sealant Herfeldt forms reach over display surfaces where they rest, drooping over the sides below. The gnarled silicone strands swell till they rupture. A few artworks break free from their transparent enclosures completely, evolving into an attractor for dust and hair. One could imagine the feedback might not get pretty.

There are moments I feel this sense that things seem animated inside an area,” says the sculptor. “That’s why I came to use this substance due to its this very bodily feel and appearance.”

Indeed one can detect somewhat grotesque in Herfeldt’s work, including the phallic bulge which extends, like a medical condition, off its base within the showspace, and the winding tubes from the material that burst as if in crisis. On one wall, the artist presents prints showing the pieces seen from various perspectives: appearing as microscopic invaders seen in scientific samples, or growths on culture plates.

I am fascinated by is the idea inside human forms occurring which possess independent existence,” she says. Phenomena which remain unseen or command.”

Regarding elements beyond her influence, the exhibition advertisement promoting the event features a photograph of the leaky ceiling at her creative space located in Berlin. The building had been made in the seventies and, she says, was instantly hated by local people since many old buildings were torn down in order to make way for it. By the time in a state of disrepair upon her – originally from Munich although she spent her youth in northern Germany then relocating to Berlin in her youth – moved in.

This decrepit property was frustrating for the artist – placing artworks was difficult her pieces anxiously risk of ruin – but it was also intriguing. Without any blueprints accessible, it was unclear how to repair the problems that arose. Once an overhead section within her workspace got thoroughly soaked it collapsed entirely, the sole fix was to replace it with another – and so the cycle continued.

Elsewhere on the property, she describes the water intrusion was severe so multiple shower basins got placed above the false roof in order to redirect leaks to another outlet.

“I realised that the structure was like a body, a totally dysfunctional body,” Herfeldt states.

The situation reminded her of the sci-fi movie, the director's first cinematic piece featuring a smart spaceship which becomes autonomous. Additionally, observers may note through the heading – a trio of references – that’s not the only film impacting Herfeldt’s show. These titles point to the female protagonists in Friday 13th, Halloween and the extraterrestrial saga in that order. She mentions a 1987 essay from a scholar, that describes the last women standing an original movie concept – women left alone to triumph.

“She’s a bit tomboyish, rather quiet and they endure thanks to resourcefulness,” says Herfeldt regarding this trope. They avoid substances or have sex. Regardless the viewer’s gender, everyone can relate to the survivor.”

The artist identifies a similarity from these protagonists to her artworks – elements that barely staying put amidst stress they face. So is her work more about social breakdown than just water damage? Because like so many institutions, such components meant to insulate and guard from deterioration are actually slowly eroding in our environment.

“Oh, totally,” says Herfeldt.

Prior to discovering her medium with sealant applicators, the artist worked with different unconventional substances. Previous exhibitions have involved forms resembling tongues using a synthetic material typical for in insulated clothing or in coats. Once more, there's the feeling these strange items seem lifelike – some are concertinaed like caterpillars mid-crawl, pieces hang loosely from walls or extend through entries attracting dirt from footprints (Herfeldt encourages viewers to touch leaving marks on pieces). Like the silicone sculptures, those fabric pieces also occupy – leaving – budget-style transparent cases. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, which is intentional.

“These works possess a specific look which makes one very attracted to, and at the same time being quite repulsive,” she says amusedly. “It attempts to seem invisible, but it’s actually highly noticeable.”

Herfeldt is not making work to make you feel ease or beauty. Conversely, she aims for uncomfortable, awkward, maybe even amused. And if there's a moist sensation from above too, consider yourself you haven’t been warned.

Thomas Roberts
Thomas Roberts

Award-winning journalist with a passion for human rights and investigative reporting across diverse cultures.