Unveiling the Eerie Sealant-Based Artistry: Where Objects Appear Animated

When considering restroom upgrades, it's advisable to steer clear of hiring Lisa Herfeldt for such tasks.

Truly, Herfeldt is a whiz using sealant applicators, crafting compelling artworks with a surprising medium. But as you look at these pieces, the stronger it becomes apparent that something seems somewhat off.

The thick tubes from the foam she produces stretch beyond their supports supporting them, hanging off the edges to the ground. The knotty tubular forms swell till they rupture. Some creations escape their acrylic glass box homes fully, becoming an attractor for grime and particles. One could imagine the ratings are unlikely to earn pretty.

There are moments I feel the feeling that items are alive within a space,” remarks Herfeldt. “That’s why I turned to this substance as it offers this very bodily texture and feeling.”

Certainly there’s something rather body horror in the artist's creations, including the phallic bulge jutting out, like a medical condition, from its cylindrical stand in the centre of the gallery, or the gut-like spirals from the material that burst resembling bodily failures. Displayed nearby, are mounted images depicting the sculptures captured in multiple views: they look like squirming organisms observed under magnification, or growths on culture plates.

“It interests me is how certain elements inside human forms occurring that seem to hold a life of their own,” she says. “Things which remain unseen or control.”

On the subject of elements beyond her influence, the poster promoting the event displays a picture of water damage overhead at her creative space in Kreuzberg, Berlin. It was made in the seventies as she explains, was quickly despised from residents as numerous older edifices were removed for its development. By the time run-down upon her – originally from Munich yet raised in northern Germany prior to moving to the capital during her teens – moved in.

This deteriorating space was frustrating for her work – placing artworks was difficult her pieces anxiously they might be damaged – however, it was intriguing. With no building plans available, no one knew the way to fix the problems that developed. When the ceiling panel at the artist's area became so sodden it fell apart fully, the only solution involved installing the damaged part – perpetuating the issue.

In a different area, the artist explains the water intrusion was severe that several shower basins were set up above the false roof to channel leaks to another outlet.

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

This scenario brought to mind a classic film, the initial work movie from the seventies concerning a conscious ship which becomes autonomous. As the exhibition's title suggests through the heading – three distinct names – other cinematic works influenced to have influenced Herfeldt’s show. The three names point to main characters in Friday 13th, another scary movie and the extraterrestrial saga in that order. She mentions a 1987 essay written by Carol J Clover, that describes the last women standing a distinctive cinematic theme – women left alone to save the day.

They often display toughness, on the silent side and they endure due to intelligence,” the artist explains regarding this trope. No drug use occurs or have sex. It is irrelevant the audience's identity, we can all identify with the final girl.”

The artist identifies a connection from these protagonists to her artworks – things that are just about staying put despite the pressures they’re under. Is the exhibition really concerning cultural decay beyond merely leaky ceilings? Similar to various systems, substances like silicone that should seal and protect against harm are gradually failing in our environment.

“Absolutely,” says Herfeldt.

Earlier in her career in the silicone gun, the artist worked with other unusual materials. Past displays included forms resembling tongues made from a synthetic material found in on a sleeping bag or apparel lining. Again there is the feeling these strange items might animate – certain pieces are folded resembling moving larvae, others lollop down on vertical planes blocking passages gathering grime from contact (The artist invites viewers to touch and dirty her art). As with earlier creations, the textile works are similarly displayed in – and escaping from – budget-style transparent cases. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, and that's the essence.

“These works possess a specific look that somehow you feel highly drawn to, and at the same time they’re very disgusting,” Herfeldt remarks grinning. “It attempts to seem absent, but it’s actually extremely obvious.”

Herfeldt's goal isn't art to provide ease or aesthetically soothed. Rather, she aims for uncomfortable, awkward, maybe even amused. But if you start to feel something wet dripping from above additionally, consider yourself the alert was given.