When considering restroom upgrades, it might be wise to avoid hiring Lisa Herfeldt for such tasks.
Indeed, she's an expert in handling foam materials, crafting intriguing artworks from this unlikely medium. However longer you look at her creations, the clearer it becomes apparent that something is a little off.
The thick strands from the foam she produces stretch beyond their supports supporting them, drooping off the edges below. Those twisted tubular forms bulge before bursting open. Some creations leave their transparent enclosures completely, turning into a magnet for dust and hair. One could imagine the feedback are unlikely to earn favorable.
There are moments I feel this sense that objects seem animated in a room,” states the German artist. This is why I started using silicone sealant as it offers such an organic sensation and look.”
In fact there is an element rather body horror in Herfeldt’s work, from the phallic bulge jutting out, hernia-like, off its base in the centre of the gallery, or the gut-like spirals of foam which split open as if in crisis. On one wall, Herfeldt has framed images showing the pieces seen from various perspectives: they look like wormy parasites picked up on a microscope, or colonies in a lab setting.
What captivates me is the idea inside human forms taking place that seem to hold independent existence,” she says. “Things that are invisible or control.”
Talking of elements beyond her influence, the promotional image featured in the exhibition displays a photograph of the leaky ceiling in her own studio located in Berlin. The building had been made in the seventies as she explains, was quickly despised from residents because a lot of older edifices were torn down in order to make way for it. By the time dilapidated when Herfeldt – a native of that city although she spent her youth in northern Germany before arriving in Berlin during her teens – moved in.
This deteriorating space proved challenging for the artist – she couldn’t hang the sculptures without concern risk of ruin – but it was also intriguing. Lacking architectural drawings accessible, nobody had a clue the way to fix the malfunctions that developed. When the ceiling panel within her workspace became so sodden it gave way completely, the sole fix involved installing the damaged part – and so the cycle continued.
Elsewhere on the property, the artist explains the water intrusion was severe that a series of collection units were set up within the drop ceiling to channel leaks to another outlet.
I understood that the structure resembled an organism, a completely flawed entity,” she says.
This scenario evoked memories of the sci-fi movie, the director's first 1974 film concerning a conscious ship that takes on a life of its own. As the exhibition's title suggests from the show’s title – Alice, Laurie & Ripley – more movies have inspired to have influenced this exhibition. These titles indicate main characters from a horror classic, the iconic thriller plus the sci-fi hit in that order. She mentions a 1987 essay from a scholar, which identifies the last women standing an original movie concept – female characters isolated to save the day.
These figures are somewhat masculine, reserved in nature and they endure thanks to resourcefulness,” she elaborates about such characters. They avoid substances or have sex. And it doesn’t matter who is watching, all empathize with the final girl.”
The artist identifies a parallel between these characters with her creations – elements that barely maintaining position under strain they face. So is her work really concerning societal collapse rather than simply water damage? Because like so many institutions, such components meant to insulate and guard from deterioration are actually slowly eroding in our environment.
“Completely,” responds the artist.
Earlier in her career with sealant applicators, the artist worked with other unusual materials. Past displays featured forms resembling tongues using the kind of nylon fabric found in within outdoor gear or inside a jacket. Again there is the impression these peculiar objects seem lifelike – a few are compressed resembling moving larvae, pieces hang loosely on vertical planes blocking passages collecting debris from touch (She prompts viewers to touch leaving marks on pieces). Like the silicone sculptures, the textile works also occupy – and escaping from – cheap looking acrylic glass boxes. They’re ugly looking things, and that's the essence.
“These works possess a certain aesthetic which makes one very attracted to, while also they’re very disgusting,” the artist comments grinning. “It tries to be invisible, but it’s actually highly noticeable.”
Herfeldt's goal isn't pieces that offer relaxation or visual calm. Instead, her intention is to evoke uncomfortable, strange, or even humor. But if you start to feel water droplets overhead as well, consider yourself this was foreshadowed.