Delving into the Sinister Sealant-Based Artistry: In Which Things Feel Alive
If you're planning bathroom renovations, it's advisable to steer clear of hiring the sculptor for the job.
Indeed, Herfeldt is highly skilled with a silicone gun, crafting intriguing sculptures out of an unusual substance. Yet longer you look at the artworks, the stronger one notices that an element feels slightly off.
Those hefty lengths of sealant she produces reach over their supports on which they sit, hanging downwards to the ground. The gnarled foam pipes swell until they split. A few artworks break free from their transparent enclosures completely, turning into a collector for dust and hair. One could imagine the reviews would not be pretty.
“I sometimes have an impression that objects seem animated within a space,” states the sculptor. Hence I started using silicone sealant due to its a distinctly physical texture and feeling.”
Certainly there’s something almost visceral in the artist's creations, from the phallic bulge which extends, hernia-like, off its base within the showspace, to the intestinal coils of foam which split open like medical emergencies. Displayed nearby, Herfeldt has framed photocopies showing the pieces viewed from different angles: they look like squirming organisms seen in scientific samples, or formations on a petri-dish.
I am fascinated by is how certain elements inside human forms occurring that also have independent existence,” Herfeldt explains. “Things you can’t see or command.”
Regarding things she can’t control, the exhibition advertisement for the show includes an image of water damage overhead at her creative space in Kreuzberg, Berlin. Constructed built in the early 1970s as she explains, was quickly despised by local people since many historic structures got demolished in order to make way for it. It was already dilapidated upon her – a native of that city but grew up in northern Germany before arriving in Berlin as a teenager – moved in.
This deteriorating space proved challenging to Herfeldt – placing artworks was difficult the sculptures without fearing they might be damaged – yet it also proved compelling. Lacking architectural drawings available, it was unclear how to repair the malfunctions that arose. Once an overhead section at the artist's area got thoroughly soaked it fell apart fully, the sole fix involved installing the panel with a new one – thus repeating the process.
In a different area, the artist explains the leaking was so bad that a series of collection units got placed above the false roof in order to redirect the water to a different sink.
I understood that this place resembled an organism, a totally dysfunctional body,” the artist comments.
This scenario evoked memories of a classic film, the initial work cinematic piece featuring a smart spaceship that develops independence. As the exhibition's title suggests given the naming – a trio of references – more movies have inspired impacting the artist's presentation. Those labels refer to the female protagonists from a horror classic, another scary movie plus the sci-fi hit as listed. She mentions an academic paper by the American professor, which identifies these surviving characters a distinctive cinematic theme – protagonists by themselves to triumph.
These figures are somewhat masculine, reserved in nature and she can survive thanks to resourcefulness,” the artist explains about such characters. “They don’t take drugs nor sexual activity. It is irrelevant the viewer’s gender, all empathize with the survivor.”
The artist identifies a connection linking these figures to her artworks – objects which only holding in place under strain they face. So is her work really concerning social breakdown rather than simply water damage? Because like so many institutions, substances like silicone that should seal and protect us from damage are actually slowly eroding in our environment.
“Completely,” she confirms.
Earlier in her career with sealant applicators, Herfeldt used alternative odd mediums. Past displays included organic-looking pieces using a synthetic material typical for within outdoor gear or inside a jacket. Once more, there's the feeling these strange items might animate – certain pieces are folded like caterpillars mid-crawl, others lollop down from walls blocking passages attracting dirt from footprints (Herfeldt encourages viewers to touch and soil the works). As with earlier creations, the textile works also occupy – and breaking out of – budget-style transparent cases. These are unattractive objects, which is intentional.
“These works possess a specific look which makes one highly drawn to, and at the same time appearing gross,” Herfeldt remarks with a smile. “It tries to be not there, however, it is very present.”
Herfeldt's goal isn't pieces that offer ease or beauty. Instead, her intention is to evoke unease, odd, perhaps entertained. And if there's a moist sensation from above additionally, consider yourself you haven’t been warned.