Unveiling the Eerie Silicone-Gun Art: Where Objects Feel Living
If you're planning restroom upgrades, it might be wise to steer clear of hiring this German artist to handle it.
Truly, Herfeldt is a whiz in handling foam materials, producing compelling sculptures from this unlikely art material. However longer you observe these pieces, the clearer one notices a certain aspect feels slightly off.
Those hefty strands made of silicone she produces stretch over the shelves on which they sit, sagging over the sides below. The knotty tubular forms expand till they rupture. Certain pieces leave the display cases fully, evolving into a magnet of debris and fibers. One could imagine the ratings would not be positive.
There are moments I feel this sense that objects are alive in a room,” states the sculptor. Hence I turned to silicone sealant as it offers a distinctly physical texture and feeling.”
In fact there’s something rather body horror regarding Herfeldt’s work, from the suggestive swelling jutting out, hernia-like, from its cylindrical stand in the centre of the gallery, or the gut-like spirals from the material that burst like medical emergencies. Displayed nearby, the artist presents photocopies depicting the sculptures seen from various perspectives: appearing as wormy parasites seen in scientific samples, or growths on a petri-dish.
I am fascinated by is how certain elements in our bodies occurring which possess a life of their own,” Herfeldt explains. “Things that are invisible or manage.”
Talking of elements beyond her influence, the poster promoting the event features a picture of water damage overhead within her workspace located in Berlin. It was erected decades ago and, she says, faced immediate dislike by local people since many old buildings were removed for its development. By the time run-down upon her – a native of that city yet raised near Hamburg before arriving in Berlin as a teenager – took up residence.
This deteriorating space proved challenging to Herfeldt – placing artworks was difficult the sculptures without fearing they might be damaged – yet it also proved intriguing. Without any blueprints accessible, it was unclear the way to fix any of the issues that arose. When the ceiling panel at the artist's area got thoroughly soaked it fell apart fully, the only solution meant swapping the damaged part – perpetuating the issue.
In a different area, Herfeldt says the leaking was so bad that several drainage containers were set up within the drop ceiling in order to redirect leaks to another outlet.
It dawned on me that the building acted as a physical form, a completely flawed entity,” the artist comments.
These conditions brought to mind Dark Star, the director's first movie from the seventies concerning a conscious ship which becomes autonomous. And as you might notice from the show’s title – a trio of references – other cinematic works influenced impacting Herfeldt’s show. The three names refer to the female protagonists from a horror classic, another scary movie and the extraterrestrial saga respectively. Herfeldt cites a 1987 essay from a scholar, that describes the last women standing a distinctive cinematic theme – protagonists by themselves to save the day.
These figures are somewhat masculine, on the silent side and they endure because she’s quite clever,” the artist explains of the archetypal final girl. They avoid substances or engage intimately. Regardless who is watching, all empathize with the final girl.”
Herfeldt sees a connection linking these figures with her creations – things that are just about staying put under strain they face. Is the exhibition more about societal collapse beyond merely dripping roofs? Similar to various systems, these materials meant to insulate and guard us from damage are gradually failing around us.
“Absolutely,” says Herfeldt.
Earlier in her career with sealant applicators, Herfeldt used alternative odd mediums. Recent shows have involved organic-looking pieces made from the kind of nylon fabric found in in insulated clothing or apparel lining. Again there is the sense these peculiar objects could come alive – certain pieces are folded resembling moving larvae, others lollop down from walls or extend through entries gathering grime from contact (She prompts viewers to touch and soil the works). Similar to the foam artworks, the textile works are similarly displayed in – leaving – budget-style transparent cases. These are unattractive objects, and really that’s the point.
“They have a specific look that somehow you feel very attracted to, while also being quite repulsive,” she says amusedly. “It tries to be invisible, yet in reality very present.”
Herfeldt is not making work to make you feel ease or visual calm. Conversely, her intention is to evoke uncomfortable, odd, perhaps entertained. And if there's water droplets overhead too, remember the alert was given.