🔗 Share this article

If you're planning washroom remodeling, it might be wise to avoid engaging the sculptor to handle it.

Certainly, she's an expert with a silicone gun, crafting fascinating creations with a surprising medium. Yet the more look at her creations, the stronger one notices that something feels slightly off.

The thick strands made of silicone she crafts stretch past the shelves where they rest, drooping downwards towards the floor. Those twisted silicone strands bulge until they split. Some creations break free from the display cases completely, evolving into an attractor for grime and particles. Let's just say the ratings might not get favorable.

At times I get this sense that items are alive in a room,” states the sculptor. This is why I came to use this substance because it has this very bodily sensation and look.”

Certainly one can detect almost visceral about the artist's creations, from that protruding shape which extends, like a medical condition, from the support within the showspace, and the winding tubes made of silicone that rupture as if in crisis. Along a surface, are mounted prints showing the pieces seen from various perspectives: they look like squirming organisms seen in scientific samples, or growths in a lab setting.

“It interests me is the idea within us happening which possess their own life,” the artist notes. Phenomena that are invisible or manage.”

On the subject of elements beyond her influence, the promotional image promoting the event includes an image of water damage overhead at her creative space located in Berlin. It was erected decades ago and according to her, was instantly hated among the community because a lot of old buildings got demolished for its development. The place was dilapidated when Herfeldt – originally from Munich although she spent her youth near Hamburg prior to moving to the capital during her teens – moved in.

This deteriorating space was frustrating to Herfeldt – it was risky to display the sculptures anxiously risk of ruin – however, it was intriguing. With no building plans available, nobody had a clue the way to fix any of the issues which occurred. After a part of the roof in Herfeldt’s studio got thoroughly soaked it gave way completely, the only solution involved installing the damaged part – and so the cycle continued.

In a different area, Herfeldt says dripping was extreme that several collection units were installed within the drop ceiling in order to redirect the water to a different sink.

It dawned on me that the structure was like a body, a totally dysfunctional body,” Herfeldt states.

The situation brought to mind the sci-fi movie, the initial work 1974 film concerning a conscious ship which becomes autonomous. Additionally, observers may note through the heading – three distinct names – other cinematic works influenced to have influenced this exhibition. Those labels point to the female protagonists in Friday 13th, the iconic thriller and Alien respectively. Herfeldt cites an academic paper from a scholar, which identifies these “final girls” as a unique film trope – women left alone to overcome.

“She’s a bit tomboyish, reserved in nature enabling their survival thanks to resourcefulness,” the artist explains of the archetypal final girl. No drug use occurs or engage intimately. It is irrelevant who is watching, everyone can relate to the final girl.”

She draws a connection between these characters and her sculptures – elements that barely staying put amidst stress affecting them. Does this mean the art really concerning societal collapse than just water damage? Because like so many institutions, such components intended to secure and shield against harm are gradually failing in our environment.

“Completely,” she confirms.

Earlier in her career using foam materials, she experimented with different unconventional substances. Recent shows featured organic-looking pieces using the kind of nylon fabric you might see in insulated clothing or inside a jacket. Again there is the feeling such unusual creations might animate – a few are compressed like caterpillars mid-crawl, others lollop down from walls or spill across doorways collecting debris from touch (Herfeldt encourages people to handle leaving marks on pieces). Like the silicone sculptures, the textile works also occupy – and breaking out of – inexpensive-seeming transparent cases. These are unattractive objects, which is intentional.

“They have a certain aesthetic that somehow you feel highly drawn to, yet simultaneously they’re very disgusting,” the artist comments with a smile. “It tries to be not there, yet in reality very present.”

Herfeldt's goal isn't art to provide relaxation or aesthetically soothed. Instead, she aims for uncomfortable, awkward, perhaps entertained. And if there's something wet dripping on your head as well, don’t say this was foreshadowed.