🔗 Share this article

When considering restroom upgrades, it's advisable to steer clear of hiring the sculptor for the job.

Certainly, Herfeldt is highly skilled in handling foam materials, producing fascinating creations from this unlikely art material. Yet the more look at these pieces, the more it becomes apparent that something seems somewhat unnerving.

Those hefty tubes made of silicone she produces reach over display surfaces on which they sit, hanging over the sides below. The knotty silicone strands bulge till they rupture. A few artworks escape the display cases fully, becoming an attractor of debris and fibers. Let's just say the ratings are unlikely to earn pretty.

At times I get this sense that things are alive within a space,” states the sculptor. Hence I came to use silicone sealant as it offers a distinctly physical texture and feeling.”

Indeed there is an element rather body horror about these sculptures, including that protruding shape that protrudes, like a medical condition, from the support in the centre of the gallery, to the intestinal coils from the material that burst like medical emergencies. On one wall, Herfeldt has framed prints showing the pieces viewed from different angles: appearing as wormy parasites seen in scientific samples, or formations on culture plates.

I am fascinated by is how certain elements within us taking place which possess their own life,” she says. Phenomena that are invisible or command.”

Regarding elements beyond her influence, the poster featured in the exhibition displays a photograph of water damage overhead in her own studio in the German capital. The building had been built in the early 1970s as she explains, was quickly despised among the community as numerous older edifices were torn down for its development. It was already run-down as the artist – who was born in Munich yet raised in northern Germany then relocating to Berlin during her teens – moved in.

The rundown building was frustrating for her work – placing artworks was difficult her pieces without concern they might be damaged – however, it was intriguing. With no building plans accessible, it was unclear the way to fix the malfunctions which occurred. Once an overhead section at the artist's area was saturated enough it gave way completely, the only solution was to replace the panel with a new one – thus repeating the process.

At another site, the artist explains dripping was extreme that several drainage containers got placed within the drop ceiling to channel the water to a different sink.

I understood that the structure acted as a physical form, a totally dysfunctional body,” she says.

These conditions reminded her of Dark Star, John Carpenter’s debut 1974 film about an AI-powered spacecraft that takes on a life of its own. Additionally, observers may note through the heading – a trio of references – that’s not the only film to have influenced this exhibition. Those labels point to main characters in Friday 13th, another scary movie plus the sci-fi hit in that order. She mentions an academic paper written by Carol J Clover, that describes these surviving characters as a unique film trope – protagonists by themselves to save the day.

They often display toughness, on the silent side enabling their survival thanks to resourcefulness,” she elaborates about such characters. No drug use occurs or engage intimately. It is irrelevant the audience's identity, we can all identify with the survivor.”

She draws a parallel between these characters and her sculptures – objects which only staying put under strain affecting them. Does this mean the art more about societal collapse beyond merely dripping roofs? Because like so many institutions, such components meant to insulate and guard us from damage are gradually failing in our environment.

“Absolutely,” responds the artist.

Prior to discovering her medium using foam materials, the artist worked with alternative odd mediums. Previous exhibitions have involved tongue-like shapes made from fabric similar to typical for in insulated clothing or apparel lining. Again there is the impression these strange items could come alive – certain pieces are folded as insects in motion, pieces hang loosely off surfaces or extend through entries gathering grime from contact (The artist invites viewers to touch leaving marks on pieces). As with earlier creations, these nylon creations are also housed in – and breaking out of – cheap looking acrylic glass boxes. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, and really that’s the point.

“These works possess a certain aesthetic that draws viewers compelled by, and at the same time being quite repulsive,” she says amusedly. “It tries to be not there, but it’s actually highly noticeable.”

Herfeldt's goal isn't pieces that offer ease or aesthetically soothed. Instead, she aims for uncomfortable, strange, maybe even amused. And if there's something wet dripping from above additionally, remember the alert was given.