Delving into the Sinister Silicone-Gun Artistry: Where Objects Feel Living

If you're planning bathroom renovations, it's advisable to steer clear of engaging the sculptor for the job.

Certainly, Herfeldt is a whiz with a silicone gun, creating intriguing creations from this unlikely medium. But longer you look at the artworks, the clearer you realise that an element is a little strange.

The thick lengths from the foam she produces extend beyond the shelves where they rest, hanging off the edges below. The knotty foam pipes swell till they rupture. Certain pieces break free from their acrylic glass box homes fully, evolving into an attractor of debris and fibers. Let's just say the ratings might not get favorable.

At times I get this sense that things seem animated in a room,” remarks the sculptor. Hence I came to use silicone sealant as it offers this very bodily texture and feeling.”

Certainly there’s something somewhat grotesque in the artist's creations, starting with the phallic bulge jutting out, hernia-like, from its cylindrical stand in the centre of the gallery, or the gut-like spirals made of silicone which split open as if in crisis. Displayed nearby, the artist presents prints showing the pieces seen from various perspectives: resembling wormy parasites seen in scientific samples, or colonies on a petri-dish.

“It interests me is the idea in our bodies happening that seem to hold their own life,” she says. “Things you can’t see or control.”

Regarding things she can’t control, the exhibition advertisement for the show includes a picture of water damage overhead at her creative space in the German capital. The building had been built in the early 1970s and, she says, was quickly despised among the community since many historic structures were torn down for its development. By the time run-down when Herfeldt – a native of that city yet raised north of Hamburg before arriving in Berlin in her youth – took up residence.

The rundown building caused issues to Herfeldt – she couldn’t hang her art works without fearing risk of ruin – however, it was fascinating. With no building plans on hand, nobody had a clue how to repair the malfunctions that developed. Once an overhead section at the artist's area was saturated enough it collapsed entirely, the sole fix involved installing the panel with a new one – perpetuating the issue.

In a different area, the artist explains the leaking was so bad that a series of drainage containers were installed within the drop ceiling in order to redirect the moisture elsewhere.

“I realised that the structure resembled an organism, a totally dysfunctional body,” she says.

These conditions reminded her of Dark Star, the initial work 1974 film featuring a smart spaceship that develops independence. And as you might notice from the show’s title – a trio of references – that’s not the only film to have influenced the artist's presentation. Those labels refer to the female protagonists in Friday 13th, Halloween and the extraterrestrial saga respectively. The artist references a critical analysis by the American professor, which identifies these surviving characters as a unique film trope – protagonists by themselves to save the day.

They often display toughness, on the silent side and they endure thanks to resourcefulness,” says Herfeldt regarding this trope. “They don’t take drugs or engage intimately. And it doesn’t matter the viewer’s gender, all empathize with the final girl.”

She draws a parallel between these characters and her sculptures – elements that barely holding in place despite the pressures affecting them. Is the exhibition really concerning social breakdown than just leaky ceilings? As with many structures, these materials meant to insulate and guard from deterioration in fact are decaying in our environment.

“Completely,” she confirms.

Before finding inspiration in the silicone gun, Herfeldt used alternative odd mediums. Previous exhibitions included forms resembling tongues made from the kind of nylon fabric typical for in insulated clothing or inside a jacket. Again there is the impression these strange items might animate – some are concertinaed like caterpillars mid-crawl, others lollop down off surfaces or extend through entries gathering grime from contact (The artist invites audiences to interact and soil the works). Like the silicone sculptures, those fabric pieces are also housed in – and escaping from – cheap looking acrylic glass boxes. They’re ugly looking things, and that's the essence.

“They have a certain aesthetic which makes one highly drawn to, yet simultaneously they’re very disgusting,” Herfeldt remarks amusedly. “The art aims for invisible, yet in reality very present.”

Herfeldt is not making work to make you feel ease or beauty. Rather, she aims for uncomfortable, strange, maybe even amused. But if you start to feel a moist sensation from above as well, consider yourself the alert was given.

Lynn Alvarez
Lynn Alvarez

A tech enthusiast and digital strategist with over a decade of experience in helping businesses adapt to the digital age.