🔗 Share this article Unveiling the Unsettling Silicone-Gun Sculptures: Where Objects Appear Living Should you be thinking about bathroom renovations, it's advisable not to choose employing this German artist for the job. Indeed, she's highly skilled with a silicone gun, producing fascinating creations out of an unusual medium. Yet as you examine these pieces, the stronger it becomes apparent that an element is a little strange. The dense lengths from the foam she produces extend beyond display surfaces on which they sit, hanging off the edges below. The gnarled silicone strands expand until they split. Certain pieces escape the display cases entirely, evolving into a magnet of debris and fibers. One could imagine the feedback would not be pretty. “I sometimes have an impression that items seem animated within a space,” says Herfeldt. “That’s why I started using this foam material because it has such an organic texture and feeling.” Indeed there’s something almost visceral about the artist's creations, including the phallic bulge which extends, similar to a rupture, from the support in the centre of the gallery, or the gut-like spirals from the material that rupture as if in crisis. Displayed nearby, Herfeldt has framed prints showing the pieces viewed from different angles: resembling wormy parasites seen in scientific samples, or growths on a petri-dish. I am fascinated by that there are things inside human forms occurring that also have their own life,” Herfeldt explains. Phenomena you can’t see or control.” Talking of unmanageable factors, the exhibition advertisement promoting the event includes an image of the leaky ceiling at her creative space in the German capital. It was built in the early 1970s and according to her, was instantly hated by local people because a lot of older edifices were removed to allow its construction. It was already dilapidated when Herfeldt – originally from Munich although she spent her youth north of Hamburg then relocating to Berlin during her teens – began using the space. This deteriorating space caused issues to Herfeldt – she couldn’t hang her pieces without concern risk of ruin – yet it also proved fascinating. With no building plans on hand, nobody had a clue how to repair any of the issues which occurred. After a part of the roof in Herfeldt’s studio was saturated enough it collapsed entirely, the single remedy meant swapping the damaged part – and so the cycle continued. Elsewhere on the property, the artist explains the leaking was so bad so multiple drainage containers were installed above the false roof to divert the water to a different sink. I understood that the building was like a body, an entirely malfunctioning system,” Herfeldt states. This scenario reminded her of a classic film, the initial work 1974 film featuring a smart spaceship which becomes autonomous. As the exhibition's title suggests given the naming – three distinct names – more movies have inspired to have influenced Herfeldt’s show. The three names refer to main characters from a horror classic, the iconic thriller and the extraterrestrial saga respectively. Herfeldt cites an academic paper by the American professor, which identifies these “final girls” an original movie concept – women left alone to triumph. They often display toughness, rather quiet and she can survive due to intelligence,” she elaborates about such characters. They avoid substances or engage intimately. Regardless who is watching, everyone can relate to the survivor.” The artist identifies a connection linking these figures and her sculptures – elements that barely holding in place despite the pressures they face. Is the exhibition focused on societal collapse beyond merely water damage? As with many structures, these materials that should seal and protect against harm are actually slowly eroding around us. “Absolutely,” responds the artist. Prior to discovering her medium with sealant applicators, Herfeldt used different unconventional substances. Recent shows included tongue-like shapes using the kind of nylon fabric found in in insulated clothing or inside a jacket. Again there is the feeling these strange items might animate – certain pieces are folded resembling moving larvae, some droop heavily on vertical planes blocking passages collecting debris from touch (Herfeldt encourages viewers to touch leaving marks on pieces). Like the silicone sculptures, the textile works are also housed in – leaving – inexpensive-seeming display enclosures. They’re ugly looking things, and that's the essence. “They have a specific look that somehow you feel very attracted to, and at the same time being quite repulsive,” Herfeldt remarks grinning. “It tries to be invisible, but it’s actually highly noticeable.” Herfeldt's goal isn't work to make you feel relaxation or visual calm. Instead, she aims for unease, odd, maybe even amused. But if you start to feel water droplets from above as well, remember you haven’t been warned.