🔗 Share this article

When considering restroom upgrades, you may want to steer clear of employing this German artist to handle it.

Truly, she's an expert in handling foam materials, crafting compelling creations from this unlikely art material. Yet longer you observe the artworks, the more one notices a certain aspect feels slightly off.

Those hefty tubes from the foam she crafts extend over the shelves on which they sit, sagging over the sides towards the floor. The gnarled silicone strands bulge before bursting open. Certain pieces escape their transparent enclosures completely, evolving into a collector of debris and fibers. Let's just say the ratings are unlikely to earn pretty.

There are moments I feel an impression that items possess life inside an area,” says the German artist. This is why I turned to this foam material because it has such an organic feel and appearance.”

In fact one can detect somewhat grotesque about the artist's creations, from that protruding shape jutting out, hernia-like, from its cylindrical stand at the exhibition's heart, to the intestinal coils of foam which split open like medical emergencies. Displayed nearby, the artist presents images depicting the sculptures viewed from different angles: appearing as wormy parasites picked up on a microscope, or colonies on culture plates.

“It interests me that there are things in our bodies occurring which possess independent existence,” she says. Phenomena that are invisible or control.”

Talking of unmanageable factors, the promotional image featured in the exhibition features a photograph showing a dripping roof in her own studio located in Berlin. Constructed erected decades ago and, she says, was instantly hated from residents as numerous historic structures were torn down in order to make way for it. It was already dilapidated when Herfeldt – who was born in Munich but grew up north of Hamburg prior to moving to the capital during her teens – took up residence.

The rundown building caused issues for her work – she couldn’t hang the sculptures anxiously potential harm – however, it was compelling. Lacking architectural drawings accessible, it was unclear the way to fix the problems which occurred. After a part of the roof in Herfeldt’s studio got thoroughly soaked it gave way completely, the only solution was to replace it with another – and so the cycle continued.

In a different area, she describes dripping was extreme that a series of collection units got placed in the suspended ceiling in order to redirect leaks to another outlet.

“I realised that this place acted as a physical form, a completely flawed entity,” Herfeldt states.

This scenario reminded her of a classic film, the director's first movie from the seventies concerning a conscious ship which becomes autonomous. Additionally, observers may note through the heading – a trio of references – more movies have inspired impacting this exhibition. The three names refer to main characters from a horror classic, another scary movie and Alien in that order. Herfeldt cites a 1987 essay written by Carol J Clover, that describes the last women standing as a unique film trope – women left alone to triumph.

“She’s a bit tomboyish, rather quiet and they endure because she’s quite clever,” says Herfeldt regarding this trope. No drug use occurs nor sexual activity. It is irrelevant the viewer’s gender, everyone can relate to this character.”

The artist identifies a parallel from these protagonists and her sculptures – elements that barely maintaining position amidst stress they face. Is the exhibition more about social breakdown than just dripping roofs? As with many structures, these materials meant to insulate and guard us from damage are actually slowly eroding around us.

“Oh, totally,” she confirms.

Earlier in her career using foam materials, she experimented with different unconventional substances. Recent shows have involved organic-looking pieces crafted from fabric similar to found in within outdoor gear or apparel lining. Again there is the sense such unusual creations seem lifelike – some are concertinaed as insects in motion, some droop heavily from walls or spill across doorways collecting debris from touch (Herfeldt encourages people to handle and dirty her art). Like the silicone sculptures, the textile works also occupy – and escaping from – cheap looking display enclosures. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, which is intentional.

“The sculptures exhibit a certain aesthetic that somehow you feel very attracted to, yet simultaneously they’re very disgusting,” she says amusedly. “The art aims for not there, but it’s actually highly noticeable.”

Herfeldt's goal isn't work to make you feel comfortable or visual calm. Rather, her intention is to evoke unease, odd, or even humor. And if there's water droplets on your head too, don’t say the alert was given.