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If you're planning washroom remodeling, you may want to avoid hiring this German artist to handle it.

Indeed, she's a whiz in handling foam materials, crafting compelling creations out of an unusual substance. But as you observe these pieces, the stronger you realise that an element is a little unnerving.

Those hefty tubes of sealant she produces reach beyond their supports on which they sit, hanging over the sides below. Those twisted tubular forms expand before bursting open. Some creations break free from their acrylic glass box homes fully, evolving into a magnet for grime and particles. One could imagine the reviews are unlikely to earn pretty.

At times I get the feeling that objects are alive in a room,” says the German artist. Hence I turned to this substance due to its such an organic texture and feeling.”

In fact there is an element somewhat grotesque in the artist's creations, starting with that protruding shape which extends, hernia-like, off its base at the exhibition's heart, to the intestinal coils made of silicone that burst like medical emergencies. On one wall, are mounted images showing the pieces seen from various perspectives: resembling wormy parasites observed under magnification, or formations on a petri-dish.

What captivates me is how certain elements inside human forms occurring that also have their own life,” she says. Phenomena which remain unseen or manage.”

Talking of elements beyond her influence, the promotional image featured in the exhibition features an image of the leaky ceiling in her own studio located in Berlin. It was erected decades ago and according to her, faced immediate dislike among the community because a lot of older edifices were removed to allow its construction. By the time run-down upon her – who was born in Munich yet raised near Hamburg then relocating to Berlin in her youth – took up residence.

This deteriorating space was frustrating for the artist – she couldn’t hang her pieces without concern potential harm – but it was also fascinating. Lacking architectural drawings accessible, no one knew the way to fix the malfunctions that arose. After a part of the roof in Herfeldt’s studio was saturated enough it gave way completely, the only solution was to replace the panel with a new one – and so the cycle continued.

In a different area, she describes dripping was extreme so multiple drainage containers were installed within the drop ceiling to divert the water to a different sink.

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

This scenario brought to mind a classic film, John Carpenter’s debut cinematic piece about an AI-powered spacecraft that takes on a life of its own. Additionally, observers may note through the heading – Alice, Laurie & Ripley – more movies have inspired impacting Herfeldt’s show. These titles refer to the female protagonists in the slasher film, another scary movie and Alien in that order. Herfeldt cites an academic paper from a scholar, outlining these surviving characters a distinctive cinematic theme – women left alone to overcome.

These figures are somewhat masculine, on the silent side and she can survive due to intelligence,” she elaborates about such characters. “They don’t take drugs or engage intimately. Regardless the audience's identity, everyone can relate to the final girl.”

The artist identifies a connection from these protagonists and her sculptures – elements that barely staying put under strain affecting them. Is the exhibition really concerning social breakdown than just water damage? Similar to various systems, these materials that should seal and protect us from damage are actually slowly eroding around us.

“Absolutely,” she confirms.

Before finding inspiration in the silicone gun, Herfeldt used different unconventional substances. Recent shows featured tongue-like shapes made from the kind of nylon fabric found in on a sleeping bag or in coats. Again there is the impression these peculiar objects could come alive – some are concertinaed resembling moving larvae, some droop heavily from walls blocking passages attracting dirt from footprints (Herfeldt encourages audiences to interact and soil the works). As with earlier creations, these nylon creations are similarly displayed in – and escaping from – inexpensive-seeming transparent cases. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, and really that’s the point.

“The sculptures exhibit a certain aesthetic which makes one highly drawn to, yet simultaneously appearing gross,” the artist comments grinning. “The art aims for invisible, but it’s actually extremely obvious.”

Herfeldt's goal isn't pieces that offer comfortable or visual calm. Conversely, her intention is to evoke unease, awkward, or even humor. And if there's something wet dripping overhead as well, consider yourself you haven’t been warned.