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Should you be thinking about restroom upgrades, you may want to steer clear of hiring the sculptor for such tasks.

Indeed, Herfeldt is highly skilled in handling foam materials, crafting intriguing artworks with a surprising art material. But longer you look at these pieces, the stronger you realise that something is a little unnerving.

The thick tubes made of silicone she produces reach over the shelves supporting them, drooping over the sides below. The gnarled tubular forms bulge before bursting open. A few artworks escape the display cases completely, becoming a collector of debris and fibers. It's safe to say the ratings might not get favorable.

“I sometimes have the feeling that objects are alive inside an area,” remarks the sculptor. “That’s why I came to use silicone sealant as it offers this very bodily feel and appearance.”

In fact there is an element somewhat grotesque in the artist's creations, starting with that protruding shape that protrudes, hernia-like, from its cylindrical stand in the centre of the gallery, or the gut-like spirals of foam which split open like medical emergencies. Along a surface, are mounted prints showing the pieces seen from various perspectives: resembling wormy parasites seen in scientific samples, or formations on a petri-dish.

“It interests me is the idea within us happening that also have independent existence,” she says. Elements you can’t see or control.”

Talking of things she can’t control, the promotional image featured in the exhibition features a photograph of the leaky ceiling within her workspace located in Berlin. The building had been built in the early 1970s and, she says, was instantly hated by local people since many historic structures were torn down in order to make way for it. By the time run-down upon her – originally from Munich although she spent her youth near Hamburg prior to moving to the capital in her youth – began using the space.

This deteriorating space was frustrating to Herfeldt – she couldn’t hang her art works without concern they might be damaged – however, it was compelling. With no building plans accessible, nobody had a clue methods to address the malfunctions which occurred. Once an overhead section within her workspace was saturated enough it fell apart fully, the only solution involved installing the damaged part – perpetuating the issue.

Elsewhere on the property, Herfeldt says dripping was extreme that a series of shower basins got placed within the drop ceiling to divert the water to a different sink.

It dawned on me that the structure acted as a physical form, a totally dysfunctional body,” Herfeldt states.

This scenario brought to mind Dark Star, the initial work movie from the seventies featuring a smart spaceship which becomes autonomous. Additionally, observers may note through the heading – Alice, Laurie & Ripley – more movies have inspired shaping the artist's presentation. Those labels refer to the leading women in the slasher film, another scary movie and the extraterrestrial saga respectively. Herfeldt cites an academic paper from a scholar, that describes the last women standing as a unique film trope – women left alone to overcome.

They often display toughness, reserved in nature enabling their survival due to intelligence,” the artist explains about such characters. No drug use occurs or engage intimately. Regardless the audience's identity, we can all identify with the final girl.”

The artist identifies a parallel linking these figures with her creations – objects which only holding in place despite the pressures affecting them. Is the exhibition more about societal collapse beyond merely dripping roofs? As with many structures, these materials that should seal and protect us from damage are actually slowly eroding in our environment.

“Absolutely,” responds the artist.

Prior to discovering her medium with sealant applicators, Herfeldt used different unconventional substances. Past displays included forms resembling tongues crafted from a synthetic material you might see in insulated clothing or in coats. Once more, there's the feeling such unusual creations seem lifelike – a few are compressed resembling moving larvae, others lollop down from walls or extend through entries collecting debris from touch (She prompts viewers to touch and soil the works). Like the silicone sculptures, the textile works are similarly displayed in – and escaping from – inexpensive-seeming transparent cases. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, and that's the essence.

“The sculptures exhibit a specific look that draws viewers very attracted to, yet simultaneously they’re very disgusting,” the artist comments with a smile. “It tries to be invisible, yet in reality extremely obvious.”

Herfeldt's goal isn't pieces that offer ease or aesthetically soothed. Conversely, she aims for discomfort, strange, or even humor. And if there's water droplets from above as well, consider yourself you haven’t been warned.