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Should you be thinking about bathroom renovations, it's advisable not to choose engaging this German artist to handle it.

Certainly, Herfeldt is highly skilled with a silicone gun, producing intriguing creations out of an unusual substance. But longer you observe these pieces, the clearer one notices that an element seems somewhat unnerving.

The dense tubes from the foam Herfeldt forms reach past their supports supporting them, sagging off the edges towards the floor. Those twisted tubular forms bulge till they rupture. A few artworks leave their transparent enclosures entirely, becoming an attractor of debris and fibers. One could imagine the reviews are unlikely to earn favorable.

There are moments I feel an impression that items are alive within a space,” remarks the German artist. “That’s why I came to use this substance because it has a distinctly physical feel and appearance.”

Indeed there’s something somewhat grotesque in the artist's creations, starting with that protruding shape which extends, hernia-like, off its base at the exhibition's heart, or the gut-like spirals of foam which split open as if in crisis. On one wall, Herfeldt has framed photocopies showing the pieces seen from various perspectives: appearing as wormy parasites observed under magnification, or colonies in a lab setting.

“It interests me is the idea within us taking place which possess independent existence,” Herfeldt explains. Elements you can’t see or control.”

Talking of elements beyond her influence, the exhibition advertisement for the show features an image of water damage overhead within her workspace in the German capital. Constructed made in the seventies and according to her, was instantly hated from residents since many old buildings got demolished to allow its construction. By the time in a state of disrepair upon her – a native of that city although she spent her youth north of Hamburg then relocating to Berlin during her teens – began using the space.

This decrepit property was frustrating for her work – it was risky to display her pieces without concern risk of ruin – however, it was fascinating. With no building plans available, no one knew methods to address the problems that arose. Once an overhead section in Herfeldt’s studio got thoroughly soaked it fell apart fully, the only solution involved installing the panel with a new one – and so the cycle continued.

At another site, she describes the leaking was so bad that several drainage containers were set up above the false roof in order to redirect the moisture elsewhere.

“I realised that the structure resembled an organism, a completely flawed entity,” Herfeldt states.

This scenario brought to mind a classic film, John Carpenter’s debut cinematic piece about an AI-powered spacecraft that develops independence. And as you might notice through the heading – Alice, Laurie & Ripley – other cinematic works influenced shaping this exhibition. The three names point to the leading women in Friday 13th, another scary movie and Alien respectively. She mentions an academic paper from a scholar, which identifies the last women standing as a unique film trope – protagonists by themselves to triumph.

These figures are somewhat masculine, rather quiet enabling their survival thanks to resourcefulness,” the artist explains about such characters. They avoid substances nor sexual activity. And it doesn’t matter the audience's identity, everyone can relate to the survivor.”

She draws a similarity linking these figures with her creations – objects which only staying put amidst stress they face. Does this mean the art really concerning social breakdown beyond merely water damage? Because like so many institutions, these materials meant to insulate and guard us from damage in fact are decaying within society.

“Oh, totally,” she confirms.

Prior to discovering her medium with sealant applicators, the artist worked with different unconventional substances. Previous exhibitions featured organic-looking pieces made from a synthetic material found in in insulated clothing or inside a jacket. Once more, there's the impression these peculiar objects might animate – certain pieces are folded resembling moving larvae, some droop heavily off surfaces blocking passages gathering grime from contact (Herfeldt encourages people to handle leaving marks on pieces). As with earlier creations, those fabric pieces also occupy – and breaking out of – budget-style display enclosures. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, which is intentional.

“They have a particular style that somehow you feel compelled by, yet simultaneously they’re very disgusting,” Herfeldt remarks grinning. “The art aims for absent, yet in reality very present.”

Herfeldt's goal isn't work to make you feel relaxation or visual calm. Rather, she wants you to feel unease, odd, perhaps entertained. However, should you notice water droplets on your head as well, remember this was foreshadowed.