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When considering restroom upgrades, you may want to steer clear of hiring the sculptor to handle it.

Certainly, she's a whiz in handling foam materials, producing intriguing creations out of an unusual art material. Yet longer you observe these pieces, the clearer you realise that an element seems somewhat unnerving.

The dense tubes of sealant Herfeldt forms reach over display surfaces supporting them, drooping off the edges to the ground. The gnarled tubular forms expand until they split. Some creations leave the display cases completely, evolving into a collector for grime and particles. One could imagine the reviews would not be pretty.

There are moments I feel the feeling that items possess life in a room,” states Herfeldt. “That’s why I came to use this substance because it has such an organic feel and appearance.”

Indeed one can detect somewhat grotesque about these sculptures, starting with the phallic bulge that protrudes, like a medical condition, from its cylindrical stand within the showspace, to the intestinal coils made of silicone which split open like medical emergencies. Along a surface, Herfeldt has framed images depicting the sculptures captured in multiple views: appearing as squirming organisms seen in scientific samples, or colonies on culture plates.

“It interests me is how certain elements inside human forms happening that also have a life of their own,” she says. “Things you can’t see or control.”

Talking of unmanageable factors, the promotional image promoting the event displays an image of water damage overhead in her own studio in Kreuzberg, Berlin. Constructed built in the early 1970s as she explains, was instantly hated from residents since many older edifices got demolished for its development. The place was run-down when Herfeldt – who was born in Munich but grew up near Hamburg then relocating to Berlin during her teens – took up residence.

This decrepit property was frustrating for her work – placing artworks was difficult her art works without concern potential harm – however, it was intriguing. With no building plans available, it was unclear methods to address any of the issues which occurred. Once an overhead section within her workspace was saturated enough it gave way completely, the only solution involved installing it with another – and so the cycle continued.

Elsewhere on the property, the artist explains the water intrusion was severe so multiple collection units were installed within the drop ceiling to divert the moisture elsewhere.

It dawned on me that the structure acted as a physical form, a completely flawed entity,” the artist comments.

The situation reminded her of the sci-fi movie, the director's first cinematic piece featuring a smart spaceship which becomes autonomous. And as you might notice through the heading – Alice, Laurie & Ripley – more movies have inspired shaping Herfeldt’s show. Those labels refer to the leading women from a horror classic, Halloween plus the sci-fi hit respectively. Herfeldt cites a critical analysis by the American professor, which identifies these surviving characters a distinctive cinematic theme – women left alone to save the day.

These figures are somewhat masculine, on the silent side and she can survive thanks to resourcefulness,” says Herfeldt of the archetypal final girl. “They don’t take drugs nor sexual activity. Regardless the viewer’s gender, we can all identify with the final girl.”

Herfeldt sees a parallel linking these figures and her sculptures – objects which only staying put under strain affecting them. So is her work focused on social breakdown than just water damage? As with many structures, such components meant to insulate and guard from deterioration are gradually failing within society.

“Completely,” responds the artist.

Prior to discovering her medium in the silicone gun, the artist worked with alternative odd mediums. Past displays have involved tongue-like shapes crafted from fabric similar to you might see on a sleeping bag or apparel lining. Again there is the sense these strange items might animate – some are concertinaed resembling moving larvae, pieces hang loosely from walls or extend through entries gathering grime from contact (Herfeldt encourages viewers to touch and dirty her art). As with earlier creations, those fabric pieces are also housed in – and escaping from – cheap looking transparent cases. They’re ugly looking things, and really that’s the point.

“They have a specific look that somehow you feel very attracted to, and at the same time appearing gross,” she says amusedly. “It attempts to seem invisible, however, it is very present.”

The artist does not create art to provide comfortable or aesthetically soothed. Conversely, she wants you to feel unease, awkward, perhaps entertained. But if you start to feel something wet dripping from above additionally, remember you haven’t been warned.