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When considering bathroom renovations, it's advisable to avoid hiring Lisa Herfeldt to handle it.

Truly, Herfeldt is highly skilled using sealant applicators, creating fascinating sculptures out of an unusual substance. But as you look at her creations, the clearer you realise that an element feels slightly unnerving.

Those hefty strands from the foam she crafts extend beyond display surfaces supporting them, sagging off the edges towards the floor. The gnarled silicone strands swell till they rupture. Some creations escape the display cases fully, becoming a magnet of debris and fibers. It's safe to say the ratings are unlikely to earn favorable.

“I sometimes have an impression that things seem animated in a room,” states the sculptor. “That’s why I started using silicone sealant because it has a distinctly physical texture and feeling.”

In fact one can detect almost visceral in Herfeldt’s work, including that protruding shape which extends, like a medical condition, from the support at the exhibition's heart, and the winding tubes of foam that rupture like medical emergencies. Displayed nearby, are mounted images depicting the sculptures seen from various perspectives: they look like microscopic invaders picked up on a microscope, or formations on a petri-dish.

What captivates me is the idea in our bodies taking place which possess independent existence,” the artist notes. Elements you can’t see or manage.”

On the subject of things she can’t control, the exhibition advertisement featured in the exhibition includes a photograph of the leaky ceiling in her own studio located in Berlin. It was made in the seventies and, she says, faced immediate dislike by local people since many old buildings got demolished for its development. The place was run-down as the artist – a native of that city but grew up north of Hamburg prior to moving to the capital as a teenager – moved in.

This decrepit property proved challenging to Herfeldt – placing artworks was difficult the sculptures anxiously potential harm – yet it also proved fascinating. With no building plans accessible, nobody had a clue methods to address the problems which occurred. When the ceiling panel at the artist's area got thoroughly soaked it fell apart fully, the sole fix meant swapping it with another – perpetuating the issue.

Elsewhere on the property, she describes the leaking was so bad that several collection units got placed above the false roof to channel leaks to another outlet.

I understood that the structure resembled an organism, an entirely malfunctioning system,” Herfeldt states.

The situation evoked memories of Dark Star, the initial work cinematic piece concerning a conscious ship which becomes autonomous. Additionally, observers may note given the naming – three distinct names – more movies have inspired shaping Herfeldt’s show. The three names point to main characters in the slasher film, another scary movie and Alien as listed. Herfeldt cites a critical analysis by the American professor, outlining the last women standing as a unique film trope – protagonists by themselves to save the day.

“She’s a bit tomboyish, reserved in nature enabling their survival because she’s quite clever,” she elaborates of the archetypal final girl. No drug use occurs or engage intimately. It is irrelevant the viewer’s gender, everyone can relate to the survivor.”

She draws a parallel from these protagonists with her creations – things that are just about holding in place despite the pressures they’re under. Does this mean the art really concerning social breakdown than just dripping roofs? As with many structures, substances like silicone intended to secure and shield against harm in fact are decaying within society.

“Oh, totally,” responds the artist.

Prior to discovering her medium in the silicone gun, she experimented with other unusual materials. Recent shows have involved tongue-like shapes using the kind of nylon fabric you might see on a sleeping bag or apparel lining. Similarly, one finds the feeling these strange items seem lifelike – certain pieces are folded as insects in motion, pieces hang loosely from walls or spill across doorways gathering grime from contact (She prompts viewers to touch and soil the works). Similar to the foam artworks, the textile works also occupy – leaving – budget-style transparent cases. These are unattractive objects, and that's the essence.

“They have a particular style that somehow you feel very attracted to, yet simultaneously appearing gross,” she says amusedly. “It tries to be invisible, however, it is very present.”

Herfeldt is not making pieces that offer relaxation or visual calm. Conversely, she aims for unease, awkward, or even humor. And if there's a moist sensation on your head as well, consider yourself the alert was given.