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If you're planning washroom remodeling, you may want not to choose engaging this German artist for such tasks.

Truly, Herfeldt is a whiz with a silicone gun, crafting compelling sculptures out of an unusual medium. However the more observe these pieces, the clearer you realise a certain aspect seems somewhat strange.

Those hefty lengths of sealant she produces reach beyond display surfaces supporting them, hanging over the sides below. Those twisted tubular forms expand before bursting open. Certain pieces break free from their transparent enclosures completely, evolving into an attractor for grime and particles. Let's just say the feedback would not be pretty.

At times I get the feeling that objects seem animated within a space,” says the sculptor. Hence I came to use this foam material due to its such an organic texture and feeling.”

Indeed there’s something rather body horror about the artist's creations, from the suggestive swelling jutting out, similar to a rupture, off its base at the exhibition's heart, to the intestinal coils of foam which split open like medical emergencies. Displayed nearby, are mounted photocopies depicting the sculptures captured in multiple views: they look like microscopic invaders picked up on a microscope, or growths on a petri-dish.

What captivates me is how certain elements within us happening which possess their own life,” she says. Elements which remain unseen or control.”

On the subject of things she can’t control, the promotional image promoting the event displays a photograph of the leaky ceiling within her workspace in Kreuzberg, Berlin. Constructed erected decades ago and according to her, was instantly hated from residents because a lot of old buildings were torn down in order to make way for it. It was already dilapidated when Herfeldt – originally from Munich but grew up north of Hamburg prior to moving to the capital in her youth – moved in.

The rundown building was frustrating for the artist – it was risky to display her art works anxiously they might be damaged – however, it was fascinating. Lacking architectural drawings on hand, no one knew methods to address the malfunctions that developed. When the ceiling panel at the artist's area became so sodden it collapsed entirely, the sole fix was to replace the damaged part – perpetuating the issue.

At another site, the artist explains dripping was extreme so multiple shower basins got placed within the drop ceiling to divert the moisture elsewhere.

I understood that the structure resembled an organism, a completely flawed entity,” she says.

These conditions evoked memories of a classic film, the director's first 1974 film concerning a conscious ship which becomes autonomous. And as you might notice given the naming – three distinct names – other cinematic works influenced to have influenced Herfeldt’s show. These titles point to the female protagonists in Friday 13th, the iconic thriller plus the sci-fi hit respectively. The artist references an academic paper by the American professor, which identifies these “final girls” as a unique film trope – women left alone to overcome.

They often display toughness, reserved in nature and they endure thanks to resourcefulness,” she elaborates regarding this trope. No drug use occurs or engage intimately. And it doesn’t matter the audience's identity, we can all identify with the survivor.”

Herfeldt sees a similarity linking these figures with her creations – objects which only staying put amidst stress affecting them. Is the exhibition really concerning societal collapse beyond merely water damage? Similar to various systems, these materials that should seal and protect from deterioration are actually slowly eroding around us.

“Oh, totally,” she confirms.

Before finding inspiration using foam materials, the artist worked with different unconventional substances. Past displays included tongue-like shapes crafted from fabric similar to you might see on a sleeping bag or inside a jacket. Once more, there's the sense these strange items could come alive – some are concertinaed as insects in motion, others lollop down from walls blocking passages attracting dirt from footprints (Herfeldt encourages people to handle and dirty her art). Similar to the foam artworks, these nylon creations also occupy – and escaping from – cheap looking acrylic glass boxes. They’re ugly looking things, and that's the essence.

“These works possess a specific look which makes one compelled by, while also they’re very disgusting,” Herfeldt remarks grinning. “It tries to be invisible, yet in reality extremely obvious.”

Herfeldt is not making pieces that offer comfortable or visual calm. Conversely, her intention is to evoke discomfort, odd, maybe even amused. However, should you notice water droplets on your head as well, don’t say the alert was given.