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Should you be thinking about restroom upgrades, you may want to steer clear of engaging Lisa Herfeldt for the job.

Certainly, she's highly skilled with a silicone gun, crafting fascinating creations with a surprising medium. But the more examine her creations, the clearer one notices a certain aspect seems somewhat off.

The thick tubes from the foam she produces reach beyond the shelves on which they sit, sagging downwards to the ground. Those twisted foam pipes bulge till they rupture. Certain pieces escape their acrylic glass box homes entirely, turning into a magnet for grime and particles. One could imagine the reviews are unlikely to earn positive.

At times I get an impression that items possess life within a space,” says the German artist. Hence I started using silicone sealant because it has such an organic feel and appearance.”

Certainly there’s something rather body horror regarding the artist's creations, including the phallic bulge which extends, similar to a rupture, from its cylindrical stand within the showspace, and the winding tubes made of silicone that rupture resembling bodily failures. On one wall, Herfeldt has framed images depicting the sculptures viewed from different angles: resembling microscopic invaders picked up on a microscope, or growths on a petri-dish.

“It interests me is how certain elements within us happening which possess a life of their own,” Herfeldt explains. “Things which remain unseen or command.”

On the subject of things she can’t control, the poster promoting the event includes a photograph of water damage overhead at her creative space in the German capital. It was erected decades ago and according to her, was instantly hated among the community as numerous older edifices were torn down in order to make way for it. It was already in a state of disrepair when Herfeldt – a native of that city yet raised north of Hamburg prior to moving to the capital in her youth – took up residence.

This deteriorating space proved challenging for the artist – placing artworks was difficult the sculptures without concern potential harm – however, it was intriguing. Lacking architectural drawings available, nobody had a clue methods to address any of the issues which occurred. When the ceiling panel at the artist's area was saturated enough it fell apart fully, the single remedy involved installing the panel with a new one – perpetuating the issue.

Elsewhere on the property, the artist explains dripping was extreme so multiple drainage containers were set up within the drop ceiling to divert leaks to another outlet.

“I realised that this place resembled an organism, a totally dysfunctional body,” the artist comments.

This scenario reminded her of Dark Star, the initial work cinematic piece concerning a conscious ship that develops independence. Additionally, observers may note given the naming – three distinct names – other cinematic works influenced impacting the artist's presentation. Those labels refer to main characters in the slasher film, the iconic thriller and the extraterrestrial saga respectively. Herfeldt cites a 1987 essay written by Carol J Clover, outlining the last women standing as a unique film trope – female characters isolated to save the day.

They often display toughness, on the silent side and they endure thanks to resourcefulness,” she elaborates of the archetypal final girl. No drug use occurs or engage intimately. It is irrelevant the audience's identity, we can all identify with the final girl.”

Herfeldt sees a parallel linking these figures and her sculptures – things that are just about holding in place under strain they face. Is the exhibition more about cultural decay beyond merely dripping roofs? Because like so many institutions, these materials intended to secure and shield from deterioration in fact are decaying in our environment.

“Completely,” says Herfeldt.

Earlier in her career in the silicone gun, she experimented with different unconventional substances. Previous exhibitions featured tongue-like shapes crafted from a synthetic material typical for within outdoor gear or inside a jacket. Again there is the impression these strange items might animate – certain pieces are folded resembling moving larvae, others lollop down off surfaces or extend through entries attracting dirt from footprints (Herfeldt encourages audiences to interact and dirty her art). Similar to the foam artworks, the textile works are similarly displayed in – leaving – budget-style transparent cases. They’re ugly looking things, which is intentional.

“They have a specific look which makes one compelled by, and at the same time being quite repulsive,” the artist comments grinning. “It attempts to seem absent, however, it is very present.”

Herfeldt's goal isn't work to make you feel ease or beauty. Conversely, her intention is to evoke uncomfortable, odd, or even humor. But if you start to feel water droplets on your head too, don’t say the alert was given.