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Should you be thinking about washroom remodeling, you may want not to choose employing this German artist to handle it.

Truly, she's a whiz in handling foam materials, creating intriguing sculptures from this unlikely medium. But longer you look at these pieces, the clearer it becomes apparent that something is a little unnerving.

The thick lengths made of silicone Herfeldt forms extend past the shelves on which they sit, sagging off the edges to the ground. Those twisted foam pipes swell till they rupture. Certain pieces leave their acrylic glass box homes entirely, turning into a magnet of debris and fibers. Let's just say the ratings would not be favorable.

“I sometimes have an impression that objects possess life inside an area,” says the German artist. Hence I turned to this foam material because it has this very bodily sensation and look.”

Certainly one can detect almost visceral regarding the artist's creations, from the phallic bulge jutting out, similar to a rupture, off its base in the centre of the gallery, to the intestinal coils from the material that burst as if in crisis. On one wall, the artist presents prints depicting the sculptures viewed from different angles: appearing as squirming organisms picked up on a microscope, or growths on culture plates.

What captivates me that there are things in our bodies taking place that also have independent existence,” Herfeldt explains. Phenomena that are invisible or command.”

On the subject of unmanageable factors, the poster for the show displays a photograph showing a dripping roof in her own studio in Kreuzberg, Berlin. The building had been erected decades ago and according to her, faced immediate dislike from residents since many older edifices were removed to allow its construction. By the time run-down upon her – a native of that city although she spent her youth north of Hamburg before arriving in Berlin as a teenager – began using the space.

This deteriorating space caused issues to Herfeldt – placing artworks was difficult the sculptures without fearing potential harm – however, it was intriguing. Without any blueprints accessible, nobody had a clue methods to address any of the issues that developed. When the ceiling panel in Herfeldt’s studio became so sodden it fell apart fully, the only solution meant swapping the damaged part – perpetuating the issue.

Elsewhere on the property, the artist explains the water intrusion was severe that a series of collection units got placed in the suspended ceiling to channel leaks to another outlet.

“I realised that this place acted as a physical form, a completely flawed entity,” the artist comments.

This scenario brought to mind the sci-fi movie, the director's first cinematic piece about an AI-powered spacecraft that takes on a life of its own. Additionally, observers may note given the naming – three distinct names – that’s not the only film impacting Herfeldt’s show. The three names point to the leading women from a horror classic, Halloween and Alien respectively. Herfeldt cites an academic paper from a scholar, outlining the last women standing a distinctive cinematic theme – women left alone to save the day.

These figures are somewhat masculine, rather quiet and they endure thanks to resourcefulness,” says Herfeldt about such characters. “They don’t take drugs nor sexual activity. And it doesn’t matter who is watching, we can all identify with the final girl.”

She draws a similarity linking these figures and her sculptures – elements that barely staying put amidst stress they’re under. So is her work more about social breakdown than just water damage? As with many structures, substances like silicone that should seal and protect from deterioration are actually slowly eroding around us.

“Completely,” says Herfeldt.

Prior to discovering her medium using foam materials, the artist worked with different unconventional substances. Past displays have involved organic-looking pieces using fabric similar to you might see in insulated clothing or inside a jacket. Once more, there's the feeling these strange items seem lifelike – some are concertinaed resembling moving larvae, some droop heavily from walls or extend through entries attracting dirt from footprints (The artist invites viewers to touch and soil the works). Like the silicone sculptures, these nylon creations are similarly displayed in – and escaping from – inexpensive-seeming display enclosures. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, which is intentional.

“The sculptures exhibit a specific look that draws viewers highly drawn to, and at the same time being quite repulsive,” she says grinning. “It tries to be absent, however, it is very present.”

Herfeldt is not making work to make you feel ease or aesthetically soothed. Instead, she aims for uncomfortable, awkward, maybe even amused. And if there's something wet dripping from above as well, consider yourself you haven’t been warned.