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Should you be thinking about washroom remodeling, you may want to steer clear of engaging Lisa Herfeldt for such tasks.

Certainly, she's highly skilled with a silicone gun, crafting compelling artworks from this unlikely substance. But the more examine her creations, the clearer it becomes apparent a certain aspect seems somewhat strange.

The dense lengths from the foam she produces reach beyond their supports on which they sit, hanging over the sides below. The gnarled silicone strands bulge till they rupture. Certain pieces break free from the display cases entirely, becoming an attractor of debris and fibers. It's safe to say the feedback are unlikely to earn positive.

“I sometimes have this sense that things are alive inside an area,” remarks the sculptor. This is why I came to use silicone sealant as it offers this very bodily texture and feeling.”

Indeed there is an element somewhat grotesque regarding the artist's creations, including the phallic bulge that protrudes, like a medical condition, off its base within the showspace, or the gut-like spirals of foam that rupture resembling bodily failures. On one wall, are mounted images depicting the sculptures captured in multiple views: resembling squirming organisms picked up on a microscope, or formations on culture plates.

“It interests me that there are things in our bodies occurring that also have their own life,” Herfeldt explains. “Things you can’t see or manage.”

On the subject of things she can’t control, the promotional image featured in the exhibition includes a photograph showing a dripping roof in her own studio in the German capital. The building had been made in the seventies as she explains, was quickly despised by local people because a lot of older edifices got demolished in order to make way for it. The place was dilapidated as the artist – a native of that city although she spent her youth in northern Germany before arriving in Berlin as a teenager – moved in.

This deteriorating space was frustrating for her work – she couldn’t hang the sculptures without concern risk of ruin – yet it also proved compelling. Without any blueprints accessible, it was unclear methods to address the problems that arose. After a part of the roof at the artist's area became so sodden it collapsed entirely, the only solution involved installing it with another – thus repeating the process.

In a different area, the artist explains the water intrusion was severe that several shower basins were installed above the false roof to channel the water to a different sink.

I understood that the structure acted as a physical form, a totally dysfunctional body,” Herfeldt states.

The situation brought to mind a classic film, the director's first 1974 film concerning a conscious ship that takes on a life of its own. Additionally, observers may note given the naming – a trio of references – more movies have inspired to have influenced the artist's presentation. The three names refer to the female protagonists in Friday 13th, the iconic thriller plus the sci-fi hit as listed. Herfeldt cites a critical analysis written by Carol J Clover, which identifies the last women standing a distinctive cinematic theme – female characters isolated to save the day.

These figures are somewhat masculine, on the silent side and they endure because she’s quite clever,” the artist explains about such characters. “They don’t take drugs nor sexual activity. And it doesn’t matter the audience's identity, everyone can relate to this character.”

Herfeldt sees a parallel linking these figures to her artworks – elements that barely holding in place under strain they’re under. Is the exhibition focused on cultural decay rather than simply water damage? Similar to various systems, such components meant to insulate and guard from deterioration are actually slowly eroding within society.

“Completely,” she confirms.

Prior to discovering her medium with sealant applicators, she experimented with different unconventional substances. Recent shows have involved forms resembling tongues using the kind of nylon fabric found in on a sleeping bag or inside a jacket. Again there is the sense such unusual creations could come alive – a few are compressed like caterpillars mid-crawl, some droop heavily from walls or extend through entries collecting debris from touch (Herfeldt encourages people to handle and dirty her art). Similar to the foam artworks, those fabric pieces are similarly displayed in – leaving – inexpensive-seeming acrylic glass boxes. These are unattractive objects, and that's the essence.

“They have a particular style that draws viewers highly drawn to, while also appearing gross,” she says amusedly. “It tries to be absent, however, it is extremely obvious.”

Herfeldt is not making art to provide comfortable or visual calm. Instead, she wants you to feel discomfort, awkward, or even humor. However, should you notice water droplets on your head too, don’t say this was foreshadowed.