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If you're planning restroom upgrades, you may want to steer clear of hiring Lisa Herfeldt for such tasks.

Indeed, Herfeldt is an expert in handling foam materials, creating intriguing creations from this unlikely art material. Yet the more observe these pieces, the stronger it becomes apparent that an element is a little strange.

The thick lengths of sealant she produces extend over their supports on which they sit, hanging off the edges towards the floor. The knotty silicone strands bulge until they split. Some creations escape their acrylic glass box homes fully, becoming a collector of debris and fibers. One could imagine the ratings would not be favorable.

At times I get an impression that things are alive within a space,” says Herfeldt. Hence I came to use this substance as it offers such an organic sensation and look.”

Certainly one can detect somewhat grotesque in the artist's creations, from that protruding shape jutting out, like a medical condition, from its cylindrical stand within the showspace, to the intestinal coils from the material that burst as if in crisis. Displayed nearby, are mounted photocopies showing the pieces seen from various perspectives: appearing as squirming organisms seen in scientific samples, or formations on a petri-dish.

I am fascinated by is the idea in our bodies taking place which possess their own life,” the artist notes. “Things which remain unseen or control.”

Talking of things she can’t control, the exhibition advertisement featured in the exhibition features an image showing a dripping roof in her own studio in Kreuzberg, Berlin. The building had been built in the early 1970s as she explains, was instantly hated by local people as numerous old buildings were removed for its development. By the time run-down upon her – a native of that city yet raised north of Hamburg then relocating to Berlin in her youth – moved in.

This deteriorating space proved challenging to Herfeldt – it was risky to display her pieces without concern risk of ruin – however, it was fascinating. Without any blueprints available, nobody had a clue the way to fix any of the issues which occurred. After a part of the roof within her workspace got thoroughly soaked it gave way completely, the sole fix was to replace the damaged part – thus repeating the process.

In a different area, Herfeldt says the water intrusion was severe that a series of collection units were set up within the drop ceiling to channel leaks to another outlet.

“I realised that this place acted as a physical form, an entirely malfunctioning system,” the artist comments.

This scenario reminded her of the sci-fi movie, the director's first movie from the seventies about an AI-powered spacecraft which becomes autonomous. Additionally, observers may note through the heading – a trio of references – more movies have inspired to have influenced Herfeldt’s show. The three names refer to main characters from a horror classic, another scary movie and Alien as listed. The artist references an academic paper by the American professor, which identifies the last women standing an original movie concept – female characters isolated to overcome.

“She’s a bit tomboyish, rather quiet enabling their survival thanks to resourcefulness,” the artist explains about such characters. “They don’t take drugs or have sex. Regardless the viewer’s gender, we can all identify with the final girl.”

She draws a connection from these protagonists and her sculptures – objects which only staying put despite the pressures they’re under. Does this mean the art really concerning societal collapse beyond merely dripping roofs? Similar to various systems, these materials intended to secure and shield us from damage are actually slowly eroding around us.

“Oh, totally,” responds the artist.

Earlier in her career with sealant applicators, the artist worked with alternative odd mediums. Past displays included organic-looking pieces made from the kind of nylon fabric you might see on a sleeping bag or in coats. Again there is the impression these strange items seem lifelike – certain pieces are folded resembling moving larvae, pieces hang loosely on vertical planes or extend through entries attracting dirt from footprints (She prompts viewers to touch and soil the works). As with earlier creations, these nylon creations are similarly displayed in – leaving – inexpensive-seeming transparent cases. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, which is intentional.

“These works possess a specific look which makes one compelled by, and at the same time they’re very disgusting,” Herfeldt remarks with a smile. “It tries to be absent, but it’s actually highly noticeable.”

Herfeldt is not making work to make you feel relaxation or aesthetically soothed. Conversely, she aims for unease, odd, maybe even amused. And if there's something wet dripping on your head as well, don’t say this was foreshadowed.