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When considering restroom upgrades, it's advisable to avoid hiring Lisa Herfeldt to handle it.

Indeed, she's an expert with a silicone gun, crafting fascinating sculptures out of an unusual substance. But longer you look at her creations, the stronger one notices that an element feels slightly strange.

The dense tubes from the foam she crafts extend past the shelves on which they sit, drooping over the sides to the ground. The knotty silicone strands swell until they split. Some creations escape their transparent enclosures entirely, turning into a collector for dust and hair. One could imagine the ratings are unlikely to earn positive.

“I sometimes have the feeling that objects seem animated within a space,” states the sculptor. Hence I came to use this substance as it offers a distinctly physical sensation and look.”

Certainly there is an element somewhat grotesque in these sculptures, starting with the suggestive swelling that protrudes, hernia-like, from its cylindrical stand within the showspace, and the winding tubes of foam which split open as if in crisis. Displayed nearby, the artist presents prints showing the pieces viewed from different angles: resembling wormy parasites picked up on a microscope, or colonies in a lab setting.

What captivates me is how certain elements within us occurring which possess a life of their own,” the artist notes. “Things you can’t see or manage.”

Talking of unmanageable factors, the poster featured in the exhibition features a picture showing a dripping roof at her creative space located in Berlin. Constructed built in the early 1970s as she explains, was instantly hated from residents since many older edifices were torn down for its development. The place was dilapidated upon her – a native of that city yet raised near Hamburg prior to moving to the capital during her teens – began using the space.

The rundown building proved challenging for her work – it was risky to display her art works anxiously risk of ruin – however, it was compelling. Lacking architectural drawings available, nobody had a clue how to repair any of the issues that developed. Once an overhead section within her workspace got thoroughly soaked it gave way completely, the single remedy involved installing it with another – thus repeating the process.

Elsewhere on the property, she describes the leaking was so bad so multiple collection units were installed above the false roof to channel leaks to another outlet.

“I realised that the building resembled an organism, a completely flawed entity,” the artist comments.

The situation reminded her of a classic film, the initial work movie from the seventies about an AI-powered spacecraft that develops independence. And as you might notice given the naming – Alice, Laurie & Ripley – that’s not the only film shaping Herfeldt’s show. These titles refer to the female protagonists in the slasher film, the iconic thriller and the extraterrestrial saga as listed. She mentions an academic paper by the American professor, outlining the last women standing an original movie concept – women left alone to triumph.

“She’s a bit tomboyish, on the silent side enabling their survival thanks to resourcefulness,” she elaborates of the archetypal final girl. They avoid substances or have sex. And it doesn’t matter who is watching, everyone can relate to this character.”

She draws a parallel linking these figures with her creations – elements that barely maintaining position despite the pressures they face. So is her work more about social breakdown rather than simply dripping roofs? As with many structures, these materials that should seal and protect against harm are gradually failing around us.

“Completely,” she confirms.

Before finding inspiration with sealant applicators, Herfeldt used other unusual materials. Recent shows featured organic-looking pieces made from the kind of nylon fabric found in on a sleeping bag or in coats. Again there is the impression such unusual creations could come alive – a few are compressed like caterpillars mid-crawl, some droop heavily off surfaces or spill across doorways gathering grime from contact (The artist invites people to handle and dirty her art). Like the silicone sculptures, these nylon creations are similarly displayed in – leaving – budget-style transparent cases. These are unattractive objects, which is intentional.

“These works possess a specific look that somehow you feel very attracted to, yet simultaneously appearing gross,” the artist comments with a smile. “It tries to be not there, but it’s actually extremely obvious.”

Herfeldt's goal isn't art to provide relaxation or aesthetically soothed. Rather, she wants you to feel uncomfortable, strange, perhaps entertained. And if there's something wet dripping overhead too, don’t say the alert was given.