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When considering restroom upgrades, it's advisable not to choose hiring the sculptor for the job.

Truly, Herfeldt is highly skilled with a silicone gun, crafting fascinating creations from this unlikely medium. However as you examine these pieces, the clearer it becomes apparent a certain aspect is a little off.

Those hefty tubes made of silicone Herfeldt forms extend beyond display surfaces supporting them, drooping downwards to the ground. Those twisted silicone strands bulge before bursting open. A few artworks break free from their acrylic glass box homes completely, evolving into an attractor for grime and particles. One could imagine the feedback would not be positive.

“I sometimes have this sense that things seem animated within a space,” states the German artist. Hence I started using this substance because it has this very bodily texture and feeling.”

Certainly there’s something somewhat grotesque in the artist's creations, including the suggestive swelling that protrudes, like a medical condition, from the support at the exhibition's heart, or the gut-like spirals of foam that rupture as if in crisis. Displayed nearby, Herfeldt has framed images depicting the sculptures seen from various perspectives: appearing as squirming organisms observed under magnification, or colonies on a petri-dish.

“It interests me is the idea in our bodies taking place that seem to hold their own life,” she says. Phenomena that are invisible or manage.”

Regarding elements beyond her influence, the poster promoting the event features an image of the leaky ceiling in her own studio in Kreuzberg, Berlin. Constructed made in the seventies and according to her, faced immediate dislike by local people since many older edifices got demolished in order to make way for it. It was already run-down when Herfeldt – who was born in Munich although she spent her youth near Hamburg before arriving in Berlin in her youth – moved in.

The rundown building was frustrating to Herfeldt – it was risky to display her pieces anxiously risk of ruin – but it was also compelling. Lacking architectural drawings on hand, nobody had a clue the way to fix the problems that developed. Once an overhead section in Herfeldt’s studio was saturated enough it gave way completely, the single remedy involved installing the damaged part – and so the cycle continued.

At another site, Herfeldt says the water intrusion was severe so multiple drainage containers were set up above the false roof to divert leaks to another outlet.

I understood that the building resembled an organism, a totally dysfunctional body,” she says.

The situation reminded her of Dark Star, the initial work movie from the seventies about an AI-powered spacecraft that takes on a life of its own. As the exhibition's title suggests through the heading – three distinct names – other cinematic works influenced shaping Herfeldt’s show. The three names refer to main characters from a horror classic, another scary movie plus the sci-fi hit in that order. She mentions a critical analysis by the American professor, that describes these “final girls” a distinctive cinematic theme – female characters isolated to triumph.

“She’s a bit tomboyish, reserved in nature and they endure thanks to resourcefulness,” the artist explains about such characters. No drug use occurs or engage intimately. It is irrelevant the viewer’s gender, we can all identify with this character.”

She draws a connection between these characters to her artworks – elements that barely holding in place despite the pressures they face. Is the exhibition focused on societal collapse than just leaky ceilings? Because like so many institutions, such components that should seal and protect from deterioration are actually slowly eroding within society.

“Absolutely,” says Herfeldt.

Prior to discovering her medium using foam materials, Herfeldt used different unconventional substances. Recent shows have involved forms resembling tongues made from fabric similar to found in on a sleeping bag or inside a jacket. Once more, there's the feeling these strange items seem lifelike – certain pieces are folded like caterpillars mid-crawl, others lollop down from walls blocking passages collecting debris from touch (Herfeldt encourages audiences to interact leaving marks on pieces). As with earlier creations, the textile works are similarly displayed in – and breaking out of – inexpensive-seeming transparent cases. These are unattractive objects, and really that’s the point.

“The sculptures exhibit a certain aesthetic which makes one compelled by, and at the same time appearing gross,” the artist comments grinning. “It tries to be absent, yet in reality extremely obvious.”

Herfeldt's goal isn't work to make you feel relaxation or aesthetically soothed. Conversely, her intention is to evoke uncomfortable, awkward, or even humor. And if there's water droplets on your head too, don’t say the alert was given.