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When considering restroom upgrades, it's advisable not to choose employing this German artist for such tasks.

Indeed, Herfeldt is an expert using sealant applicators, producing intriguing creations from this unlikely substance. Yet longer you examine her creations, the clearer it becomes apparent a certain aspect is a little off.

The dense lengths from the foam Herfeldt forms extend over the shelves supporting them, hanging off the edges below. Those twisted silicone strands bulge until they split. Certain pieces escape their transparent enclosures completely, turning into a collector for grime and particles. Let's just say the reviews are unlikely to earn favorable.

At times I get the feeling that objects seem animated within a space,” says Herfeldt. “That’s why I came to use silicone sealant as it offers this very bodily sensation and look.”

Certainly one can detect almost visceral regarding the artist's creations, starting with the phallic bulge jutting out, similar to a rupture, from the support in the centre of the gallery, and the winding tubes made of silicone which split open like medical emergencies. Along a surface, Herfeldt has framed photocopies of the works captured in multiple views: resembling squirming organisms seen in scientific samples, or growths on a petri-dish.

I am fascinated by is the idea within us occurring which possess independent existence,” she says. Elements that are invisible or command.”

Talking of things she can’t control, the exhibition advertisement promoting the event features a picture of the leaky ceiling in her own studio located in Berlin. It was built in the early 1970s and according to her, was quickly despised from residents since many historic structures got demolished to allow its construction. It was already in a state of disrepair when Herfeldt – a native of that city yet raised in northern Germany then relocating to Berlin during her teens – took up residence.

The rundown building caused issues for the artist – she couldn’t hang the sculptures without concern they might be damaged – yet it also proved intriguing. Without any blueprints on hand, it was unclear the way to fix the problems that developed. When the ceiling panel at the artist's area was saturated enough it collapsed entirely, the sole fix involved installing the panel with a new one – and so the cycle continued.

In a different area, she describes the leaking was so bad that a series of collection units were set up in the suspended ceiling to divert leaks to another outlet.

“I realised that the building acted as a physical form, a totally dysfunctional body,” Herfeldt states.

This scenario reminded her of the sci-fi movie, the director's first movie from the seventies featuring a smart spaceship that develops independence. As the exhibition's title suggests from the show’s title – three distinct names – other cinematic works influenced to have influenced this exhibition. These titles indicate main characters in the slasher film, another scary movie and Alien as listed. She mentions a critical analysis written by Carol J Clover, outlining the last women standing an original movie concept – protagonists by themselves to overcome.

These figures are somewhat masculine, on the silent side and she can survive thanks to resourcefulness,” the artist explains about such characters. No drug use occurs nor sexual activity. It is irrelevant the viewer’s gender, everyone can relate to the final girl.”

She draws a similarity between these characters with her creations – elements that barely maintaining position despite the pressures they’re under. So is her work more about societal collapse beyond merely leaky ceilings? Because like so many institutions, substances like silicone intended to secure and shield against harm in fact are decaying in our environment.

“Absolutely,” responds the artist.

Before finding inspiration in the silicone gun, she experimented with alternative odd mediums. Past displays have involved organic-looking pieces made from the kind of nylon fabric you might see within outdoor gear or apparel lining. Once more, there's the impression these strange items could come alive – a few are compressed as insects in motion, others lollop down off surfaces or extend through entries attracting dirt from footprints (Herfeldt encourages viewers to touch leaving marks on pieces). Similar to the foam artworks, these nylon creations also occupy – and breaking out of – inexpensive-seeming display enclosures. These are unattractive objects, which is intentional.

“These works possess a specific look that somehow you feel compelled by, yet simultaneously appearing gross,” she says amusedly. “The art aims for absent, however, it is highly noticeable.”

Herfeldt's goal isn't art to provide relaxation or aesthetically soothed. Conversely, she aims for uncomfortable, strange, maybe even amused. But if you start to feel something wet dripping from above as well, remember the alert was given.