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If you're planning bathroom renovations, you may want not to choose engaging this German artist to handle it.

Certainly, she's highly skilled in handling foam materials, producing intriguing artworks from this unlikely medium. But longer you observe these pieces, the more it becomes apparent a certain aspect seems somewhat strange.

Those hefty tubes of sealant she produces reach beyond the shelves where they rest, hanging downwards towards the floor. Those twisted silicone strands expand before bursting open. A few artworks leave the display cases completely, evolving into an attractor of debris and fibers. It's safe to say the reviews would not be favorable.

“I sometimes have an impression that things seem animated within a space,” remarks the sculptor. This is why I came to use silicone sealant due to its a distinctly physical sensation and look.”

Certainly there is an element somewhat grotesque regarding Herfeldt’s work, from that protruding shape which extends, like a medical condition, from its cylindrical stand at the exhibition's heart, or the gut-like spirals from the material that rupture resembling bodily failures. On one wall, the artist presents prints of the works viewed from different angles: resembling squirming organisms observed under magnification, or growths on a petri-dish.

I am fascinated by that there are things in our bodies occurring that seem to hold their own life,” Herfeldt explains. “Things that are invisible or command.”

Talking of things she can’t control, the poster featured in the exhibition features a picture of the leaky ceiling within her workspace in the German capital. The building had been erected decades ago and according to her, was quickly despised by local people because a lot of old buildings were removed to allow its construction. It was already in a state of disrepair as the artist – a native of that city yet raised north of Hamburg before arriving in Berlin in her youth – moved in.

The rundown building proved challenging for the artist – it was risky to display her art works without concern risk of ruin – yet it also proved fascinating. With no building plans available, it was unclear methods to address any of the issues that arose. When the ceiling panel in Herfeldt’s studio was saturated enough it fell apart fully, the only solution involved installing the damaged part – thus repeating the process.

In a different area, the artist explains the water intrusion was severe that a series of drainage containers got placed within the drop ceiling in order to redirect the moisture elsewhere.

“I realised that the building was like a body, a completely flawed entity,” Herfeldt states.

These conditions reminded her of a classic film, 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 from the show’s title – three distinct names – other cinematic works influenced shaping the artist's presentation. The three names indicate main characters in Friday 13th, the iconic thriller plus the sci-fi hit in that order. Herfeldt cites an academic paper written by Carol J Clover, that describes these “final girls” a distinctive cinematic theme – female characters isolated to triumph.

They often display toughness, rather quiet and she can survive due to intelligence,” says Herfeldt regarding this trope. They avoid substances nor sexual activity. It is irrelevant the audience's identity, everyone can relate to the survivor.”

Herfeldt sees a similarity between these characters and her sculptures – things that are just about maintaining position under strain they face. So is her work focused on cultural decay than just leaky ceilings? Similar to various systems, substances like silicone meant to insulate and guard from deterioration in fact are decaying within society.

“Oh, totally,” she confirms.

Prior to discovering her medium with sealant applicators, the artist worked with alternative odd mediums. Previous exhibitions have involved tongue-like shapes using fabric similar to found in in insulated clothing or apparel lining. Similarly, one finds the feeling these peculiar objects seem lifelike – a few are compressed resembling moving larvae, pieces hang loosely from walls blocking passages collecting debris from touch (Herfeldt encourages viewers to touch and soil the works). Similar to the foam artworks, the textile works also occupy – leaving – budget-style acrylic glass boxes. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, and that's the essence.

“These works possess a specific look which makes one compelled by, yet simultaneously being quite repulsive,” she says grinning. “The art aims for absent, however, it is very present.”

The artist does not create pieces that offer ease or aesthetically soothed. Conversely, she aims for discomfort, awkward, perhaps entertained. But if you start to feel something wet dripping from above as well, consider yourself you haven’t been warned.