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When considering restroom upgrades, it might be wise not to choose engaging this German artist for the job.

Certainly, she's a whiz with a silicone gun, creating intriguing artworks with a surprising medium. However longer you examine these pieces, the more it becomes apparent that an element is a little strange.

Those hefty tubes made of silicone she produces stretch past display surfaces supporting them, sagging downwards to the ground. The knotty silicone strands swell until they split. A few artworks break free from their transparent enclosures fully, becoming a collector of debris and fibers. One could imagine the reviews are unlikely to earn positive.

“I sometimes have this sense that items seem animated inside an area,” remarks Herfeldt. “That’s why I came to use this foam material as it offers a distinctly physical sensation and look.”

Indeed there is an element rather body horror regarding these sculptures, from the suggestive swelling jutting out, similar to a rupture, from the support within the showspace, or the gut-like spirals from the material which split open resembling bodily failures. Along a surface, the artist presents images depicting the sculptures seen from various perspectives: resembling microscopic invaders picked up on a microscope, or growths on culture plates.

I am fascinated by is the idea within us occurring which possess independent existence,” Herfeldt explains. Phenomena which remain unseen or command.”

Talking of unmanageable factors, the promotional image for the show displays a photograph showing a dripping roof in her own studio located in Berlin. The building had been erected decades ago and, she says, was quickly despised from residents because a lot of historic structures were removed to allow its construction. By the time in a state of disrepair upon her – originally from Munich although she spent her youth north of Hamburg prior to moving to the capital in her youth – moved in.

The rundown building was frustrating to Herfeldt – she couldn’t hang the sculptures without concern they might be damaged – however, it was fascinating. Without any blueprints available, nobody had a clue how to repair the problems that arose. After a part of the roof in Herfeldt’s studio became so sodden it fell apart fully, the sole fix was to replace it with another – perpetuating the issue.

At another site, Herfeldt says the water intrusion was severe that a series of drainage containers were set up within the drop ceiling in order to redirect the moisture elsewhere.

I understood that the building acted as a physical form, a completely flawed entity,” the artist comments.

This scenario reminded her of Dark Star, the director's first movie from the seventies concerning a conscious ship which becomes autonomous. And as you might notice from the show’s title – three distinct names – that’s not the only film impacting the artist's presentation. The three names refer to the female protagonists from a horror classic, Halloween plus the sci-fi hit in that order. She mentions a critical analysis by the American professor, that describes these surviving characters a distinctive cinematic theme – protagonists by themselves to save the day.

These figures are somewhat masculine, rather quiet and she can survive thanks to resourcefulness,” the artist explains regarding this trope. No drug use occurs or have sex. And it doesn’t matter who is watching, we can all identify with the survivor.”

Herfeldt sees a connection from these protagonists to her artworks – objects which only holding in place under strain affecting them. So is her work more about social breakdown than just leaky ceilings? Because like so many institutions, substances like silicone intended to secure and shield us from damage are actually slowly eroding within society.

“Oh, totally,” responds the artist.

Prior to discovering her medium using foam materials, Herfeldt used other unusual materials. Previous exhibitions featured tongue-like shapes crafted from the kind of nylon fabric typical for within outdoor gear or apparel lining. Similarly, one finds the sense these peculiar objects seem lifelike – some are concertinaed as insects in motion, others lollop down from walls or spill across doorways gathering grime from contact (Herfeldt encourages viewers to touch and dirty her art). Similar to the foam artworks, those fabric pieces are also housed in – leaving – budget-style acrylic glass boxes. These are unattractive objects, which is intentional.

“These works possess a certain aesthetic which makes one highly drawn to, yet simultaneously appearing gross,” she says with a smile. “It tries to be invisible, yet in reality very present.”

Herfeldt is not making work to make you feel relaxation or aesthetically soothed. Conversely, she aims for unease, strange, or even humor. But if you start to feel water droplets from above as well, remember you haven’t been warned.