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If you're planning washroom remodeling, it's advisable to steer clear of employing Lisa Herfeldt for the job.

Indeed, she's an expert with a silicone gun, producing compelling sculptures from this unlikely medium. Yet as you examine the artworks, the stronger you realise that something seems somewhat off.

The dense strands made of silicone she produces extend beyond the shelves where they rest, hanging off the edges below. Those twisted foam pipes swell before bursting open. Certain pieces leave the display cases fully, turning into a collector for grime and particles. One could imagine the reviews are unlikely to earn pretty.

There are moments I feel an impression that objects possess life in a room,” remarks the German artist. This is why I started using this substance due to its this very bodily texture and feeling.”

In fact one can detect somewhat grotesque in these sculptures, starting with that protruding shape which extends, hernia-like, off its base within the showspace, or the gut-like spirals of foam which split open like medical emergencies. Along a surface, Herfeldt has framed images showing the pieces seen from various perspectives: they look like microscopic invaders observed under magnification, or formations on a petri-dish.

“It interests me that there are things inside human forms taking place that seem to hold independent existence,” Herfeldt explains. Elements that are invisible or control.”

Talking of things she can’t control, the poster featured in the exhibition displays a picture showing a dripping roof within her workspace in the German capital. It was built in the early 1970s and according to her, was instantly hated from residents as numerous historic structures got demolished in order to make way for it. The place was in a state of disrepair upon her – who was born in Munich although she spent her youth in northern Germany then relocating to Berlin during her teens – moved in.

The rundown building was frustrating for the artist – placing artworks was difficult her pieces without concern potential harm – however, it was intriguing. With no building plans available, it was unclear methods to address any of the issues which occurred. When the ceiling panel at the artist's area was saturated enough it gave way completely, the single remedy was to replace the damaged part – perpetuating the issue.

At another site, she describes the water intrusion was severe that several shower basins were set up in the suspended ceiling to divert the moisture elsewhere.

“I realised that this place was like a body, an entirely malfunctioning system,” Herfeldt states.

This scenario evoked memories of a classic film, the initial work 1974 film featuring a smart spaceship which becomes autonomous. Additionally, observers may note through the heading – three distinct names – more movies have inspired shaping this exhibition. The three names point to the leading women in Friday 13th, the iconic thriller plus the sci-fi hit as listed. Herfeldt cites a critical analysis by the American professor, which identifies the last women standing a distinctive cinematic theme – women left alone to triumph.

These figures are somewhat masculine, rather quiet enabling their survival because she’s quite clever,” she elaborates regarding this trope. They avoid substances or engage intimately. And it doesn’t matter the audience's identity, everyone can relate to the final girl.”

Herfeldt sees a connection between these characters with her creations – things that are just about holding in place under strain they face. Does this mean the art focused on cultural decay beyond merely leaky ceilings? As with many structures, substances like silicone meant to insulate and guard from deterioration in fact are decaying in our environment.

“Absolutely,” she confirms.

Prior to discovering her medium with sealant applicators, she experimented with other unusual materials. Recent shows have involved tongue-like shapes using fabric similar to typical for on a sleeping bag or inside a jacket. Similarly, one finds the feeling these strange items might animate – a few are compressed as insects in motion, some droop heavily on vertical planes or spill across doorways collecting debris from touch (She prompts people to handle and soil the works). Similar to the foam artworks, these nylon creations are also housed in – leaving – budget-style acrylic glass boxes. These are unattractive objects, which is intentional.

“They have a certain aesthetic which makes one highly drawn to, yet simultaneously they’re very disgusting,” the artist comments grinning. “It attempts to seem not there, however, it is very present.”

The artist does not create pieces that offer relaxation or aesthetically soothed. Conversely, she wants you to feel unease, strange, perhaps entertained. And if there's something wet dripping overhead as well, remember you haven’t been warned.