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Should you be thinking about bathroom renovations, it might be wise to avoid hiring Lisa Herfeldt for such tasks.

Indeed, Herfeldt is a whiz in handling foam materials, creating fascinating sculptures out of an unusual art material. Yet as you examine her creations, the more it becomes apparent that an element feels slightly unnerving.

The dense strands of sealant she produces reach beyond their supports on which they sit, drooping off the edges below. The knotty foam pipes swell till they rupture. A few artworks leave the display cases entirely, becoming an attractor of debris and fibers. Let's just say the ratings are unlikely to earn favorable.

“I sometimes have the feeling that objects possess life inside an area,” says the sculptor. Hence I turned to this substance because it has this very bodily feel and appearance.”

Certainly there’s something rather body horror in these sculptures, including that protruding shape that protrudes, similar to a rupture, from its cylindrical stand within the showspace, and the winding tubes made of silicone that burst like medical emergencies. Along a surface, the artist presents images depicting the sculptures viewed from different angles: they look like squirming organisms picked up on a microscope, or formations in a lab setting.

“It interests me is the idea within us occurring which possess their own life,” Herfeldt explains. Phenomena which remain unseen or manage.”

Regarding unmanageable factors, the poster promoting the event features a picture of the leaky ceiling in her own studio in Kreuzberg, Berlin. The building had been erected decades ago as she explains, was instantly hated from residents because a lot of old buildings were removed for its development. It was already dilapidated as the artist – originally from Munich yet raised north of Hamburg prior to moving to the capital during her teens – began using the space.

This decrepit property proved challenging to Herfeldt – it was risky to display her pieces without fearing they might be damaged – however, it was intriguing. Lacking architectural drawings accessible, no one knew methods to address any of the issues that developed. When the ceiling panel within her workspace became so sodden it collapsed entirely, the single remedy was to replace it with another – perpetuating the issue.

In a different area, Herfeldt says the leaking was so bad that several collection units were set up above the false roof in order to redirect leaks to another outlet.

It dawned on me that this place acted as a physical form, a completely flawed entity,” she says.

This scenario brought to mind Dark Star, the director's first movie from the seventies concerning a conscious ship which becomes autonomous. As the exhibition's title suggests through the heading – three distinct names – more movies have inspired impacting Herfeldt’s show. Those labels refer to the female protagonists from a horror classic, another scary movie and Alien as listed. She mentions an academic paper from a scholar, outlining these surviving characters a distinctive cinematic theme – female characters isolated to overcome.

They often display toughness, on the silent side and she can survive because she’s quite clever,” she elaborates about such characters. No drug use occurs nor sexual activity. It is irrelevant the audience's identity, all empathize with the survivor.”

She draws a similarity between these characters to her artworks – things that are just about maintaining position despite the pressures affecting them. Is the exhibition really concerning social breakdown than just water damage? Because like so many institutions, substances like silicone intended to secure and shield against harm in fact are decaying around us.

“Absolutely,” responds the artist.

Prior to discovering her medium with sealant applicators, she experimented with other unusual materials. Previous exhibitions featured tongue-like shapes using fabric similar to typical for within outdoor gear or in coats. Similarly, one finds the sense these peculiar objects seem lifelike – certain pieces are folded like caterpillars mid-crawl, some droop heavily on vertical planes blocking passages gathering grime from contact (Herfeldt encourages viewers to touch and dirty her art). Like the silicone sculptures, these nylon creations also occupy – leaving – budget-style acrylic glass boxes. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, and really that’s the point.

“These works possess a particular style which makes one compelled by, and at the same time being quite repulsive,” Herfeldt remarks grinning. “It tries to be absent, yet in reality highly noticeable.”

Herfeldt is not making work to make you feel ease or aesthetically soothed. Rather, her intention is to evoke unease, odd, perhaps entertained. And if there's something wet dripping from above too, don’t say the alert was given.