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When considering bathroom renovations, it's advisable not to choose employing Lisa Herfeldt to handle it.

Indeed, she's highly skilled using sealant applicators, producing compelling sculptures out of an unusual medium. But the more examine her creations, the clearer one notices a certain aspect seems somewhat off.

The dense lengths of sealant she crafts stretch beyond the shelves where they rest, drooping downwards to the ground. The knotty tubular forms expand before bursting open. Certain pieces escape their acrylic glass box homes entirely, evolving into an attractor of debris and fibers. Let's just say the ratings would not be positive.

“I sometimes have the feeling that objects possess life inside an area,” states Herfeldt. This is why I turned to this foam material due to its such an organic feel and appearance.”

In fact one can detect somewhat grotesque about Herfeldt’s work, including that protruding shape jutting out, similar to a rupture, off its base at the exhibition's heart, to the intestinal coils made of silicone which split open like medical emergencies. Along a surface, Herfeldt has framed photocopies depicting the sculptures captured in multiple views: they look like wormy parasites picked up on a microscope, or growths in a lab setting.

“It interests me is how certain elements within us occurring that also have a life of their own,” Herfeldt explains. Phenomena you can’t see or manage.”

Regarding elements beyond her influence, the poster featured in the exhibition features an image of water damage overhead at her creative space in Kreuzberg, Berlin. The building had been erected decades ago and according to her, faced immediate dislike by local people since many historic structures were torn down to allow its construction. It was already run-down when Herfeldt – a native of that city although she spent her youth in northern Germany prior to moving to the capital in her youth – began using the space.

The rundown building caused issues for the artist – it was risky to display her pieces without concern they might be damaged – but it was also compelling. Lacking architectural drawings on hand, nobody had a clue how to repair the malfunctions which occurred. Once an overhead section in Herfeldt’s studio was saturated enough it gave way completely, the single remedy involved installing the panel with a new one – thus repeating the process.

In a different area, Herfeldt says the leaking was so bad that several shower basins were set up in the suspended ceiling to divert the moisture elsewhere.

I understood that the building was like a body, an entirely malfunctioning system,” Herfeldt states.

These conditions evoked memories of a classic film, the director's first 1974 film featuring a smart spaceship which becomes autonomous. Additionally, observers may note from the show’s title – a trio of references – more movies have inspired shaping this exhibition. Those labels point to the leading women from a horror classic, the iconic thriller and Alien in that order. Herfeldt cites an academic paper by the American professor, which identifies these surviving characters as a unique film trope – protagonists by themselves to overcome.

They often display toughness, on the silent side and she can survive due to intelligence,” says Herfeldt of the archetypal final girl. “They don’t take drugs nor sexual activity. It is irrelevant the viewer’s gender, all empathize with the survivor.”

Herfeldt sees a connection between these characters and her sculptures – things that are just about maintaining position despite the pressures they’re under. Is the exhibition really concerning cultural decay rather than simply leaky ceilings? Similar to various systems, these materials that should seal and protect us from damage are actually slowly eroding in our environment.

“Completely,” she confirms.

Earlier in her career in the silicone gun, she experimented with other unusual materials. Past displays featured forms resembling tongues crafted from fabric similar to typical for within outdoor gear or in coats. Once more, there's the feeling these strange items seem lifelike – certain pieces are folded as insects in motion, others lollop down from walls blocking passages gathering grime from contact (The artist invites people to handle and dirty her art). Like the silicone sculptures, these nylon creations are similarly displayed in – and escaping from – cheap looking transparent cases. They’re ugly looking things, and really that’s the point.

“The sculptures exhibit a particular style that somehow you feel very attracted to, yet simultaneously being quite repulsive,” Herfeldt remarks with a smile. “The art aims for absent, but it’s actually extremely obvious.”

Herfeldt is not making art to provide ease or aesthetically soothed. Rather, her intention is to evoke uncomfortable, awkward, or even humor. However, should you notice a moist sensation overhead additionally, consider yourself the alert was given.