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Should you be thinking about bathroom renovations, you may want to steer clear of hiring Lisa Herfeldt for such tasks.

Indeed, Herfeldt is highly skilled using sealant applicators, creating compelling artworks with a surprising substance. However the more look at these pieces, the more one notices that an element feels slightly unnerving.

The thick tubes of sealant she crafts reach over the shelves on which they sit, drooping over the sides to the ground. Those twisted foam pipes expand until they split. Certain pieces break free from the display cases completely, evolving into an attractor for dust and hair. Let's just say the ratings might not get favorable.

“I sometimes have an impression that objects possess life inside an area,” says the German artist. This is why I came to use silicone sealant due to its a distinctly physical feel and appearance.”

Certainly there’s something somewhat grotesque about these sculptures, including the phallic bulge jutting out, similar to a rupture, off its base at the exhibition's heart, or the gut-like spirals from the material that burst like medical emergencies. On one wall, are mounted photocopies showing the pieces captured in multiple views: appearing as squirming organisms observed under magnification, or colonies on a petri-dish.

What captivates me is the idea inside human forms occurring that seem to hold a life of their own,” the artist notes. “Things that are invisible or manage.”

On the subject of unmanageable factors, the promotional image featured in the exhibition includes a photograph of the leaky ceiling within her workspace located in Berlin. The building had been built in the early 1970s and according to her, was instantly hated among the community because a lot of older edifices got demolished in order to make way for it. The place was run-down upon her – who was born in Munich yet raised north of Hamburg prior to moving to the capital as a teenager – began using the space.

This decrepit property caused issues for the artist – she couldn’t hang the sculptures without concern risk of ruin – however, it was intriguing. Lacking architectural drawings on hand, nobody had a clue how to repair the malfunctions that arose. When the ceiling panel at the artist's area got thoroughly soaked it fell apart fully, the single remedy meant swapping it with another – and so the cycle continued.

In a different area, the artist explains the leaking was so bad that several drainage containers were installed in the suspended ceiling to divert the moisture elsewhere.

I understood that this place resembled an organism, a completely flawed entity,” the artist comments.

This scenario evoked memories of Dark Star, John Carpenter’s debut cinematic piece concerning a conscious ship which becomes autonomous. And as you might notice from the show’s title – Alice, Laurie & Ripley – more movies have inspired shaping this exhibition. Those labels point to the female protagonists from a horror classic, another scary movie and Alien as listed. She mentions a 1987 essay by the American professor, that describes these “final girls” a distinctive cinematic theme – protagonists by themselves to overcome.

They often display toughness, reserved in nature enabling their survival because she’s quite clever,” the artist explains of the archetypal final girl. No drug use occurs nor sexual activity. And it doesn’t matter who is watching, we can all identify with the final girl.”

Herfeldt sees a parallel from these protagonists with her creations – objects which only holding in place under strain they’re under. Is the exhibition more about cultural decay than just water damage? As with many structures, such components meant to insulate and guard from deterioration in fact are decaying within society.

“Completely,” says Herfeldt.

Prior to discovering her medium using foam materials, Herfeldt used different unconventional substances. Previous exhibitions included tongue-like shapes crafted from the kind of nylon fabric you might see in insulated clothing or in coats. Once more, there's the feeling these peculiar objects might animate – a few are compressed like caterpillars mid-crawl, others lollop down on vertical planes or extend through entries collecting debris from touch (She prompts audiences to interact and dirty her art). Similar to the foam artworks, these nylon creations are also housed in – and escaping from – cheap looking transparent cases. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, and that's the essence.

“These works possess a certain aesthetic that draws viewers highly drawn to, yet simultaneously they’re very disgusting,” she says grinning. “It attempts to seem absent, however, it is extremely obvious.”

The artist does not create art to provide comfortable or beauty. Rather, she aims for discomfort, odd, or even humor. But if you start to feel something wet dripping overhead additionally, don’t say you haven’t been warned.