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If you're planning bathroom renovations, you may want to avoid hiring Lisa Herfeldt for such tasks.

Truly, Herfeldt is highly skilled in handling foam materials, producing fascinating sculptures from this unlikely art material. But the more observe these pieces, the clearer you realise a certain aspect is a little strange.

Those hefty tubes of sealant she produces stretch past their supports supporting them, sagging downwards towards the floor. The knotty tubular forms bulge till they rupture. Some creations leave their transparent enclosures entirely, turning into an attractor of debris and fibers. Let's just say the feedback would not be pretty.

“I sometimes have an impression that things are alive in a room,” says the German artist. “That’s why I turned to silicone sealant due to its a distinctly physical texture and feeling.”

In fact there is an element somewhat grotesque regarding Herfeldt’s work, including the suggestive swelling jutting out, similar to a rupture, from the support in the centre of the gallery, or the gut-like spirals of foam that rupture resembling bodily failures. On one wall, the artist presents prints depicting the sculptures seen from various perspectives: resembling squirming organisms seen in scientific samples, or colonies on a petri-dish.

“It interests me that there are things within us taking place that also have their own life,” the artist notes. Elements which remain unseen or command.”

Regarding elements beyond her influence, the exhibition advertisement featured in the exhibition displays a photograph of water damage overhead within her workspace located in Berlin. It was made in the seventies and according to her, was instantly hated among the community because a lot of older edifices were removed in order to make way for it. The place was dilapidated when Herfeldt – who was born in Munich although she spent her youth in northern Germany prior to moving to the capital as a teenager – moved in.

This deteriorating space was frustrating to Herfeldt – she couldn’t hang her art works without concern potential harm – but it was also compelling. With no building plans on hand, nobody had a clue methods to address any of the issues that developed. When the ceiling panel at the artist's area was saturated enough it fell apart fully, the sole fix meant swapping the panel with a new one – and so the cycle continued.

At another site, Herfeldt says the leaking was so bad so multiple collection units got placed above the false roof to channel the water to a different sink.

I understood that this place resembled an organism, an entirely malfunctioning system,” Herfeldt states.

The situation evoked memories of Dark Star, John Carpenter’s debut movie from the seventies concerning a conscious ship that develops independence. And as you might notice given the naming – Alice, Laurie & Ripley – other cinematic works influenced to have influenced this exhibition. Those labels refer to the leading women in the slasher film, another scary movie and the extraterrestrial saga as listed. She mentions an academic paper from a scholar, that describes the last women standing a distinctive cinematic theme – female characters isolated to save the day.

These figures are somewhat masculine, on the silent side and she can survive due to intelligence,” says Herfeldt regarding this trope. They avoid substances or have sex. And it doesn’t matter the viewer’s gender, everyone can relate to this character.”

She draws a similarity linking these figures with her creations – elements that barely staying put amidst stress they’re under. Is the exhibition really concerning cultural decay rather than simply water damage? Similar to various systems, these materials meant to insulate and guard from deterioration in fact are decaying around us.

“Completely,” says Herfeldt.

Earlier in her career in the silicone gun, Herfeldt used different unconventional substances. Previous exhibitions featured tongue-like shapes crafted from the kind of nylon fabric you might see in insulated clothing or in coats. Again there is the feeling these peculiar objects might animate – some are concertinaed resembling moving larvae, some droop heavily on vertical planes blocking passages gathering grime from contact (Herfeldt encourages people to handle and dirty her art). As with earlier creations, those fabric pieces are similarly displayed in – leaving – budget-style acrylic glass boxes. They’re ugly looking things, and that's the essence.

“They have a particular style that draws viewers very attracted to, while also being quite repulsive,” she says grinning. “It tries to be invisible, yet in reality very present.”

Herfeldt's goal isn't work to make you feel comfortable or aesthetically soothed. Instead, she aims for discomfort, awkward, perhaps entertained. And if there's a moist sensation on your head too, don’t say the alert was given.