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Should you be thinking about washroom remodeling, it's advisable to steer clear of hiring this German artist for the job.

Truly, Herfeldt is an expert in handling foam materials, crafting fascinating artworks out of an unusual medium. Yet longer you look at these pieces, the more one notices that something feels slightly strange.

Those hefty lengths of sealant she produces reach over the shelves supporting them, drooping off the edges towards the floor. Those twisted silicone strands expand before bursting open. Some creations leave their transparent enclosures completely, becoming a magnet for grime and particles. It's safe to say the feedback are unlikely to earn favorable.

At times I get an impression that items are alive in a room,” says the German artist. This is why I started using this foam material as it offers this very bodily feel and appearance.”

In fact there’s something rather body horror regarding these sculptures, including the phallic bulge that protrudes, like a medical condition, off its base in the centre of the gallery, to the intestinal coils of foam that burst as if in crisis. On one wall, are mounted photocopies of the works seen from various perspectives: they look like wormy parasites observed under magnification, or colonies on a petri-dish.

What captivates me is how certain elements in our bodies taking place that seem to hold a life of their own,” the artist notes. Elements that are invisible or manage.”

Talking of elements beyond her influence, the promotional image for the show displays a picture of the leaky ceiling at her creative space located in Berlin. The building had been erected decades ago and, she says, was quickly despised from residents because a lot of old buildings got demolished for its development. The place was run-down upon her – originally from Munich but grew up near Hamburg prior to moving to the capital in her youth – began using the space.

This decrepit property was frustrating for the artist – it was risky to display her pieces anxiously risk of ruin – but it was also compelling. With no building plans on hand, it was unclear the way to fix the malfunctions which occurred. When the ceiling panel within her workspace got thoroughly soaked it fell apart fully, the only solution meant swapping it with another – perpetuating the issue.

In a different area, she describes the water intrusion was severe so multiple collection units were set up above the false roof to channel the water to a different sink.

It dawned on me that the building was like a body, an entirely malfunctioning system,” she says.

This scenario brought to mind a classic film, the director's first cinematic piece about an AI-powered spacecraft which becomes autonomous. Additionally, observers may note through the heading – three distinct names – more movies have inspired shaping the artist's presentation. Those labels point to main characters in the slasher film, Halloween plus the sci-fi hit in that order. Herfeldt cites an academic paper written by Carol J Clover, that describes these “final girls” as a unique film trope – protagonists by themselves to save the day.

“She’s a bit tomboyish, on the silent side and she can survive thanks to resourcefulness,” she elaborates about such characters. “They don’t take drugs or engage intimately. It is irrelevant the viewer’s gender, we can all identify with this character.”

Herfeldt sees a connection linking these figures to her artworks – things that are just about holding in place despite the pressures affecting them. So is her work focused on cultural decay than just water damage? Because like so many institutions, such components meant to insulate and guard us from damage are gradually failing in our environment.

“Completely,” responds the artist.

Before finding inspiration with sealant applicators, she experimented with alternative odd mediums. Past displays have involved forms resembling tongues made from a synthetic material found in in insulated clothing or in coats. Again there is the impression these peculiar objects seem lifelike – some are concertinaed as insects in motion, pieces hang loosely off surfaces or spill across doorways collecting debris from touch (Herfeldt encourages viewers to touch and dirty her art). Similar to the foam artworks, the textile works are similarly displayed in – leaving – cheap looking transparent cases. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, and really that’s the point.

“They have a specific look that somehow you feel compelled by, and at the same time being quite repulsive,” Herfeldt remarks with a smile. “It attempts to seem absent, however, it is highly noticeable.”

Herfeldt is not making pieces that offer ease or beauty. Rather, she wants you to feel discomfort, strange, or even humor. But if you start to feel water droplets on your head too, remember the alert was given.