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If you're planning restroom upgrades, you may want to steer clear of employing the sculptor for the job.

Indeed, Herfeldt is a whiz using sealant applicators, creating intriguing sculptures from this unlikely substance. However as you examine her creations, the clearer you realise that an element feels slightly unnerving.

Those hefty tubes from the foam Herfeldt forms stretch over their supports on which they sit, hanging over the sides below. Those twisted tubular forms expand before bursting open. A few artworks break free from their acrylic glass box homes fully, turning into a magnet of debris and fibers. It's safe to say the ratings might not get positive.

At times I get this sense that items seem animated within a space,” remarks the German artist. Hence I turned to silicone sealant due to its such an organic texture and feeling.”

In fact there’s something rather body horror about the artist's creations, starting with that protruding shape jutting out, similar to a rupture, from its cylindrical stand in the centre of the gallery, or the gut-like spirals made of silicone that burst resembling bodily failures. Along a surface, the artist presents prints showing the pieces captured in multiple views: resembling microscopic invaders seen in scientific samples, or colonies on a petri-dish.

I am fascinated by is how certain elements in our bodies happening that seem to hold a life of their own,” Herfeldt explains. Phenomena which remain unseen or control.”

Talking of things she can’t control, the exhibition advertisement promoting the event displays an image showing a dripping roof at her creative space in Kreuzberg, Berlin. It was built in the early 1970s and according to her, faced immediate dislike by local people because a lot of old buildings were removed in order to make way for it. It was already in a state of disrepair when Herfeldt – a native of that city but grew up near Hamburg before arriving in Berlin during her teens – began using the space.

This decrepit property was frustrating to Herfeldt – she couldn’t hang the sculptures without fearing they might be damaged – but it was also fascinating. Lacking architectural drawings available, it was unclear methods to address any of the issues which occurred. When the ceiling panel at the artist's area became so sodden it fell apart fully, the only solution meant swapping the damaged part – thus repeating the process.

Elsewhere on the property, the artist explains the water intrusion was severe that a series of drainage containers got placed in the suspended ceiling to divert leaks to another outlet.

It dawned on me that the structure was like a body, a totally dysfunctional body,” Herfeldt states.

These conditions evoked memories of the sci-fi movie, the director's first movie from the seventies featuring a smart spaceship that takes on a life of its own. And as you might notice given the naming – Alice, Laurie & Ripley – other cinematic works influenced impacting Herfeldt’s show. These titles refer to the female protagonists in the slasher film, Halloween plus the sci-fi hit respectively. The artist references a 1987 essay written by Carol J Clover, outlining these “final girls” a distinctive cinematic theme – protagonists by themselves to triumph.

These figures are somewhat masculine, rather quiet and she can survive because she’s quite clever,” she elaborates of the archetypal final girl. “They don’t take drugs nor sexual activity. It is irrelevant the audience's identity, all empathize with this character.”

Herfeldt sees 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 cultural decay beyond merely water damage? Similar to various systems, these materials meant to insulate and guard us from damage are gradually failing within society.

“Oh, totally,” responds the artist.

Earlier in her career with sealant applicators, she experimented with alternative odd mediums. Previous exhibitions featured organic-looking pieces made from the kind of nylon fabric you might see in insulated clothing or inside a jacket. Once more, there's the sense these peculiar objects could come alive – certain pieces are folded resembling moving larvae, others lollop down from walls or extend through entries attracting dirt from footprints (Herfeldt encourages people to handle and dirty her art). Similar to the foam artworks, those fabric pieces are also housed in – and breaking out of – inexpensive-seeming acrylic glass boxes. These are unattractive objects, and that's the essence.

“They have a particular style that somehow you feel very attracted to, and at the same time appearing gross,” the artist comments with a smile. “It tries to be absent, but it’s actually highly noticeable.”

Herfeldt's goal isn't pieces that offer relaxation or aesthetically soothed. Rather, she wants you to feel uncomfortable, awkward, perhaps entertained. And if there's water droplets overhead too, consider yourself this was foreshadowed.