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If you're planning washroom remodeling, you may want not to choose employing this German artist for the job.

Truly, she's a whiz using sealant applicators, producing fascinating artworks from this unlikely medium. However the more observe these pieces, the clearer it becomes apparent that an element seems somewhat strange.

Those hefty tubes from the foam Herfeldt forms stretch over their supports on which they sit, hanging off the edges to the ground. The gnarled tubular forms bulge before bursting open. Some creations escape their transparent enclosures completely, turning into a magnet for dust and hair. One could imagine the feedback are unlikely to earn positive.

At times I get an impression that items are alive within a space,” says Herfeldt. Hence I turned to this foam material due to its a distinctly physical sensation and look.”

Indeed there’s something rather body horror about these sculptures, including the phallic bulge that protrudes, like a medical condition, off its base within the showspace, or the gut-like spirals of foam that burst as if in crisis. Displayed nearby, Herfeldt has framed prints showing the pieces seen from various perspectives: resembling microscopic invaders observed under magnification, or formations in a lab setting.

What captivates me is the idea within us occurring that also have independent existence,” Herfeldt explains. Phenomena that are invisible or control.”

Regarding unmanageable factors, the promotional image promoting the event features an image showing a dripping roof in her own studio located in Berlin. It was made in the seventies and according to her, was quickly despised by local people since many older edifices were removed to allow its construction. It was already run-down as the artist – who was born in Munich but grew up in northern Germany before arriving in Berlin as a teenager – took up residence.

The rundown building was frustrating for her work – placing artworks was difficult her pieces anxiously risk of ruin – however, it was intriguing. With no building plans on hand, it was unclear the way to fix any of the issues which occurred. Once an overhead section at the artist's area became so sodden it collapsed entirely, the only solution was to replace the panel with a new one – and so the cycle continued.

Elsewhere on the property, Herfeldt says dripping was extreme so multiple drainage containers were installed within the drop ceiling in order to redirect the water to a different sink.

I understood that the building resembled an organism, a totally dysfunctional body,” the artist comments.

This scenario brought to mind Dark Star, 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 – a trio of references – that’s not the only film shaping Herfeldt’s show. These titles point to the female protagonists in the slasher film, Halloween plus the sci-fi hit in that order. She mentions a critical analysis from a scholar, which identifies these “final girls” as a unique film trope – women left alone to overcome.

“She’s a bit tomboyish, on the silent side and they endure thanks to resourcefulness,” the artist explains about such characters. They avoid substances or have sex. And it doesn’t matter who is watching, everyone can relate to this character.”

Herfeldt sees a similarity from these protagonists and her sculptures – things that are just about holding in place despite the pressures they face. So is her work really concerning societal collapse rather than simply dripping roofs? Because like so many institutions, such components meant to insulate and guard us from damage are actually slowly eroding in our environment.

“Completely,” says Herfeldt.

Prior to discovering her medium in the silicone gun, the artist worked with different unconventional substances. Previous exhibitions included forms resembling tongues crafted from fabric similar to typical for within outdoor gear or apparel lining. Once more, there's the feeling such unusual creations seem lifelike – a few are compressed resembling moving larvae, others lollop down off surfaces blocking passages attracting dirt from footprints (Herfeldt encourages viewers to touch and dirty her art). Similar to the foam artworks, the textile works also occupy – leaving – cheap looking display enclosures. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, and really that’s the point.

“They have a certain aesthetic that draws viewers highly drawn to, and at the same time they’re very disgusting,” the artist comments amusedly. “It tries to be invisible, but it’s actually very present.”

Herfeldt is not making pieces that offer comfortable or aesthetically soothed. Instead, she aims for unease, strange, perhaps entertained. And if there's something wet dripping on your head additionally, consider yourself this was foreshadowed.