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Should you be thinking about restroom upgrades, you may want not to choose employing Lisa Herfeldt to handle it.

Truly, she's highly skilled in handling foam materials, crafting fascinating creations with a surprising art material. But longer you examine the artworks, the stronger you realise that an element seems somewhat unnerving.

The thick tubes made of silicone she produces reach past their supports on which they sit, hanging off the edges below. Those twisted silicone strands swell before bursting open. Certain pieces leave their acrylic glass box homes fully, turning into an attractor for grime and particles. One could imagine the reviews would not be positive.

At times I get an impression that items seem animated inside an area,” remarks the German artist. “That’s why I came to use silicone sealant because it has a distinctly physical feel and appearance.”

Certainly one can detect almost visceral in Herfeldt’s work, from that protruding shape that protrudes, like a medical condition, off its base at the exhibition's heart, or the gut-like spirals of foam which split open as if in crisis. On one wall, Herfeldt has framed photocopies depicting the sculptures captured in multiple views: they look like wormy parasites picked up on a microscope, or growths on a petri-dish.

What captivates me is how certain elements within us occurring that also have a life of their own,” she says. Phenomena you can’t see or control.”

Talking of things she can’t control, the promotional image promoting the event includes an image showing a dripping roof in her own studio located in Berlin. Constructed made in the seventies as she explains, was quickly despised among the community since many older edifices got demolished for its development. By the time run-down when Herfeldt – originally from Munich but grew up near Hamburg then relocating to Berlin as a teenager – began using the space.

The rundown building proved challenging for her work – placing artworks was difficult her pieces anxiously potential harm – yet it also proved intriguing. Without any blueprints available, it was unclear how to repair the problems that arose. When the ceiling panel in Herfeldt’s studio was saturated enough it gave way completely, the only solution was to replace it with another – perpetuating the issue.

In a different area, Herfeldt says the leaking was so bad so multiple shower basins were set up above the false roof in order to redirect the water to a different sink.

“I realised that this place was like a body, an entirely malfunctioning system,” the artist comments.

These conditions evoked memories of a classic film, the initial work cinematic piece featuring a smart spaceship that takes on a life of its own. Additionally, observers may note given the naming – three distinct names – that’s not the only film to have influenced the artist's presentation. These titles point to the leading women in Friday 13th, the iconic thriller and the extraterrestrial saga as listed. The artist references a critical analysis by the American professor, that describes these “final girls” as a unique film trope – protagonists by themselves to save the day.

These figures are somewhat masculine, reserved in nature and she can survive because she’s quite clever,” the artist explains about such characters. “They don’t take drugs or have sex. It is irrelevant the audience's identity, all empathize with the survivor.”

The artist identifies a parallel from these protagonists to her artworks – elements that barely holding in place despite the pressures affecting them. Does this mean the art focused on cultural decay rather than simply dripping roofs? Similar to various systems, such components meant to insulate and guard from deterioration are gradually failing within society.

“Completely,” she confirms.

Before finding inspiration using foam materials, she experimented with other unusual materials. Recent shows have involved organic-looking pieces using the kind of nylon fabric typical for within outdoor gear or apparel lining. Once more, there's the impression such unusual creations could come alive – certain pieces are folded resembling moving larvae, some droop heavily from walls or extend through entries gathering grime from contact (The artist invites audiences to interact and soil the works). As with earlier creations, these nylon creations also occupy – leaving – cheap looking display enclosures. These are unattractive objects, which is intentional.

“The sculptures exhibit a certain aesthetic that draws viewers compelled by, while also appearing gross,” Herfeldt remarks grinning. “It tries to be invisible, yet in reality extremely obvious.”

The artist does not create pieces that offer relaxation or visual calm. Rather, her intention is to evoke uncomfortable, awkward, perhaps entertained. And if there's water droplets overhead as well, don’t say this was foreshadowed.