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When considering restroom upgrades, it's advisable to avoid engaging this German artist for such tasks.

Indeed, Herfeldt is a whiz with a silicone gun, creating intriguing creations from this unlikely substance. Yet longer you examine her creations, the stronger you realise a certain aspect seems somewhat strange.

Those hefty strands from the foam Herfeldt forms stretch past the shelves where they rest, hanging downwards towards the floor. Those twisted tubular forms swell until they split. Some creations escape the display cases completely, turning into an attractor of debris and fibers. It's safe to say the reviews would not be positive.

“I sometimes have the feeling that objects are alive in a room,” states Herfeldt. This is why I turned to this foam material as it offers this very bodily sensation and look.”

In fact there’s something almost visceral about these sculptures, starting with the suggestive swelling jutting out, similar to a rupture, from the support in the centre of the gallery, to the intestinal coils made of silicone which split open resembling bodily failures. On one wall, are mounted images of the works viewed from different angles: resembling wormy parasites seen in scientific samples, or growths on culture plates.

I am fascinated by that there are things in our bodies happening which possess independent existence,” she says. Phenomena that are invisible or manage.”

On the subject of unmanageable factors, the exhibition advertisement promoting the event displays a photograph of water damage overhead within her workspace located in Berlin. It was made in the seventies as she explains, faced immediate dislike by local people because a lot of older edifices were removed to allow its construction. By the time in a state of disrepair upon her – who was born in Munich yet raised north of Hamburg before arriving in Berlin during her teens – took up residence.

This decrepit property proved challenging for the artist – placing artworks was difficult her art works anxiously risk of ruin – but it was also fascinating. Lacking architectural drawings on hand, nobody had a clue how to repair the malfunctions that developed. When the ceiling panel within her workspace became so sodden it fell apart fully, the sole fix involved installing it with another – thus repeating the process.

Elsewhere on the property, the artist explains dripping was extreme that a series of shower basins got placed above the false roof to channel leaks to another outlet.

“I realised that the building was like a body, a completely flawed entity,” Herfeldt states.

These conditions evoked memories of a classic film, the director's first movie from the seventies concerning a conscious ship which becomes autonomous. And as you might notice from the show’s title – a trio of references – that’s not the only film shaping the artist's presentation. These titles refer to main characters in the slasher film, the iconic thriller plus the sci-fi hit respectively. Herfeldt cites a 1987 essay by the American professor, which identifies these surviving characters a distinctive cinematic theme – female characters isolated to triumph.

“She’s a bit tomboyish, rather quiet and she can survive thanks to resourcefulness,” says Herfeldt of the archetypal final girl. They avoid substances nor sexual activity. Regardless the viewer’s gender, everyone can relate to the final girl.”

The artist identifies a parallel between these characters to her artworks – objects which only maintaining position despite the pressures they face. Does this mean the art focused on cultural decay beyond merely dripping roofs? Because like so many institutions, such components meant to insulate and guard against harm in fact are decaying within society.

“Absolutely,” says Herfeldt.

Before finding inspiration using foam materials, Herfeldt used other unusual materials. Past displays have involved tongue-like shapes made from a synthetic material found in within outdoor gear or apparel lining. Once more, there's the sense these peculiar objects might animate – certain pieces are folded as insects in motion, some droop heavily off surfaces or spill across doorways gathering grime from contact (She prompts viewers to touch and soil the works). Similar to the foam artworks, those fabric pieces are similarly displayed in – and escaping from – cheap looking display enclosures. They’re ugly looking things, and really that’s the point.

“They have a particular style that somehow you feel compelled by, yet simultaneously appearing gross,” Herfeldt remarks with a smile. “It attempts to seem not there, yet in reality highly noticeable.”

Herfeldt is not making pieces that offer relaxation or beauty. Rather, her intention is to evoke uncomfortable, strange, or even humor. However, should you notice water droplets on your head too, don’t say this was foreshadowed.