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When considering restroom upgrades, it might be wise to avoid hiring the sculptor for the job.

Truly, Herfeldt is highly skilled with a silicone gun, creating compelling creations from this unlikely substance. But as you observe the artworks, the clearer you realise that an element is a little off.

Those hefty tubes made of silicone she produces stretch over display surfaces where they rest, drooping off the edges towards the floor. Those twisted tubular forms expand before bursting open. A few artworks escape their acrylic glass box homes fully, becoming a magnet for grime and particles. One could imagine the ratings would not be positive.

At times I get an impression that objects are alive in a room,” states Herfeldt. This is why I came to use silicone sealant as it offers this very bodily feel and appearance.”

In fact one can detect rather body horror in Herfeldt’s work, from the phallic bulge which extends, like a medical condition, from the support within the showspace, and the winding tubes of foam that rupture like medical emergencies. Along a surface, the artist presents photocopies depicting the sculptures captured in multiple views: resembling wormy parasites seen in scientific samples, or formations in a lab setting.

What captivates me that there are things inside human forms taking place that seem to hold their own life,” the artist notes. “Things you can’t see or command.”

On the subject of things she can’t control, the exhibition advertisement promoting the event displays a picture showing a dripping roof within her workspace in Kreuzberg, Berlin. Constructed built in the early 1970s as she explains, was quickly despised from residents because a lot of historic structures were removed for its development. It was already run-down upon her – who was born in Munich but grew up north of Hamburg then relocating to Berlin as a teenager – began using the space.

This deteriorating space caused issues for the artist – it was risky to display her pieces anxiously they might be damaged – however, it was intriguing. Without any blueprints available, no one knew methods to address any of the issues which occurred. Once an overhead section within her workspace was saturated enough it gave way completely, the only solution was to replace the damaged part – thus repeating the process.

Elsewhere on the property, the artist explains the leaking was so bad so multiple shower basins were set up in the suspended ceiling to channel leaks to another outlet.

It dawned on me that this place was like a body, a totally dysfunctional body,” the artist comments.

This scenario reminded her of Dark Star, the director's first movie from the seventies featuring a smart spaceship which becomes autonomous. Additionally, observers may note through the heading – three distinct names – other cinematic works influenced shaping this exhibition. Those labels refer to the leading women from a horror classic, Halloween and Alien as listed. She mentions an academic paper from a scholar, that describes these “final girls” an original movie concept – women left alone to save the day.

These figures are somewhat masculine, on the silent side and they endure because she’s quite clever,” says Herfeldt regarding this trope. No drug use occurs nor sexual activity. And it doesn’t matter the viewer’s gender, all empathize with the final girl.”

The artist identifies a parallel between these characters and her sculptures – objects which only holding in place amidst stress they face. Is the exhibition more about societal collapse rather than simply leaky ceilings? Because like so many institutions, substances like silicone that should seal and protect from deterioration are actually slowly eroding in our environment.

“Absolutely,” responds the artist.

Prior to discovering her medium using foam materials, the artist worked with different unconventional substances. Past displays have involved forms resembling tongues using a synthetic material found in on a sleeping bag or in coats. Similarly, one finds the feeling these strange items could come alive – a few are compressed like caterpillars mid-crawl, some droop heavily on vertical planes or extend through entries gathering grime from contact (She prompts audiences to interact and soil the works). Similar to the foam artworks, these nylon creations are also housed in – and breaking out of – budget-style acrylic glass boxes. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, and really that’s the point.

“They have a certain aesthetic that somehow you feel very attracted to, and at the same time appearing gross,” the artist comments grinning. “It attempts to seem invisible, but it’s actually very present.”

The artist does not create pieces that offer ease or visual calm. Instead, her intention is to evoke discomfort, strange, maybe even amused. And if there's a moist sensation on your head as well, don’t say you haven’t been warned.