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If you're planning washroom remodeling, it's advisable to steer clear of engaging Lisa Herfeldt to handle it.

Certainly, Herfeldt is highly skilled in handling foam materials, creating fascinating creations with a surprising art material. However longer you look at these pieces, the stronger it becomes apparent that something seems somewhat unnerving.

The thick tubes made of silicone she produces extend over display surfaces where they rest, sagging off the edges to the ground. Those twisted tubular forms swell before bursting open. Certain pieces break free from the display cases fully, turning into a collector for dust and hair. Let's just say the feedback might not get positive.

There are moments I feel the feeling that things seem animated in a room,” states Herfeldt. “That’s why I turned to silicone sealant due to its a distinctly physical feel and appearance.”

Certainly there’s something somewhat grotesque in these sculptures, starting with the suggestive swelling that protrudes, similar to a rupture, from its cylindrical stand in the centre of the gallery, to the intestinal coils from the material that rupture like medical emergencies. Displayed nearby, the artist presents prints of the works viewed from different angles: resembling microscopic invaders observed under magnification, or formations in a lab setting.

What captivates me is the idea inside human forms happening that also have their own life,” she says. “Things you can’t see or control.”

On the subject of elements beyond her influence, the promotional image for the show features a picture of the leaky ceiling in her own studio in the German capital. Constructed made in the seventies as she explains, faced immediate dislike from residents since many old buildings were removed for its development. By the time in a state of disrepair when Herfeldt – who was born in Munich although she spent her youth north of Hamburg prior to moving to the capital during her teens – began using the space.

This decrepit property was frustrating for her work – she couldn’t hang her pieces anxiously they might be damaged – however, it was fascinating. Without any blueprints available, nobody had a clue how to repair the malfunctions that developed. After a part of the roof at the artist's area was saturated enough it collapsed entirely, the only solution meant swapping the damaged part – thus repeating the process.

Elsewhere on the property, Herfeldt says the water intrusion was severe that a series of collection units got placed above the false roof to channel leaks to another outlet.

It dawned on me that the structure acted as a physical form, a totally dysfunctional body,” she says.

This scenario evoked memories of the sci-fi movie, the director's first movie from the seventies concerning a conscious ship which becomes autonomous. And as you might notice through the heading – a trio of references – more movies have inspired to have influenced Herfeldt’s show. Those labels refer to main characters in Friday 13th, the iconic thriller plus the sci-fi hit as listed. Herfeldt cites a 1987 essay from a scholar, outlining the last women standing as a unique film trope – women left alone to triumph.

They often display toughness, reserved in nature and they endure thanks to resourcefulness,” says Herfeldt about such characters. No drug use occurs nor sexual activity. And it doesn’t matter the viewer’s gender, everyone can relate to the final girl.”

She draws a connection from these protagonists to her artworks – objects which only maintaining position under strain they’re under. Does this mean the art really concerning cultural decay beyond merely water damage? Similar to various systems, substances like silicone that should seal and protect us from damage are gradually failing in our environment.

“Oh, totally,” she confirms.

Earlier in her career with sealant applicators, she experimented with other unusual materials. Past displays included tongue-like shapes using a synthetic material found in in insulated clothing or inside a jacket. Again there is the feeling such unusual creations might animate – a few are compressed as insects in motion, some droop heavily off surfaces blocking passages gathering grime from contact (She prompts viewers to touch and soil the works). Like the silicone sculptures, these nylon creations are also housed in – and escaping from – budget-style transparent cases. These are unattractive objects, and really that’s the point.

“The sculptures exhibit a certain aesthetic that somehow you feel compelled by, and at the same time being quite repulsive,” the artist comments with a smile. “It tries to be absent, however, it is very present.”

Herfeldt's goal isn't work to make you feel ease or aesthetically soothed. Conversely, she aims for uncomfortable, awkward, maybe even amused. But if you start to feel something wet dripping on your head as well, remember the alert was given.