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If you're planning washroom remodeling, you may want to avoid engaging the sculptor for such tasks.

Truly, she's an expert in handling foam materials, crafting fascinating creations from this unlikely art material. However the more observe her creations, the more one notices that something seems somewhat off.

The dense tubes of sealant she produces extend past the shelves supporting them, drooping downwards towards the floor. Those twisted silicone strands swell before bursting open. Some creations leave the display cases fully, evolving into a magnet for grime and particles. It's safe to say the feedback might not get positive.

At times I get this sense that items seem animated within a space,” states Herfeldt. “That’s why I came to use this foam material due to its this very bodily texture and feeling.”

Certainly there is an element almost visceral in these sculptures, including the suggestive swelling jutting out, like a medical condition, from the support within the showspace, or the gut-like spirals of foam that burst resembling bodily failures. Along a surface, are mounted images of the works viewed from different angles: they look like squirming organisms picked up on a microscope, or growths in a lab setting.

“It interests me is how certain elements inside human forms happening that seem to hold a life of their own,” Herfeldt explains. Elements you can’t see or control.”

Regarding unmanageable factors, the poster featured in the exhibition displays a picture showing a dripping roof in her own studio in Kreuzberg, Berlin. It was erected decades ago and, she says, faced immediate dislike by local people since many historic structures were removed in order to make way for it. It was already in a state of disrepair when Herfeldt – originally from Munich yet raised north of Hamburg before arriving in Berlin in her youth – took up residence.

The rundown building was frustrating for the artist – she couldn’t hang the sculptures anxiously risk of ruin – however, it was fascinating. Without any blueprints available, nobody had a clue methods to address the problems that developed. After a part of the roof in Herfeldt’s studio became so sodden it collapsed entirely, the sole fix meant swapping the panel with a new one – thus repeating the process.

In a different area, she describes the leaking was so bad so multiple drainage containers got placed in the suspended ceiling to channel leaks to another outlet.

“I realised that the structure acted as a physical form, an entirely malfunctioning system,” Herfeldt states.

This scenario reminded her of a classic film, the initial work cinematic piece concerning a conscious ship that develops independence. Additionally, observers may note through the heading – a trio of references – other cinematic works influenced impacting Herfeldt’s show. These titles indicate the female protagonists from a horror classic, another scary movie and Alien as listed. She mentions an academic paper by the American professor, which identifies the last women standing as a unique film trope – female characters isolated to overcome.

“She’s a bit tomboyish, on the silent side and she can survive due to intelligence,” the artist explains regarding this trope. “They don’t take drugs or engage intimately. And it doesn’t matter who is watching, everyone can relate to the survivor.”

Herfeldt sees a similarity linking these figures and her sculptures – elements that barely holding in place under strain affecting them. Is the exhibition more about social breakdown rather than simply leaky ceilings? Because like so many institutions, such components intended to secure and shield against harm are gradually failing within society.

“Absolutely,” responds the artist.

Before finding inspiration in the silicone gun, the artist worked with other unusual materials. Recent shows have involved forms resembling tongues using a synthetic material found in in insulated clothing or inside a jacket. Again there is the sense these strange items might animate – certain pieces are folded like caterpillars mid-crawl, others lollop down on vertical planes or extend through entries collecting debris from touch (She prompts viewers to touch leaving marks on pieces). Similar to the foam artworks, these nylon creations are similarly displayed in – and escaping from – inexpensive-seeming display enclosures. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, and really that’s the point.

“The sculptures exhibit a particular style that somehow you feel compelled by, yet simultaneously being quite repulsive,” the artist comments with a smile. “It attempts to seem not there, however, it is highly noticeable.”

The artist does not create pieces that offer ease or aesthetically soothed. Rather, her intention is to evoke uncomfortable, awkward, or even humor. And if there's something wet dripping on your head as well, don’t say this was foreshadowed.