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Should you be thinking about washroom remodeling, it might be wise to steer clear of employing Lisa Herfeldt to handle it.

Indeed, she's highly skilled with a silicone gun, creating fascinating creations out of an unusual substance. Yet the more observe these pieces, the more it becomes apparent that an element is a little unnerving.

The thick strands from the foam she crafts extend past the shelves where they rest, hanging off the edges to the ground. The gnarled tubular forms expand before bursting open. A few artworks escape their transparent enclosures completely, evolving into a collector of debris and fibers. Let's just say the feedback would not be favorable.

“I sometimes have the feeling that objects possess life inside an area,” says the German artist. “That’s why I came to use silicone sealant because it has this very bodily feel and appearance.”

Certainly one can detect somewhat grotesque about these sculptures, including the suggestive swelling that protrudes, similar to a rupture, from its cylindrical stand at the exhibition's heart, or the gut-like spirals of foam that burst as if in crisis. Displayed nearby, are mounted prints showing the pieces viewed from different angles: resembling wormy parasites seen in scientific samples, or colonies on culture plates.

What captivates me is the idea within us occurring that seem to hold their own life,” Herfeldt explains. Elements that are invisible or manage.”

Regarding things she can’t control, the exhibition advertisement featured in the exhibition displays a photograph of water damage overhead at her creative space located in Berlin. It was made in the seventies and, she says, was instantly hated from residents as numerous older edifices were removed for its development. The place was in a state of disrepair as the artist – a native of that city although she spent her youth near Hamburg prior to moving to the capital as a teenager – took up residence.

The rundown building proved challenging for the artist – it was risky to display the sculptures anxiously risk of ruin – yet it also proved intriguing. Lacking architectural drawings accessible, nobody had a clue methods to address the malfunctions which occurred. Once an overhead section within her workspace became so sodden it gave way completely, the single remedy was to replace the damaged part – thus repeating the process.

Elsewhere on the property, she describes dripping was extreme so multiple shower basins got placed within the drop ceiling in order to redirect the water to a different sink.

“I realised that this place was like a body, a totally dysfunctional body,” Herfeldt states.

This scenario reminded her of Dark Star, the director's first 1974 film featuring a smart spaceship that takes on a life of its own. Additionally, observers may note from the show’s title – three distinct names – more movies have inspired shaping this exhibition. The three names point to the leading women from a horror classic, another scary movie and Alien respectively. The artist references a 1987 essay from a scholar, which identifies these “final girls” an original movie concept – protagonists by themselves to triumph.

“She’s a bit tomboyish, rather quiet and she can survive due to intelligence,” she elaborates regarding this trope. “They don’t take drugs nor sexual activity. And it doesn’t matter the viewer’s gender, everyone can relate to the survivor.”

The artist identifies a similarity between these characters with her creations – objects which only staying put despite the pressures they face. Is the exhibition really concerning societal collapse than just water damage? Similar to various systems, such components meant to insulate and guard against harm in fact are decaying within society.

“Completely,” responds the artist.

Before finding inspiration in the silicone gun, Herfeldt used other unusual materials. Previous exhibitions featured organic-looking pieces using a synthetic material you might see on a sleeping bag or apparel lining. Once more, there's the sense these strange items seem lifelike – a few are compressed resembling moving larvae, pieces hang loosely on vertical planes blocking passages attracting dirt from footprints (Herfeldt encourages people to handle and dirty her art). Like the silicone sculptures, those fabric pieces are similarly displayed in – and escaping from – budget-style transparent cases. These are unattractive objects, which is intentional.

“They have a certain aesthetic that draws viewers compelled by, yet simultaneously being quite repulsive,” she says with a smile. “The art aims for not there, but it’s actually very present.”

Herfeldt is not making pieces that offer comfortable or aesthetically soothed. Conversely, she aims for unease, awkward, or even humor. However, should you notice water droplets from above as well, remember you haven’t been warned.