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When considering washroom remodeling, it might be wise not to choose engaging Lisa Herfeldt for such tasks.

Certainly, Herfeldt is a whiz using sealant applicators, creating fascinating sculptures from this unlikely substance. But as you look at these pieces, the stronger it becomes apparent that something seems somewhat unnerving.

The thick tubes from the foam she crafts extend past their supports on which they sit, sagging over the sides towards the floor. The knotty foam pipes swell until they split. Certain pieces break free from the display cases entirely, evolving into an attractor for dust and hair. Let's just say the reviews might not get favorable.

There are moments I feel an impression that objects seem animated in a room,” says the sculptor. “That’s why I turned to this substance because it has such an organic texture and feeling.”

Certainly there is an element somewhat grotesque regarding these sculptures, from that protruding shape which extends, similar to a rupture, from the support at the exhibition's heart, or the gut-like spirals made of silicone that rupture resembling bodily failures. On one wall, the artist presents photocopies depicting the sculptures seen from various perspectives: appearing as squirming organisms seen in scientific samples, or formations on culture plates.

“It interests me is how certain elements in our bodies occurring that seem to hold independent existence,” the artist notes. Phenomena which remain unseen or command.”

Talking of elements beyond her influence, the exhibition advertisement promoting the event includes a picture of water damage overhead within her workspace located in Berlin. It was made in the seventies and, she says, was instantly hated from residents because a lot of historic structures got demolished to allow its construction. The place was in a state of disrepair as the artist – a native of that city yet raised north of Hamburg before arriving in Berlin as a teenager – took up residence.

This decrepit property was frustrating to Herfeldt – placing artworks was difficult her pieces anxiously they might be damaged – but it was also compelling. Without any blueprints accessible, no one knew how to repair any of the issues that developed. When the ceiling panel in Herfeldt’s studio got thoroughly soaked it fell apart fully, the only solution involved installing it with another – and so the cycle continued.

In a different area, she describes dripping was extreme so multiple drainage containers were installed within the drop ceiling in order to redirect leaks to another outlet.

I understood that the building acted as a physical form, an entirely malfunctioning system,” she says.

These conditions brought to mind Dark Star, the director's first movie from the seventies featuring a smart spaceship that develops independence. As the exhibition's title suggests given the naming – three distinct names – other cinematic works influenced impacting this exhibition. Those labels indicate the leading women in the slasher film, Halloween and the extraterrestrial saga respectively. Herfeldt cites a critical analysis written by Carol J Clover, outlining these surviving characters a distinctive cinematic theme – female characters isolated to triumph.

“She’s a bit tomboyish, on the silent side and she can survive because she’s quite clever,” the artist explains of the archetypal final girl. No drug use occurs nor sexual activity. Regardless the audience's identity, all empathize with the final girl.”

She draws a similarity from these protagonists with her creations – objects which only holding in place under strain affecting them. Does this mean the art more about social breakdown than just dripping roofs? As with many structures, these materials intended to secure and shield from deterioration are actually slowly eroding within society.

“Completely,” responds the artist.

Before finding inspiration with sealant applicators, the artist worked with other unusual materials. Past displays have involved forms resembling tongues crafted from fabric similar to typical for within outdoor gear or inside a jacket. Similarly, one finds the sense these strange items might animate – a few are compressed resembling moving larvae, pieces hang loosely on vertical planes or spill across doorways attracting dirt from footprints (Herfeldt encourages people to handle and dirty her art). Like the silicone sculptures, those fabric pieces are also housed in – and breaking out of – budget-style transparent cases. These are unattractive objects, which is intentional.

“These works possess a particular style that somehow you feel very attracted to, while also they’re very disgusting,” the artist comments with a smile. “The art aims for not there, however, it is very present.”

The artist does not create work to make you feel relaxation or visual calm. Conversely, she aims for unease, awkward, or even humor. But if you start to feel a moist sensation on your head too, don’t say you haven’t been warned.