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When considering restroom upgrades, it might be wise not to choose engaging the sculptor to handle it.

Truly, she's an expert with a silicone gun, creating intriguing sculptures out of an unusual substance. But longer you observe the artworks, the clearer you realise a certain aspect feels slightly unnerving.

The dense lengths of sealant she crafts extend past their supports on which they sit, drooping downwards below. The knotty silicone strands swell till they rupture. Some creations escape their acrylic glass box homes entirely, evolving into an attractor of debris and fibers. It's safe to say the ratings might not get pretty.

“I sometimes have an impression that items are alive within a space,” says Herfeldt. This is why I started using this foam material due to its a distinctly physical texture and feeling.”

Indeed one can detect rather body horror about these sculptures, including the suggestive swelling which extends, similar to a rupture, from its cylindrical stand within the showspace, to the intestinal coils from the material which split open like medical emergencies. Along a surface, Herfeldt has framed images depicting the sculptures seen from various perspectives: appearing as wormy parasites seen in scientific samples, or colonies on a petri-dish.

I am fascinated by is how certain elements inside human forms happening that also have independent existence,” the artist notes. Elements you can’t see or control.”

Talking of unmanageable factors, the exhibition advertisement featured in the exhibition includes a picture of the leaky ceiling in her own studio in Kreuzberg, Berlin. The building had been made in the seventies as she explains, was instantly hated from residents since many older edifices were removed in order to make way for it. It was already in a state of disrepair when Herfeldt – a native of that city but grew up near Hamburg before arriving in Berlin during her teens – moved in.

This deteriorating space proved challenging to Herfeldt – it was risky to display her pieces anxiously they might be damaged – yet it also proved fascinating. Without any blueprints on hand, nobody had a clue methods to address any of the issues that developed. Once an overhead section within her workspace was saturated enough it collapsed entirely, the single remedy meant swapping it with another – and so the cycle continued.

In a different area, she describes dripping was extreme that several drainage containers got placed in the suspended ceiling in order to redirect leaks to another outlet.

I understood that this place resembled an organism, a completely flawed entity,” the artist comments.

These conditions brought to mind Dark Star, the initial work movie from the seventies featuring a smart spaceship that takes on a life of its own. As the exhibition's title suggests from the show’s title – a trio of references – that’s not the only film impacting the artist's presentation. Those labels point to the female protagonists from a horror classic, Halloween plus the sci-fi hit in that order. She mentions a critical analysis by the American professor, outlining these surviving characters a distinctive cinematic theme – women left alone to triumph.

“She’s a bit tomboyish, on the silent side enabling their survival thanks to resourcefulness,” says Herfeldt regarding this trope. “They don’t take drugs nor sexual activity. It is irrelevant the audience's identity, we can all identify with the final girl.”

Herfeldt sees a similarity between these characters and her sculptures – objects which only staying put despite the pressures they face. Is the exhibition more about social breakdown beyond merely dripping roofs? As with many structures, substances like silicone meant to insulate and guard us from damage in fact are decaying within society.

“Oh, totally,” says Herfeldt.

Before finding inspiration with sealant applicators, she experimented with alternative odd mediums. Previous exhibitions included forms resembling tongues crafted from a synthetic material typical for in insulated clothing or apparel lining. 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 collecting debris from touch (The artist invites audiences to interact and dirty her art). Similar to the foam artworks, the textile works also occupy – and breaking out of – budget-style transparent cases. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, and really that’s the point.

“They have a certain aesthetic that somehow you feel highly drawn to, yet simultaneously they’re very disgusting,” Herfeldt remarks amusedly. “It attempts to seem invisible, however, it is highly noticeable.”

The artist does not create work to make you feel comfortable or aesthetically soothed. Conversely, she aims for discomfort, odd, perhaps entertained. However, should you notice water droplets overhead additionally, don’t say the alert was given.