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When considering restroom upgrades, you may want to avoid employing Lisa Herfeldt for the job.

Truly, she's an expert using sealant applicators, crafting intriguing creations with a surprising art material. However the more look at the artworks, the more it becomes apparent that an element seems somewhat strange.

The dense lengths made of silicone she produces stretch over their supports supporting them, drooping downwards below. The gnarled foam pipes bulge till they rupture. A few artworks leave their acrylic glass box homes entirely, turning into a magnet for dust and hair. Let's just say the reviews might not get pretty.

“I sometimes have an impression that things seem animated inside an area,” remarks the sculptor. This is why I turned to this foam material due to its such an organic feel and appearance.”

Indeed there is an element somewhat grotesque regarding the artist's creations, from the phallic bulge that protrudes, hernia-like, from the support at the exhibition's heart, or the gut-like spirals made of silicone that rupture as if in crisis. On one wall, are mounted prints of the works seen from various perspectives: resembling microscopic invaders seen in scientific samples, or growths on a petri-dish.

“It interests me that there are things within us happening that also have independent existence,” Herfeldt explains. Phenomena which remain unseen or command.”

Talking of elements beyond her influence, the poster promoting the event includes a photograph of water damage overhead at her creative space in the German capital. The building had been built in the early 1970s and, she says, was quickly despised from residents as numerous old buildings got demolished to allow its construction. By the time in a state of disrepair as the artist – who was born in Munich yet raised north of Hamburg prior to moving to the capital during her teens – began using the space.

The rundown building proved challenging for her work – she couldn’t hang the sculptures without fearing potential harm – however, it was intriguing. Without any blueprints available, no one knew how to repair any of the issues that developed. After a part of the roof within her workspace became so sodden it gave way completely, the only solution involved installing it with another – thus repeating the process.

Elsewhere on the property, Herfeldt says the water intrusion was severe that a series of shower basins were set up within the drop ceiling to channel the water to a different sink.

I understood that this place was like a body, an entirely malfunctioning system,” the artist comments.

These conditions reminded her of a classic film, the director's first 1974 film featuring a smart spaceship which becomes autonomous. And as you might notice given the naming – a trio of references – that’s not the only film impacting this exhibition. Those labels indicate main characters from a horror classic, Halloween plus the sci-fi hit respectively. The artist references a critical analysis written by Carol J Clover, outlining these surviving characters a distinctive cinematic theme – women left alone to triumph.

They often display toughness, reserved in nature enabling their survival due to intelligence,” she elaborates regarding this trope. “They don’t take drugs or have sex. It is irrelevant who is watching, everyone can relate to the final girl.”

She draws a parallel linking these figures to her artworks – elements that barely maintaining position amidst stress affecting them. So is her work more about social breakdown beyond merely dripping roofs? Because like so many institutions, substances like silicone intended to secure and shield from deterioration are gradually failing within society.

“Oh, totally,” responds the artist.

Prior to discovering her medium with sealant applicators, Herfeldt used different unconventional substances. Recent shows featured organic-looking pieces using the kind of nylon fabric found in in insulated clothing or apparel lining. Similarly, one finds the feeling these strange items seem lifelike – certain pieces are folded as insects in motion, pieces hang loosely from walls blocking passages collecting debris from touch (Herfeldt encourages people to handle and soil the works). Similar to the foam artworks, these nylon creations are similarly displayed in – and escaping from – inexpensive-seeming display enclosures. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, which is intentional.

“They have a specific look which makes one very attracted to, and at the same time they’re very disgusting,” she says grinning. “It tries to be invisible, but it’s actually very present.”

Herfeldt's goal isn't art to provide relaxation or beauty. Rather, her intention is to evoke uncomfortable, awkward, or even humor. And if there's something wet dripping overhead too, consider yourself you haven’t been warned.