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If you're planning washroom remodeling, you may want to steer clear of employing Lisa Herfeldt to handle it.

Indeed, she's an expert using sealant applicators, producing intriguing artworks from this unlikely art material. However longer you look at her creations, the more one notices that an element feels slightly off.

The thick strands made of silicone she crafts stretch beyond display surfaces supporting them, sagging downwards towards the floor. The knotty silicone strands swell until they split. Certain pieces break free from their transparent enclosures completely, turning into a collector for dust and hair. It's safe to say the ratings might not get favorable.

There are moments I feel the feeling that things possess life within a space,” remarks the sculptor. “That’s why I came to use this foam material due to its a distinctly physical sensation and look.”

In fact there’s something almost visceral regarding Herfeldt’s work, starting with the suggestive swelling jutting out, hernia-like, from its cylindrical stand at the exhibition's heart, to the intestinal coils from the material that rupture as if in crisis. On one wall, Herfeldt has framed prints depicting the sculptures captured in multiple views: appearing as microscopic invaders seen in scientific samples, or formations in a lab setting.

“It interests me is how certain elements within us taking place that also have a life of their own,” the artist notes. “Things which remain unseen or command.”

Talking of elements beyond her influence, the promotional image for the show includes a picture showing a dripping roof at her creative space in Kreuzberg, Berlin. It was made in the seventies as she explains, was quickly despised among the community since many old buildings were removed for its development. By the time dilapidated upon her – who was born in Munich yet raised near Hamburg before arriving in Berlin during her teens – moved in.

This decrepit property proved challenging to Herfeldt – she couldn’t hang the sculptures without fearing they might be damaged – yet it also proved fascinating. With no building plans accessible, no one knew how to repair any of the issues that arose. After a part of the roof in Herfeldt’s studio got thoroughly soaked it fell apart fully, the sole fix meant swapping the damaged part – thus repeating the process.

Elsewhere on the property, she describes the leaking was so bad that several collection units got placed within the drop ceiling to divert the water to a different sink.

It dawned on me that the building was like a body, a totally dysfunctional body,” Herfeldt states.

The situation reminded her of Dark Star, the initial work 1974 film concerning a conscious ship that develops independence. As the exhibition's title suggests given the naming – three distinct names – other cinematic works influenced shaping Herfeldt’s show. These titles indicate main characters in Friday 13th, Halloween plus the sci-fi hit as listed. Herfeldt cites an academic paper from a scholar, outlining these surviving characters an original movie concept – protagonists by themselves to overcome.

“She’s a bit tomboyish, reserved in nature enabling their survival due to intelligence,” she elaborates about such characters. No drug use occurs or have sex. Regardless who is watching, we can all identify with the final girl.”

She draws a similarity between these characters to her artworks – objects which only holding in place amidst stress affecting them. So is her work more about societal collapse rather than simply leaky ceilings? Similar to various systems, substances like silicone meant to insulate and guard against harm in fact are decaying in our environment.

“Completely,” she confirms.

Prior to discovering her medium in the silicone gun, she experimented with different unconventional substances. Previous exhibitions have involved tongue-like shapes using a synthetic material typical for within outdoor gear or inside a jacket. Similarly, one finds the sense these strange items seem lifelike – some are concertinaed like caterpillars mid-crawl, pieces hang loosely off surfaces or spill across doorways gathering grime from contact (The artist invites audiences to interact and soil the works). Like the silicone sculptures, these nylon creations also occupy – leaving – inexpensive-seeming acrylic glass boxes. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, and really that’s the point.

“The sculptures exhibit a particular style that somehow you feel highly drawn to, and at the same time being quite repulsive,” Herfeldt remarks amusedly. “It tries to be not there, but it’s actually highly noticeable.”

Herfeldt's goal isn't art to provide ease or beauty. Rather, she aims for uncomfortable, strange, or even humor. However, should you notice something wet dripping on your head additionally, consider yourself this was foreshadowed.