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Should you be thinking about washroom remodeling, it might be wise to steer clear of employing the sculptor for such tasks.

Certainly, Herfeldt is a whiz in handling foam materials, producing fascinating artworks from this unlikely substance. However longer you examine the artworks, the more it becomes apparent a certain aspect is a little unnerving.

Those hefty strands from the foam she produces extend past display surfaces on which they sit, hanging off the edges below. The gnarled tubular forms expand before bursting open. A few artworks escape their acrylic glass box homes fully, evolving into an attractor for dust and hair. Let's just say the feedback are unlikely to earn favorable.

At times I get an impression that objects seem animated within a space,” says the sculptor. Hence I came to use this foam material because it has such an organic texture and feeling.”

In fact there is an element almost visceral in Herfeldt’s work, from the phallic bulge jutting out, like a medical condition, from its cylindrical stand in the centre of the gallery, and the winding tubes from the material that rupture resembling bodily failures. Displayed nearby, Herfeldt has framed photocopies showing the pieces captured in multiple views: appearing as microscopic invaders observed under magnification, or growths on culture plates.

“It interests me is the idea within us occurring that also have their own life,” she says. Elements which remain unseen or control.”

Talking of things she can’t control, the promotional image promoting the event includes an image of water damage overhead in her own studio located in Berlin. The building had been made in the seventies and according to her, faced immediate dislike among the community because a lot of older edifices were removed for its development. The place was run-down when Herfeldt – who was born in Munich although she spent her youth in northern Germany prior to moving to the capital in her youth – began using the space.

This decrepit property was frustrating for the artist – she couldn’t hang the sculptures without fearing potential harm – however, it was fascinating. Lacking architectural drawings accessible, nobody had a clue how to repair the malfunctions which occurred. When the ceiling panel in Herfeldt’s studio became so sodden it collapsed entirely, the only solution was to replace the damaged part – perpetuating the issue.

In a different area, Herfeldt says the water intrusion was severe so multiple shower basins got placed above the false roof to channel the water to a different sink.

“I realised that the building acted as a physical form, a completely flawed entity,” Herfeldt states.

These conditions evoked memories of the sci-fi movie, John Carpenter’s debut movie from the seventies featuring a smart spaceship which becomes autonomous. And as you might notice from the show’s title – Alice, Laurie & Ripley – more movies have inspired to have influenced Herfeldt’s show. Those labels indicate main characters from a horror classic, Halloween plus the sci-fi hit as listed. Herfeldt cites a 1987 essay by the American professor, outlining the last women standing a distinctive cinematic theme – protagonists by themselves to save the day.

These figures are somewhat masculine, on the silent side and they endure because she’s quite clever,” she elaborates regarding this trope. They avoid substances nor sexual activity. Regardless the audience's identity, everyone can relate to the final girl.”

Herfeldt sees a parallel linking these figures and her sculptures – objects which only holding in place amidst stress they face. Is the exhibition more about societal collapse than just water damage? Because like so many institutions, substances like silicone intended to secure and shield against harm are actually slowly eroding in our environment.

“Oh, totally,” she confirms.

Earlier in her career with sealant applicators, Herfeldt used alternative odd mediums. Past displays have involved forms resembling tongues made from the kind of nylon fabric typical for on a sleeping bag or inside a jacket. Again there is the feeling these strange items might animate – a few are compressed like caterpillars mid-crawl, others lollop down on vertical planes blocking passages gathering grime from contact (She prompts people to handle and soil the works). Like the silicone sculptures, the textile works are similarly displayed in – and breaking out of – budget-style acrylic glass boxes. They’re ugly looking things, and that's the essence.

“These works possess a specific look that somehow you feel compelled by, while also being quite repulsive,” she says with a smile. “It attempts to seem absent, however, it is highly noticeable.”

Herfeldt's goal isn't art to provide relaxation or beauty. Instead, her intention is to evoke uncomfortable, odd, or even humor. However, should you notice something wet dripping on your head too, consider yourself this was foreshadowed.