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Should you be thinking about washroom remodeling, it's advisable not to choose hiring the sculptor for the job.

Certainly, Herfeldt is an expert with a silicone gun, crafting intriguing creations out of an unusual substance. But as you examine these pieces, the stronger it becomes apparent that something is a little unnerving.

The thick lengths of sealant Herfeldt forms reach beyond their supports supporting them, drooping downwards below. The gnarled tubular forms bulge till they rupture. Some creations leave their acrylic glass box homes fully, turning into a magnet for grime and particles. It's safe to say the reviews would not be pretty.

There are moments I feel this sense that objects seem animated within a space,” remarks Herfeldt. This is why I came to use this substance as it offers a distinctly physical texture and feeling.”

Indeed one can detect almost visceral regarding Herfeldt’s work, starting with the phallic bulge jutting out, similar to a rupture, from the support in the centre of the gallery, or the gut-like spirals from the material that rupture resembling bodily failures. On one wall, Herfeldt has framed photocopies depicting the sculptures viewed from different angles: they look like microscopic invaders seen in scientific samples, or growths on a petri-dish.

I am fascinated by that there are things within us taking place that seem to hold their own life,” Herfeldt explains. “Things that are invisible or command.”

Regarding things she can’t control, the promotional image for the show includes a picture of water damage overhead at her creative space in the German capital. The building had been made in the seventies and, she says, faced immediate dislike among the community since many older edifices were removed to allow its construction. It was already dilapidated as the artist – originally from Munich but grew up in northern Germany before arriving in Berlin as a teenager – moved in.

The rundown building proved challenging for the artist – it was risky to display her pieces anxiously they might be damaged – yet it also proved fascinating. Lacking architectural drawings accessible, it was unclear the way to fix the malfunctions which occurred. After a part of the roof at the artist's area got thoroughly soaked it fell apart fully, the single remedy meant swapping it with another – and so the cycle continued.

In a different area, the artist explains the water intrusion was severe that a series of shower basins were set up above the false roof to channel leaks to another outlet.

I understood that this place acted as a physical form, an entirely malfunctioning system,” the artist comments.

These conditions reminded her of the sci-fi movie, John Carpenter’s debut cinematic piece featuring a smart spaceship which becomes autonomous. As the exhibition's title suggests given the naming – three distinct names – more movies have inspired to have influenced this exhibition. The three names refer to main characters from a horror classic, another scary movie and Alien in that order. She mentions an academic paper by the American professor, which identifies these surviving characters as a unique film trope – protagonists by themselves to save the day.

“She’s a bit tomboyish, on the silent side enabling their survival thanks to resourcefulness,” she elaborates of the archetypal final girl. “They don’t take drugs or engage intimately. And it doesn’t matter the viewer’s gender, we can all identify with the survivor.”

The artist identifies a connection between these characters with her creations – things that are just about holding in place amidst stress affecting them. Is the exhibition focused on societal collapse than just leaky ceilings? Because like so many institutions, such components 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, she experimented with other unusual materials. Previous exhibitions featured tongue-like shapes made from fabric similar to you might see within outdoor gear or inside a jacket. Once more, there's the sense such unusual creations might animate – some are concertinaed like caterpillars mid-crawl, pieces hang loosely on vertical planes or spill across doorways attracting dirt from footprints (Herfeldt encourages audiences to interact leaving marks on pieces). As with earlier creations, the textile works also occupy – leaving – budget-style acrylic glass boxes. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, and really that’s the point.

“They have a certain aesthetic that somehow you feel compelled by, yet simultaneously being quite repulsive,” Herfeldt remarks with a smile. “It attempts to seem not there, yet in reality extremely obvious.”

Herfeldt is not making art to provide relaxation or aesthetically soothed. Instead, she aims for discomfort, awkward, maybe even amused. But if you start to feel a moist sensation on your head too, consider yourself the alert was given.