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When considering bathroom renovations, it might be wise to avoid engaging this German artist to handle it.

Certainly, Herfeldt is a whiz using sealant applicators, producing compelling sculptures with a surprising medium. However as you look at these pieces, the stronger one notices that an element seems somewhat off.

The dense strands of sealant Herfeldt forms stretch beyond display surfaces where they rest, drooping downwards to the ground. The knotty tubular forms bulge till they rupture. Certain pieces leave their transparent enclosures fully, turning into a magnet for dust and hair. Let's just say the reviews are unlikely to earn favorable.

“I sometimes have an impression that things are alive inside an area,” says the German artist. “That’s why I came to use this substance as it offers this very bodily feel and appearance.”

Indeed there’s something almost visceral in the artist's creations, including that protruding shape jutting out, hernia-like, off its base in the centre of the gallery, to the intestinal coils of foam that burst resembling bodily failures. Displayed nearby, Herfeldt has framed photocopies of the works seen from various perspectives: they look like squirming organisms seen in scientific samples, or formations on a petri-dish.

“It interests me that there are things inside human forms happening which possess their own life,” Herfeldt explains. Elements you can’t see or command.”

Talking of things she can’t control, the exhibition advertisement featured in the exhibition displays a photograph of the leaky ceiling in her own studio in the German capital. It was built in the early 1970s and according to her, was instantly hated from residents because a lot of old buildings got demolished in order to make way for it. By the time in a state of disrepair upon her – a native of that city but grew up near Hamburg then relocating to Berlin in her youth – began using the space.

This decrepit property proved challenging for the artist – she couldn’t hang the sculptures without fearing they might be damaged – yet it also proved compelling. Lacking architectural drawings accessible, nobody had a clue how to repair the malfunctions that developed. When the ceiling panel at the artist's area was saturated enough it gave way completely, the sole fix meant swapping the panel with a new one – perpetuating the issue.

In a different area, she describes dripping was extreme so multiple drainage containers got placed above the false roof in order to redirect leaks to another outlet.

“I realised that the building was like a body, a completely flawed entity,” the artist comments.

These conditions evoked memories of Dark Star, the director's first 1974 film featuring a smart spaceship that develops independence. And as you might notice through the heading – three distinct names – more movies have inspired to have influenced Herfeldt’s show. Those labels indicate the leading women in the slasher film, Halloween plus the sci-fi hit respectively. She mentions an academic paper by the American professor, which identifies the last women standing an original movie concept – women left alone to overcome.

They often display toughness, on the silent side and they endure because she’s quite clever,” says Herfeldt regarding this trope. “They don’t take drugs nor sexual activity. And it doesn’t matter the audience's identity, everyone can relate to the survivor.”

She draws a connection between these characters to her artworks – objects which only maintaining position amidst stress they’re under. Does this mean the art really concerning social breakdown than just leaky ceilings? As with many structures, substances like silicone meant to insulate and guard us from damage are gradually failing in our environment.

“Absolutely,” says Herfeldt.

Earlier in her career with sealant applicators, she experimented with other unusual materials. Past displays featured forms resembling tongues crafted from a synthetic material you might see in insulated clothing or in coats. Similarly, one finds the sense these peculiar objects seem lifelike – a few are compressed as insects in motion, pieces hang loosely on vertical planes or spill across doorways attracting dirt from footprints (Herfeldt encourages audiences to interact and dirty her art). Like the silicone sculptures, these nylon creations are similarly displayed in – and escaping from – cheap looking acrylic glass boxes. These are unattractive objects, which is intentional.

“They have a particular style that draws viewers highly drawn to, and at the same time being quite repulsive,” she says amusedly. “It tries to be not there, but it’s actually extremely obvious.”

Herfeldt is not making pieces that offer relaxation or aesthetically soothed. Conversely, her intention is to evoke unease, awkward, maybe even amused. And if there's a moist sensation overhead as well, don’t say this was foreshadowed.