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If you're planning bathroom renovations, you may want to avoid employing the sculptor to handle it.

Indeed, Herfeldt is an expert with a silicone gun, crafting intriguing sculptures from this unlikely substance. However longer you examine the artworks, the more it becomes apparent that something is a little strange.

The thick tubes made of silicone she crafts stretch past display surfaces where they rest, hanging over the sides below. The knotty silicone strands bulge until they split. Some creations break free from their transparent enclosures entirely, turning into an attractor for grime and particles. One could imagine the feedback are unlikely to earn favorable.

At times I get an impression that items seem animated inside an area,” states the sculptor. “That’s why I turned to this foam material as it offers a distinctly physical feel and appearance.”

Certainly there’s something rather body horror in these sculptures, from the suggestive swelling jutting out, similar to a rupture, from its cylindrical stand at the exhibition's heart, and the winding tubes from the material that burst as if in crisis. On one wall, Herfeldt has framed photocopies of the works viewed from different angles: resembling wormy parasites observed under magnification, or formations on a petri-dish.

“It interests me is how certain elements in our bodies happening which possess a life of their own,” the artist notes. Phenomena that are invisible or manage.”

Talking of elements beyond her influence, the poster for the show features a photograph of the leaky ceiling in her own studio in the German capital. It was erected decades ago as she explains, was instantly hated among the community as numerous old buildings were torn down for its development. The place was run-down when Herfeldt – originally from Munich but grew up in northern Germany before arriving in Berlin during her teens – began using the space.

The rundown building caused issues to Herfeldt – she couldn’t hang her art works without fearing they might be damaged – yet it also proved intriguing. Without any blueprints available, it was unclear how to repair any of the issues that developed. After a part of the roof in Herfeldt’s studio became so sodden it fell apart fully, the only solution involved installing the panel with a new one – perpetuating the issue.

At another site, she describes the water intrusion was severe so multiple drainage containers were set up above the false roof to divert the moisture elsewhere.

“I realised that the structure acted as a physical form, a completely flawed entity,” the artist comments.

These conditions evoked memories of Dark Star, the director's first 1974 film concerning a conscious ship which becomes autonomous. As the exhibition's title suggests through the heading – a trio of references – that’s not the only film impacting the artist's presentation. The three names point to the leading women in the slasher film, the iconic thriller and the extraterrestrial saga as listed. The artist references a 1987 essay by the American professor, that describes these “final girls” a distinctive cinematic theme – women left alone to overcome.

These figures are somewhat masculine, on the silent side and she can survive due to intelligence,” the artist explains about such characters. No drug use occurs nor sexual activity. And it doesn’t matter who is watching, we can all identify with this character.”

She draws a parallel between these characters and her sculptures – objects which only maintaining position despite the pressures affecting them. So is her work focused on cultural decay than just leaky ceilings? Because like so many institutions, substances like silicone meant to insulate and guard us from damage are gradually failing around us.

“Completely,” says Herfeldt.

Earlier in her career with sealant applicators, she experimented with different unconventional substances. Previous exhibitions have involved organic-looking pieces using a synthetic material typical for on a sleeping bag or in coats. Again there is the sense these peculiar objects could come alive – certain pieces are folded like caterpillars mid-crawl, pieces hang loosely on vertical planes blocking passages gathering grime from contact (Herfeldt encourages audiences to interact and soil the works). As with earlier creations, these nylon creations also occupy – and breaking out of – inexpensive-seeming display enclosures. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, and really that’s the point.

“The sculptures exhibit a certain aesthetic that draws viewers compelled by, while also being quite repulsive,” she says amusedly. “The art aims for invisible, however, it is very present.”

Herfeldt's goal isn't art to provide relaxation or aesthetically soothed. Conversely, she wants you to feel uncomfortable, awkward, perhaps entertained. And if there's a moist sensation from above additionally, consider yourself this was foreshadowed.