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

Certainly, Herfeldt is highly skilled with a silicone gun, creating compelling sculptures from this unlikely art material. But longer you look at these pieces, the stronger you realise that something seems somewhat off.

The thick tubes of sealant she crafts stretch over display surfaces supporting them, drooping over the sides to the ground. The knotty silicone strands bulge until they split. Certain pieces escape their acrylic glass box homes fully, turning into a collector for grime and particles. One could imagine the feedback are unlikely to earn pretty.

“I sometimes have this sense that things seem animated within a space,” says Herfeldt. This is why I started using this foam material as it offers such an organic sensation and look.”

Certainly there is an element almost visceral in Herfeldt’s work, including that protruding shape that protrudes, like a medical condition, off its base in the centre of the gallery, and the winding tubes of foam that burst as if in crisis. Displayed nearby, are mounted photocopies depicting the sculptures viewed from different angles: they look like wormy parasites observed under magnification, or formations on culture plates.

“It interests me that there are things inside human forms happening which possess independent existence,” the artist notes. “Things which remain unseen or manage.”

On the subject of things she can’t control, the poster for the show displays a photograph of the leaky ceiling at her creative space in the German capital. It was made in the seventies and, she says, was quickly despised by local people since many historic structures got demolished in order to make way for it. The place was in a state of disrepair as the artist – originally from Munich yet raised near Hamburg before arriving in Berlin in her youth – moved in.

This decrepit property proved challenging for her work – she couldn’t hang the sculptures without concern potential harm – yet it also proved compelling. Without any blueprints on hand, it was unclear the way to fix any of the issues that arose. Once an overhead section in Herfeldt’s studio became so sodden it fell apart fully, the single remedy was to replace the damaged part – and so the cycle continued.

At another site, she describes the leaking was so bad that a series of drainage containers got placed in the suspended ceiling in order to redirect leaks to another outlet.

“I realised that the building resembled an organism, an entirely malfunctioning system,” Herfeldt states.

This scenario brought to mind Dark Star, John Carpenter’s debut movie from the seventies featuring a smart spaceship which becomes autonomous. As the exhibition's title suggests from the show’s title – Alice, Laurie & Ripley – other cinematic works influenced to have influenced Herfeldt’s show. The three names refer to the female protagonists in Friday 13th, another scary movie and Alien respectively. She mentions a 1987 essay from a scholar, outlining the last women standing a distinctive cinematic theme – female characters isolated to triumph.

These figures are somewhat masculine, on the silent side and they endure thanks to resourcefulness,” the artist explains of the archetypal final girl. They avoid substances nor sexual activity. Regardless who is watching, everyone can relate to the survivor.”

Herfeldt sees a similarity from these protagonists to her artworks – things that are just about holding in place under strain they’re under. Is the exhibition focused on societal collapse rather than simply leaky ceilings? Because like so many institutions, substances like silicone meant to insulate and guard from deterioration are gradually failing in our environment.

“Completely,” says Herfeldt.

Earlier in her career with sealant applicators, she experimented with other unusual materials. Previous exhibitions included organic-looking pieces using fabric similar to found in within outdoor gear or inside a jacket. Once more, there's the impression such unusual creations seem lifelike – certain pieces are folded resembling moving larvae, some droop heavily from walls or extend through entries attracting dirt from footprints (Herfeldt encourages audiences to interact and soil the works). Like the silicone sculptures, 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 which makes one very attracted to, yet simultaneously they’re very disgusting,” she says grinning. “It tries to be not there, yet in reality highly noticeable.”

Herfeldt's goal isn't pieces that offer comfortable or beauty. Conversely, her intention is to evoke discomfort, strange, or even humor. And if there's something wet dripping from above too, consider yourself the alert was given.