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When considering restroom upgrades, it might be wise to steer clear of employing the sculptor for such tasks.

Certainly, Herfeldt is an expert using sealant applicators, crafting intriguing artworks from this unlikely substance. However longer you look at the artworks, the more it becomes apparent that something is a little strange.

The thick lengths from the foam she produces reach beyond display surfaces where they rest, sagging over the sides to the ground. Those twisted foam pipes swell till they rupture. A few artworks break free from their transparent enclosures completely, becoming a magnet for grime and particles. Let's just say the reviews would not be pretty.

At times I get the feeling that items are alive within a space,” says the German artist. “That’s why I turned to this substance due to its this very bodily texture and feeling.”

Certainly one can detect rather body horror regarding the artist's creations, starting with that protruding shape that protrudes, like a medical condition, off its base within the showspace, and the winding tubes made of silicone which split open like medical emergencies. On one wall, are mounted images of the works captured in multiple views: appearing as wormy parasites picked up on a microscope, or growths in a lab setting.

What captivates me that there are things inside human forms happening that also have a life of their own,” Herfeldt explains. “Things that are invisible or manage.”

Talking of things she can’t control, the exhibition advertisement featured in the exhibition features a photograph of the leaky ceiling in her own studio in Kreuzberg, Berlin. It was made in the seventies as she explains, was quickly despised from residents as numerous old buildings were removed to allow its construction. The place was run-down when Herfeldt – who was born in Munich yet raised in northern Germany prior to moving to the capital as a teenager – took up residence.

The rundown building proved challenging for the artist – it was risky to display the sculptures anxiously they might be damaged – yet it also proved compelling. Without any blueprints accessible, it was unclear how to repair the problems that arose. When the ceiling panel within her workspace got thoroughly soaked it collapsed entirely, the single remedy involved installing it with another – thus repeating the process.

Elsewhere on the property, Herfeldt says the leaking was so bad so multiple drainage containers were set up within the drop ceiling to channel the water to a different sink.

It dawned on me that this place was like a body, a completely flawed entity,” she says.

These conditions evoked memories of Dark Star, the director's first movie from the seventies featuring a smart spaceship that develops independence. As the exhibition's title suggests given the naming – three distinct names – more movies have inspired to have influenced this exhibition. These titles indicate main characters in Friday 13th, Halloween and the extraterrestrial saga respectively. Herfeldt cites a critical analysis written by Carol J Clover, which identifies these surviving characters a distinctive cinematic theme – female characters isolated to overcome.

“She’s a bit tomboyish, reserved in nature and they endure because she’s quite clever,” she elaborates regarding this trope. “They don’t take drugs or engage intimately. And it doesn’t matter who is watching, we can all identify with the survivor.”

She draws a connection between these characters with her creations – things that are just about holding in place despite the pressures they’re under. So is her work really concerning social breakdown than just dripping roofs? As with many structures, such components that should seal and protect us from damage in fact are decaying within society.

“Completely,” responds the artist.

Prior to discovering her medium in the silicone gun, Herfeldt used different unconventional substances. Past displays have involved forms resembling tongues crafted from a synthetic material typical for on a sleeping bag or in coats. Again there is the sense such unusual creations seem lifelike – a few are compressed resembling moving larvae, some droop heavily off surfaces or extend through entries attracting dirt from footprints (She prompts audiences to interact leaving marks on pieces). As with earlier creations, those fabric pieces are also housed in – and escaping from – cheap looking display enclosures. These are unattractive objects, which is intentional.

“The sculptures exhibit a specific look that somehow you feel highly drawn to, and at the same time they’re very disgusting,” she says amusedly. “It attempts to seem invisible, but it’s actually very present.”

Herfeldt's goal isn't art to provide relaxation or beauty. Rather, she aims for discomfort, odd, perhaps entertained. But if you start to feel something wet dripping overhead additionally, don’t say this was foreshadowed.