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When considering restroom upgrades, you may want to avoid engaging Lisa Herfeldt to handle it.

Indeed, Herfeldt is an expert in handling foam materials, creating fascinating creations with a surprising art material. But the more examine these pieces, the more it becomes apparent that something is a little off.

Those hefty lengths made of silicone she crafts extend over their supports where they rest, hanging off the edges to the ground. The knotty foam pipes bulge till they rupture. A few artworks escape their acrylic glass box homes completely, turning into a magnet for grime and particles. It's safe to say the feedback would not be positive.

At times I get this sense that objects seem animated in a room,” states Herfeldt. This is why I came to use this substance because it has a distinctly physical feel and appearance.”

Indeed one can detect somewhat grotesque in the artist's creations, starting with the suggestive swelling which extends, like a medical condition, off its base in the centre of the gallery, to the intestinal coils of foam which split open as if in crisis. On one wall, are mounted prints showing the pieces seen from various perspectives: they look like microscopic invaders observed under magnification, or growths on culture plates.

What captivates me that there are things within us occurring which possess their own life,” the artist notes. “Things you can’t see or manage.”

Regarding things she can’t control, the promotional image promoting the event includes an image showing a dripping roof within her workspace located in Berlin. It was erected decades ago as she explains, was instantly hated from residents since many old buildings were torn down to allow its construction. By the time run-down upon her – a native of that city although she spent her youth north of Hamburg prior to moving to the capital in her youth – took up residence.

The rundown building proved challenging for her work – it was risky to display her pieces without concern risk of ruin – but it was also intriguing. Lacking architectural drawings available, no one knew how to repair the problems that developed. When the ceiling panel within her workspace became so sodden it fell apart fully, the only solution was to replace the panel with a new one – and so the cycle continued.

In a different area, Herfeldt says the leaking was so bad that a series of drainage containers were set up in the suspended ceiling to channel leaks to another outlet.

I understood that this place acted as a physical form, a completely flawed entity,” Herfeldt states.

This scenario reminded her of the sci-fi movie, the director's first 1974 film featuring a smart spaceship which becomes autonomous. And as you might notice given the naming – Alice, Laurie & Ripley – other cinematic works influenced to have influenced this exhibition. The three names refer to the leading women in the slasher film, another scary movie and Alien in that order. Herfeldt cites a 1987 essay from a scholar, that describes these “final girls” as a unique film trope – women left alone to triumph.

“She’s a bit tomboyish, rather quiet and she can survive because she’s quite clever,” the artist explains regarding this trope. No drug use occurs nor sexual activity. And it doesn’t matter who is watching, we can all identify with this character.”

The artist identifies a similarity linking these figures with her creations – things that are just about holding in place amidst stress they’re under. So is her work focused on societal collapse beyond merely leaky ceilings? Because like so many institutions, substances like silicone that should seal and protect us from damage are actually slowly eroding within society.

“Oh, totally,” she confirms.

Prior to discovering her medium using foam materials, the artist worked with alternative odd mediums. Previous exhibitions featured organic-looking pieces crafted from a synthetic material found in on a sleeping bag or apparel lining. Again there is the feeling such unusual creations might animate – certain pieces are folded resembling moving larvae, some droop heavily from walls blocking passages collecting debris from touch (Herfeldt encourages viewers to touch and soil the works). Like the silicone sculptures, the textile works also occupy – leaving – budget-style display enclosures. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, and really that’s the point.

“The sculptures exhibit a certain aesthetic that draws viewers very attracted to, yet simultaneously appearing gross,” the artist comments amusedly. “It attempts to seem invisible, but it’s actually extremely obvious.”

Herfeldt is not making art to provide comfortable or beauty. Rather, she wants you to feel unease, awkward, maybe even amused. And if there's water droplets from above too, consider yourself you haven’t been warned.