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When considering restroom upgrades, you may want to avoid engaging the sculptor for the job.

Truly, she's a whiz using sealant applicators, producing compelling sculptures out of an unusual art material. Yet the more look at her creations, the stronger one notices that something is a little strange.

The dense tubes of sealant she produces reach past their supports where they rest, sagging downwards to the ground. Those twisted tubular forms bulge until they split. Some creations break free from the display cases entirely, turning into an attractor for dust and hair. It's safe to say the ratings would not be positive.

At times I get the feeling that things seem animated within a space,” states the sculptor. This is why I started using this foam material because it has a distinctly physical feel and appearance.”

Indeed there’s something almost visceral regarding Herfeldt’s work, from the suggestive swelling which extends, similar to a rupture, from its cylindrical stand in the centre of the gallery, to the intestinal coils of foam which split open as if in crisis. On one wall, Herfeldt has framed photocopies showing the pieces viewed from different angles: appearing as squirming organisms picked up on a microscope, or growths on a petri-dish.

What captivates me is the idea in our bodies happening that also have a life of their own,” she says. “Things which remain unseen or manage.”

On the subject of things she can’t control, the promotional image for the show features a photograph of the leaky ceiling at her creative space in the German capital. The building had been built in the early 1970s as she explains, faced immediate dislike among the community because a lot of old buildings got demolished for its development. By the time run-down upon her – who was born in Munich but grew up north of Hamburg before arriving in Berlin during her teens – moved in.

The rundown building was frustrating to Herfeldt – she couldn’t hang the sculptures without fearing they might be damaged – but it was also compelling. With no building plans accessible, it was unclear the way to fix the malfunctions which occurred. After a part of the roof in Herfeldt’s studio got thoroughly soaked it fell apart fully, the single remedy was to replace the panel with a new one – perpetuating the issue.

Elsewhere on the property, she describes the water intrusion was severe that a series of shower basins were installed within the drop ceiling to divert the moisture elsewhere.

“I realised that the building resembled an organism, a totally dysfunctional body,” the artist comments.

These conditions evoked memories of a classic film, the initial work cinematic piece concerning a conscious ship which becomes autonomous. As the exhibition's title suggests from the show’s title – Alice, Laurie & Ripley – that’s not the only film impacting this exhibition. These titles indicate the leading women from a horror classic, the iconic thriller and Alien respectively. Herfeldt cites a critical analysis from a scholar, which identifies these “final girls” as a unique film trope – protagonists by themselves to triumph.

These figures are somewhat masculine, on the silent side enabling their survival thanks to resourcefulness,” the artist explains of the archetypal final girl. “They don’t take drugs nor sexual activity. It is irrelevant who is watching, we can all identify with this character.”

The artist identifies a connection linking these figures to her artworks – elements that barely maintaining position under strain they face. Is the exhibition focused on social breakdown rather than simply leaky ceilings? Because like so many institutions, substances like silicone intended to secure and shield against harm are gradually failing within society.

“Completely,” responds the artist.

Earlier in her career using foam materials, the artist worked with different unconventional substances. Past displays included tongue-like shapes using fabric similar to found in in insulated clothing or inside a jacket. Once more, there's the feeling these strange items seem lifelike – a few are compressed as insects in motion, pieces hang loosely off surfaces or spill across doorways attracting dirt from footprints (Herfeldt encourages audiences to interact leaving marks on pieces). Similar to the foam artworks, these nylon creations are also housed in – and escaping from – inexpensive-seeming acrylic glass boxes. These are unattractive objects, and that's the essence.

“The sculptures exhibit a particular style that somehow you feel compelled by, and at the same time being quite repulsive,” she says amusedly. “The art aims for not there, but it’s actually extremely obvious.”

The artist does not create pieces that offer comfortable or aesthetically soothed. Rather, her intention is to evoke uncomfortable, awkward, or even humor. However, should you notice something wet dripping from above as well, remember you haven’t been warned.