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If you're planning bathroom renovations, it's advisable not to choose hiring Lisa Herfeldt for such tasks.

Certainly, Herfeldt is a whiz with a silicone gun, creating compelling artworks out of an unusual substance. However longer you observe the artworks, the clearer one notices that an element seems somewhat unnerving.

Those hefty strands of sealant she crafts extend past display surfaces on which they sit, hanging downwards below. Those twisted tubular forms bulge before bursting open. Certain pieces break free from the display cases fully, turning into an attractor for grime and particles. It's safe to say the feedback would not be positive.

“I sometimes have this sense that objects possess life in a room,” states the sculptor. “That’s why I came to use this substance as it offers this very bodily feel and appearance.”

Indeed there’s something almost visceral in these sculptures, starting with the phallic bulge that protrudes, hernia-like, from its cylindrical stand in the centre of the gallery, or the gut-like spirals of foam which split open resembling bodily failures. Displayed nearby, are mounted photocopies depicting the sculptures seen from various perspectives: resembling wormy parasites seen in scientific samples, or colonies on culture plates.

What captivates me that there are things inside human forms occurring which possess their own life,” the artist notes. Elements that are invisible or control.”

Talking of elements beyond her influence, the promotional image featured in the exhibition displays an image of water damage overhead in her own studio located in Berlin. It was erected decades ago as she explains, was quickly despised by local people because a lot of old buildings got demolished in order to make way for it. The place was run-down as the artist – originally from Munich yet raised north of Hamburg before arriving in Berlin during her teens – moved in.

The rundown building caused issues for the artist – she couldn’t hang the sculptures anxiously risk of ruin – but it was also intriguing. Lacking architectural drawings available, nobody had a clue the way to fix the problems that developed. After a part of the roof in Herfeldt’s studio became so sodden it gave way completely, the only solution meant swapping it with another – thus repeating the process.

At another site, she describes the leaking was so bad that a series of shower basins got placed in the suspended ceiling to channel leaks to another outlet.

“I realised that the structure acted as a physical form, an entirely malfunctioning system,” she says.

This scenario reminded her of a classic film, the director's first cinematic piece featuring a smart spaceship that develops independence. And as you might notice through the heading – Alice, Laurie & Ripley – more movies have inspired impacting Herfeldt’s show. The three names refer to the leading women from a horror classic, the iconic thriller plus the sci-fi hit respectively. Herfeldt cites a critical analysis from a scholar, outlining these “final girls” a distinctive cinematic theme – female characters isolated to overcome.

These figures are somewhat masculine, on the silent side and they endure because she’s quite clever,” says Herfeldt of the archetypal final girl. “They don’t take drugs nor sexual activity. It is irrelevant who is watching, everyone can relate to this character.”

She draws a similarity linking these figures and her sculptures – things that are just about maintaining position under strain they face. So is her work focused on social breakdown beyond merely leaky ceilings? Similar to various systems, these materials intended to secure and shield against harm are gradually failing within society.

“Absolutely,” responds the artist.

Prior to discovering her medium in the silicone gun, the artist worked with other unusual materials. Recent shows featured organic-looking pieces using fabric similar to typical for in insulated clothing or inside a jacket. Again there is the feeling these peculiar objects seem lifelike – some are concertinaed resembling moving larvae, others lollop down from walls blocking passages collecting debris from touch (The artist invites audiences to interact and dirty her art). Like the silicone sculptures, those fabric pieces are similarly displayed in – leaving – inexpensive-seeming transparent cases. They’re ugly looking things, and really that’s the point.

“They have a particular style that draws viewers compelled by, yet simultaneously appearing gross,” she says with a smile. “It tries to be invisible, but it’s actually extremely obvious.”

Herfeldt is not making pieces that offer ease or aesthetically soothed. Instead, she aims for unease, strange, or even humor. But if you start to feel a moist sensation overhead too, remember this was foreshadowed.