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If you're planning washroom remodeling, it might be wise to avoid engaging this German artist for such tasks.

Indeed, she's an expert using sealant applicators, crafting intriguing artworks out of an unusual medium. However longer you observe the artworks, the clearer one notices that something feels slightly strange.

The dense tubes of sealant Herfeldt forms reach beyond display surfaces where they rest, drooping over the sides towards the floor. Those twisted foam pipes expand before bursting open. A few artworks leave their transparent enclosures entirely, evolving into a collector of debris and fibers. Let's just say the feedback are unlikely to earn favorable.

“I sometimes have this sense that things are alive in a room,” remarks Herfeldt. This is why I turned to this foam material because it has such an organic feel and appearance.”

Indeed there is an element rather body horror regarding the artist's creations, including the suggestive swelling that protrudes, like a medical condition, from the support within the showspace, and the winding tubes of foam that burst like medical emergencies. Displayed nearby, are mounted photocopies of the works captured in multiple views: they look like wormy parasites picked up on a microscope, or formations on a petri-dish.

I am fascinated by is the idea within us occurring which possess a life of their own,” the artist notes. “Things that are invisible or manage.”

On the subject of things she can’t control, the poster for the show includes a picture showing a dripping roof at her creative space in Kreuzberg, Berlin. Constructed built in the early 1970s and according to her, faced immediate dislike by local people as numerous historic structures got demolished for its development. It was already run-down as the artist – a native of that city yet raised north of Hamburg prior to moving to the capital in her youth – took up residence.

This decrepit property caused issues for the artist – placing artworks was difficult her art works anxiously they might be damaged – yet it also proved compelling. Without any blueprints available, nobody had a clue the way to fix the malfunctions that developed. When the ceiling panel within her workspace became so sodden it gave way completely, the single remedy was to replace the panel with a new one – perpetuating the issue.

At another site, Herfeldt says the water intrusion was severe that several collection units got placed in the suspended ceiling to divert the water to a different sink.

“I realised that the structure was like a body, an entirely malfunctioning system,” Herfeldt states.

This scenario reminded her of a classic film, the initial work cinematic piece concerning a conscious ship which becomes autonomous. Additionally, observers may note from the show’s title – a trio of references – more movies have inspired shaping Herfeldt’s show. These titles indicate main characters in the slasher film, another scary movie and Alien in that order. The artist references a 1987 essay by the American professor, which identifies these “final girls” a distinctive cinematic theme – women left alone to save the day.

These figures are somewhat masculine, rather quiet and they endure thanks to resourcefulness,” the artist explains about such characters. “They don’t take drugs nor sexual activity. It is irrelevant the audience's identity, everyone can relate to this character.”

The artist identifies a connection linking these figures and her sculptures – things that are just about holding in place amidst stress they’re under. So is her work really concerning cultural decay than just dripping roofs? Because like so many institutions, such components meant to insulate and guard against harm in fact are decaying around us.

“Oh, totally,” responds the artist.

Prior to discovering her medium in the silicone gun, she experimented with different unconventional substances. Recent shows have involved tongue-like shapes using fabric similar to typical for in insulated clothing or apparel lining. Once more, there's the feeling these peculiar objects might animate – certain pieces are folded as insects in motion, others lollop down on vertical planes or extend through entries collecting debris from touch (The artist invites people to handle and soil the works). As with earlier creations, these nylon creations are also housed in – and escaping from – inexpensive-seeming display enclosures. They’re ugly looking things, which is intentional.

“These works possess a certain aesthetic which makes one very attracted to, yet simultaneously appearing gross,” she says amusedly. “The art aims for invisible, yet in reality extremely obvious.”

Herfeldt is not making work to make you feel relaxation or visual calm. Instead, she aims for unease, odd, or even humor. But if you start to feel water droplets from above additionally, consider yourself the alert was given.