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If you're planning bathroom renovations, it's advisable to avoid engaging Lisa Herfeldt for such tasks.

Indeed, Herfeldt is highly skilled using sealant applicators, producing fascinating artworks from this unlikely medium. Yet the more observe the artworks, the stronger it becomes apparent that an element seems somewhat strange.

The dense strands of sealant she crafts extend over the shelves where they rest, drooping off the edges below. The knotty silicone strands swell until they split. A few artworks leave the display cases entirely, evolving into a collector for grime and particles. One could imagine the ratings would not be favorable.

There are moments I feel an impression that things seem animated in a room,” states Herfeldt. Hence I turned to silicone sealant as it offers such an organic sensation and look.”

Certainly one can detect rather body horror about these sculptures, including the suggestive swelling that protrudes, hernia-like, from its cylindrical stand within the showspace, or the gut-like spirals from the material that burst resembling bodily failures. Along a surface, are mounted images showing the pieces captured in multiple views: they look like wormy parasites seen in scientific samples, or formations on culture plates.

I am fascinated by that there are things within us taking place which possess their own life,” she says. “Things you can’t see or manage.”

Regarding elements beyond her influence, the exhibition advertisement promoting the event displays a picture of the leaky ceiling at her creative space in the German capital. It was erected decades ago and according to her, faced immediate dislike by local people since many older edifices were torn down in order to make way for it. It was already dilapidated upon her – originally from Munich yet raised north of Hamburg then relocating to Berlin in her youth – moved in.

The rundown building was frustrating for her work – placing artworks was difficult her art works without fearing they might be damaged – however, it was intriguing. Without any blueprints on hand, no one knew methods to address any of the issues that developed. Once an overhead section in Herfeldt’s studio was saturated enough it fell apart fully, the single remedy was to replace the damaged part – and so the cycle continued.

At another site, she describes the water intrusion was severe that a series of shower basins were installed above the false roof in order to redirect the water to a different sink.

It dawned on me that this place acted as a physical form, a totally dysfunctional body,” she says.

This scenario evoked memories of a classic film, John Carpenter’s debut movie from the seventies about an AI-powered spacecraft that develops independence. Additionally, observers may note from the show’s title – three distinct names – more movies have inspired to have influenced the artist's presentation. Those labels indicate main characters in Friday 13th, Halloween and Alien in that order. Herfeldt cites a 1987 essay from a scholar, which identifies these “final girls” an original movie concept – female characters isolated to overcome.

“She’s a bit tomboyish, reserved in nature and she can survive thanks to resourcefulness,” the artist explains of the archetypal final girl. “They don’t take drugs or have sex. It is irrelevant the audience's identity, we can all identify with the survivor.”

She draws a similarity from these protagonists to her artworks – elements that barely staying put under strain they’re under. So is her work more about social breakdown than just dripping roofs? Similar to various systems, such components intended to secure and shield from deterioration are gradually failing around us.

“Completely,” says Herfeldt.

Before finding inspiration in the silicone gun, the artist worked with alternative odd mediums. Past displays have involved forms resembling tongues using a synthetic material found in within outdoor gear or in coats. Similarly, one finds the sense such unusual creations could come alive – some are concertinaed as insects in motion, others lollop down on vertical planes or spill across doorways gathering grime from contact (She prompts audiences to interact leaving marks on pieces). Like the silicone sculptures, those fabric pieces are also housed in – and escaping from – cheap looking transparent cases. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, and really that’s the point.

“These works possess a particular style which makes one compelled by, yet simultaneously appearing gross,” the artist comments grinning. “It attempts to seem invisible, yet in reality extremely obvious.”

The artist does not create art to provide relaxation or visual calm. Rather, she aims for discomfort, odd, or even humor. And if there's a moist sensation on your head too, consider yourself you haven’t been warned.