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When considering bathroom renovations, it might be wise not to choose engaging Lisa Herfeldt for such tasks.

Certainly, she's a whiz in handling foam materials, creating compelling artworks out of an unusual substance. Yet the more examine the artworks, the more one notices a certain aspect seems somewhat unnerving.

Those hefty tubes of sealant she crafts extend over display surfaces supporting them, drooping off the edges to the ground. The knotty silicone strands expand before bursting open. A few artworks leave the display cases completely, becoming an attractor for grime and particles. It's safe to say the ratings would not be favorable.

“I sometimes have an impression that things seem animated inside an area,” says the sculptor. Hence I turned to this substance as it offers such an organic texture and feeling.”

Indeed there is an element rather body horror in the artist's creations, including the phallic bulge jutting out, like a medical condition, off its base within the showspace, or the gut-like spirals of foam that burst as if in crisis. Displayed nearby, are mounted images of the works viewed from different angles: they look like wormy parasites observed under magnification, or growths on culture plates.

“It interests me is how certain elements inside human forms occurring that seem to hold independent existence,” Herfeldt explains. Phenomena that are invisible or manage.”

On the subject of things she can’t control, the poster for the show displays a photograph of the leaky ceiling at her creative space in Kreuzberg, Berlin. It was built in the early 1970s and according to her, faced immediate dislike by local people as numerous older edifices got demolished to allow its construction. The place was in a state of disrepair when Herfeldt – a native of that city but grew up near Hamburg prior to moving to the capital in her youth – took up residence.

This deteriorating space proved challenging for the artist – she couldn’t hang her pieces without concern potential harm – but it was also intriguing. Without any blueprints on hand, nobody had a clue methods to address the problems which occurred. Once an overhead section in Herfeldt’s studio got thoroughly soaked it fell apart fully, the only solution involved installing it with another – thus repeating the process.

In a different area, the artist explains the water intrusion was severe that several collection units were installed within the drop ceiling in order to redirect leaks to another outlet.

“I realised that the structure was like a body, a totally dysfunctional body,” Herfeldt states.

These conditions evoked memories of Dark Star, John Carpenter’s debut cinematic piece concerning a conscious ship that takes on a life of its own. And as you might notice from the show’s title – Alice, Laurie & Ripley – that’s not the only film impacting the artist's presentation. The three names point to the leading women from a horror classic, another scary movie plus the sci-fi hit respectively. Herfeldt cites a 1987 essay written by Carol J Clover, that describes the last women standing a distinctive cinematic theme – protagonists by themselves to overcome.

These figures are somewhat masculine, on the silent side enabling their survival due to intelligence,” the artist explains of the archetypal final girl. No drug use occurs nor sexual activity. Regardless the viewer’s gender, all empathize with this character.”

The artist identifies a connection from these protagonists and her sculptures – things that are just about maintaining position despite the pressures they’re under. Is the exhibition more about social breakdown rather than simply water damage? As with many structures, such components that should seal and protect us from damage are gradually failing within society.

“Oh, totally,” responds the artist.

Earlier in her career using foam materials, Herfeldt used alternative odd mediums. Previous exhibitions featured tongue-like shapes made from fabric similar to typical for on a sleeping bag or apparel lining. Again there is the feeling these peculiar objects seem lifelike – certain pieces are folded as insects in motion, some droop heavily off surfaces or extend through entries attracting dirt from footprints (She prompts audiences to interact leaving marks on pieces). Like the silicone sculptures, these nylon creations are similarly displayed in – and breaking out of – inexpensive-seeming acrylic glass boxes. These are unattractive objects, and really that’s the point.

“The sculptures exhibit a particular style that somehow you feel compelled by, while also appearing gross,” Herfeldt remarks amusedly. “It tries to be absent, however, it is highly noticeable.”

Herfeldt is not making pieces that offer comfortable or visual calm. Rather, her intention is to evoke uncomfortable, strange, or even humor. However, should you notice something wet dripping from above additionally, consider yourself the alert was given.