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

Truly, she's an expert using sealant applicators, producing fascinating sculptures with a surprising art material. However longer you examine her creations, the clearer it becomes apparent that something is a little strange.

The dense lengths made of silicone Herfeldt forms extend beyond display surfaces supporting them, hanging over the sides to the ground. The gnarled foam pipes swell before bursting open. A few artworks leave the display cases entirely, turning into a magnet for dust and hair. One could imagine the feedback might not get pretty.

“I sometimes have an impression that things possess life inside an area,” states the sculptor. Hence I came to use silicone sealant as it offers this very bodily sensation and look.”

Certainly there is an element rather body horror about the artist's creations, including that protruding shape that protrudes, like a medical condition, off its base at the exhibition's heart, or the gut-like spirals from the material which split open as if in crisis. Displayed nearby, Herfeldt has framed prints showing the pieces captured in multiple views: appearing as wormy parasites observed under magnification, or growths on a petri-dish.

I am fascinated by that there are things in our bodies occurring which possess a life of their own,” the artist notes. “Things which remain unseen or control.”

On the subject of things she can’t control, the exhibition advertisement for the show features a photograph of water damage overhead in her own studio in the German capital. It was made in the seventies and, she says, faced immediate dislike among the community because a lot of older edifices got demolished for its development. By the time in a state of disrepair when Herfeldt – a native of that city although she spent her youth near Hamburg then relocating to Berlin as a teenager – began using the space.

This deteriorating space proved challenging to Herfeldt – it was risky to display her pieces anxiously they might be damaged – but it was also compelling. Lacking architectural drawings available, nobody had a clue how to repair the malfunctions which occurred. After a part of the roof at the artist's area became so sodden it gave way completely, the sole fix involved installing the panel with a new one – perpetuating the issue.

At another site, Herfeldt says the water intrusion was severe so multiple drainage containers were installed within the drop ceiling to divert the water to a different sink.

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

This scenario reminded her of a classic film, the initial work 1974 film featuring a smart spaceship which becomes autonomous. As the exhibition's title suggests through the heading – Alice, Laurie & Ripley – that’s not the only film shaping Herfeldt’s show. Those labels point to the leading women in the slasher film, Halloween plus the sci-fi hit respectively. Herfeldt cites a 1987 essay written by Carol J Clover, that describes these surviving characters a distinctive cinematic theme – female characters isolated to overcome.

These figures are somewhat masculine, reserved in nature and she can survive because she’s quite clever,” she elaborates regarding this trope. They avoid substances or engage intimately. Regardless the audience's identity, we can all identify with this character.”

Herfeldt sees a parallel linking these figures with her creations – objects which only holding in place under strain they face. So is her work focused on social breakdown beyond merely dripping roofs? As with many structures, these materials meant to insulate and guard against harm are actually slowly eroding in our environment.

“Completely,” responds the artist.

Prior to discovering her medium using foam materials, she experimented with alternative odd mediums. Previous exhibitions included tongue-like shapes using the kind of nylon fabric you might see within outdoor gear or apparel lining. Similarly, one finds the impression these peculiar objects could come alive – a few are compressed like caterpillars mid-crawl, some droop heavily from walls blocking passages collecting debris from touch (The artist invites people to handle and soil the works). Like the silicone sculptures, the textile works are similarly displayed in – and escaping from – cheap looking acrylic glass boxes. They’re ugly looking things, and really that’s the point.

“The sculptures exhibit a certain aesthetic which makes one very attracted to, while also they’re very disgusting,” Herfeldt remarks with a smile. “The art aims for absent, but it’s actually very present.”

The artist does not create work to make you feel relaxation or visual calm. Instead, she wants you to feel uncomfortable, strange, maybe even amused. However, should you notice a moist sensation on your head additionally, don’t say you haven’t been warned.