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Should you be thinking about bathroom renovations, it's advisable not to choose engaging this German artist for such tasks.

Certainly, Herfeldt is an expert in handling foam materials, crafting fascinating creations with a surprising substance. But the more examine her creations, the clearer you realise that an element is a little unnerving.

Those hefty strands from the foam Herfeldt forms extend over the shelves where they rest, sagging over the sides below. The knotty tubular forms bulge before bursting open. A few artworks leave the display cases entirely, becoming an attractor for grime and particles. Let's just say the feedback are unlikely to earn positive.

At times I get this sense that items are alive in a room,” remarks Herfeldt. This is why I came to use this foam material as it offers such an organic feel and appearance.”

Indeed there’s something somewhat grotesque about the artist's creations, including the suggestive swelling jutting out, hernia-like, off its base in the centre of the gallery, and the winding tubes from the material that rupture like medical emergencies. Along a surface, the artist presents photocopies showing the pieces viewed from different angles: resembling squirming organisms seen in scientific samples, or colonies in a lab setting.

“It interests me is the idea inside human forms occurring that seem to hold a life of their own,” she says. “Things which remain unseen or manage.”

On the subject of elements beyond her influence, the poster promoting the event displays an image showing a dripping roof within her workspace in the German capital. The building had been erected decades ago as she explains, faced immediate dislike among the community because a lot of old buildings got demolished in order to make way for it. It was already in a state of disrepair when Herfeldt – originally from Munich although she spent her youth in northern Germany prior to moving to the capital during her teens – began using the space.

The rundown building was frustrating for the artist – she couldn’t hang the sculptures without concern they might be damaged – but it was also fascinating. Lacking architectural drawings accessible, no one knew methods to address the problems that developed. After a part of the roof within her workspace got thoroughly soaked it gave way completely, the only solution meant swapping the damaged part – perpetuating the issue.

Elsewhere on the property, the artist explains the water intrusion was severe that a series of collection units were installed in the suspended ceiling to divert the moisture elsewhere.

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

These conditions reminded her of Dark Star, John Carpenter’s debut 1974 film concerning a conscious ship that develops independence. As the exhibition's title suggests through the heading – a trio of references – that’s not the only film impacting the artist's presentation. Those labels point to main characters from a horror classic, another scary movie and Alien respectively. She mentions a 1987 essay written by Carol J Clover, which identifies these “final girls” a distinctive cinematic theme – female characters isolated to overcome.

“She’s a bit tomboyish, reserved in nature enabling their survival because she’s quite clever,” says Herfeldt regarding this trope. They avoid substances or engage intimately. Regardless who is watching, we can all identify with the survivor.”

She draws a connection between these characters to her artworks – things that are just about staying put under strain they face. Is the exhibition more about cultural decay beyond merely water damage? Similar to various systems, such components that should seal and protect from deterioration are actually slowly eroding within society.

“Oh, totally,” says Herfeldt.

Prior to discovering her medium using foam materials, she experimented with alternative odd mediums. Previous exhibitions featured tongue-like shapes crafted from fabric similar to typical for within outdoor gear or inside a jacket. Similarly, one finds the feeling these peculiar objects might animate – a few are compressed as insects in motion, some droop heavily from walls or extend through entries attracting dirt from footprints (She prompts audiences to interact and dirty her art). Like the silicone sculptures, the textile works are similarly displayed in – and escaping from – budget-style transparent cases. These are unattractive objects, and that's the essence.

“They have a certain aesthetic that draws viewers highly drawn to, while also being quite repulsive,” she says amusedly. “It tries to be not there, yet in reality extremely obvious.”

Herfeldt is not making art to provide ease or beauty. Conversely, she wants you to feel discomfort, awkward, perhaps entertained. However, should you notice water droplets on your head too, don’t say this was foreshadowed.