lumps and other bumps.

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She enters to find herself amongst many. She finds her place amongst many.
She does a tap dance: a set of steps called the Shirley Temple.
She spits out 4 white lumps on the floor. She collects them and puts them in the microwave for 2 minutes.

She removes her jacket to expose a lump underneath her cat suit, on her belly.

She asks a man to hold a long mirror up for her.

She looks at her reflection and places her hand on the lump on her belly.
She moves the lump to between her legs.
She moves the lump to her bottom.
She moves the lump to her left breast and places her hands on both her real breast and her fake breast.
She moves the lump to her back and resembles the hunchback of Notre-Dame.
She puts the mirror away and removes the cat suit, exposing a balloon as the lump.
She turns on the TV. On the screen is a video of herself reciting the following text:

I blew this balloon up in September. I’m really happy that it’s still a balloon. I mean of course it’s a balloon but I’m happy it didn’t go away. We can see some deterioration in the buoyancy of the tautness of the form. Over time, every time I come back to the balloon – because sometimes I forget about it, I’m touched by it’s disfigurement – how it becomes tender and more flesh like –more yielding and supple in it’s age. I like to imagine it as a living thing that allows me to feel it and offers me its vulnerability so that I can remember tenderness. And yet I give nothing back. Come sit beside me if you would also like to feel this balloon.

Two women come up to join her but there is only room for one. She feels the balloon for a small while and places the balloon between them. They (the woman and “she”) lean their shoulders into the balloon.
She takes the balloon and tapes it high up on the wall.
She draws a line with the tape that goes down the wall, across the floor and under a table on which there are four-dozen grapefruits.
She crawls under the table, lies on her back and extends her legs out from underneath the table.
She runs the tape over her long blonde wig, which she has been wearing since her entrance.
She knocks very hard on underside of the table. The grapefruits tremble.
She moves her legs as though she is running, or perhaps she is being held down and trying to break free.
She frees herself by taking off the wig and scooting out from under the table.
She gets up and goes back to the table, now taking the corners of the table cloth in her hands, preparing to attempt to pull the table cloth out form underneath the grapefruits.
She attempts and fails. Some grapefruits remain on the table and some have fallen to the floor.
She unpins the following articles from the wall: two yellow latex gloves, a short magenta wig and a pink belt.
She places them on the table
She retrieves a bowl of chocolate candies that was lying on the floor and places them on the table.
She places the white tablecloth over her head and puts the belt around her neck, over the table cloth.

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She puts on the yellow latex gloves and places the wig on her head.
She takes a handful of chocolate candies and attempts to put them in her mouth but because the tablecloth acts as a barrier, she cannot.
She crushes the chocolate candies with her teeth and can taste their sweetness through the cloth but she cannot swallow them. The chocolate stains the cloth and covers her mouth. The watchers are laughing, unsure if they are disgusted or enamoured.
She undoes the belt and removes the tablecloth.
She fetches a large cardboard pole and arranges it so as to make a flag from the white tablecloth.
She stands on the table and waves her flag, displaying the chocolate stain.

She thanks the audience.


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Photos by Christian Bujold

something we consumed for fun because we were bored and in so dying

Emma - Kate Guimond "Something we consumed for fun because we we

Performed as part of M:ST festival in Calgary, Canada, 2014.

Three two-hour performances.

Repetition and interaction are used to render what is initially read as quirky and cute into obsession, drive and need. Out of the novel emerges the abject. A narrative of illness, mourning, and love is manifested while delineating a politic of the body working to bear the complexity of its own history.

photos by Monika Sobczak.

 

(“she”)

MONTREAL, 2014

Performed at the Mainline Theatre.

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(click on image for video)

1.She moves: impulse vs. pose.

2. She writes, “gesture is what falls short of touch” and than erases it with her body.

3. She removes  her bra and dunks it is milk. She puts it in the microwave. Eventually it the space will smell bizarre and the bra will become crusty.

4. She plays a recording of herself listing descriptions of performances she will never do.

5. She pretends like someone is trying to push her to walk underneath a ladder but no one is.

Performed at Mainline Theatre in Montreal, as part of of So You Think That Was Dance, curated by Karen Fennel. 2014.

Documentation by Eduardo Ruiz Vergara.

digestion/liquidation

 

digestion/liquidation.          HC8_5166

Performed as part of FADO’s emerging artist series, 11:45. Curated by Kate Berry.    X-Space Cultural Center, Toronto. 2014.

dig.liq.small   dig.liq.small

digestion/liquidation regards two possible meanings of the word digest:

  1. To assimilate material mentally or physically (verb)
  2. A comprehensive and systematic compilation of information or material often condensed[1].(noun)

dig.liq.small  dig.liq.5

I work with these meanings in tandem by committing two tasks that unfold simultaneously but at separate paces.

1. I remove my dress and I soak it in milk. I put it back on, dripping. I repeat this action every time the second action is done. I use milk because its nutritious attributes are questionable. It is white, silky and from the breast of Mother, but when it is warm and crusting on my body it is foul. It is processed, pumped with hormones and usually makes me bloated. I was allergic to my own mother’s milk. I leave myself enough time to cease dripping and to assimilate the complexity of my desire to commit this action before I resolve to do it again.

2. I record a 60-minute cassette of me repeating each of the following set of words:

yes/you do/good/please/ body/my favourite.

In total I make six cassettes.

The single word, repeated, acts as a constant variable in an experiment. By some means I have created a situation where the repeated word is also the manipulated variable. It is manipulating itself. One word is felt and understood in infinite ways. Side by side, each utterance compares their meanings, distinguished in tone and breath.  Meaning is lost and then found again. The word ceases to be English. I feel the word to be the guttural syllable of a lost language. Here, I locate the epitome of multidimensional signage that I seek in my work’s process. When I repeat the word over and over for 60 minutes, I tell all the stories I have to tell.  When I listen back my stories become very far away in time and space. I have emptied (liquidated) myself.

 

Photos by Henry Chan.