“Tourbe Chunky” — Guillaume Adjutor Provost in Conversation with Toshio Matsumoto

Bile gathered at the bottom of my esophagus; I could taste it. “Câlice,” I muttered into the concrete of a Montreal alleyway. As I bent my chest to my legs, I folded my torso strategically to compress my stomach, easing the retching that would soon make focusing on anything aside from my heaving core impossible. My legs were splayed like a giraffe bending to drink water in the hopes of reducing the acidic splash, something one should consider when throwing up on concrete.

A series of resin vomit (2020) are splattered around the gallery space, reflecting the stark and industrial fluorescent light of TRUCK Contemporary Art. Each puddle contains a collection of different expired dried goods and coins. Bending over to take a closer look at their contents, I’m reminded of that familiar, strategic position I took time and time again to quell my nauseated stomach. Swimming within the resin are small anchovies, corn, beans, and pocket change. The vomit retch series evokes a visceral horror as I move within the space with a thought: “Someone was sick here.”