20th annual Christmas Spice

Christmas Spice

December 2 - December 23, 2016

Christmas Spice, 2016
Christmas Spice, 2016
Life of a Craphead: Poisonous Parasitic Vines

Christmas Spice, 2016

Christmas Spice
Christmas Spice, 2016 , tree by Life of a Craphead
view 1
Photography: Cheryl O'Brien

Paul Petro Contemporary Art is pleased to present our 20th Christmas Spice, one of Toronto's original holiday-inspired group exhibitions.

The exhibition is predicated on the idea that someone might acquire or gift their first work of art, ever, for as little as $2.


tree by Life of a Craphead


participating artists:

Stephen Andrews

Julie Beugin

Amy Bowles

Leigh Bridges

Churla Burla

Jane Buyers

Keith Cole

Dennis Day

Tom Dean

Maura Doyle

André Ethier

Gary Evans

FASTWURMS

Lindsay Ferriss

Marie Finkelstein

Robert Flack

Karen Frostitution

Sadko Hadzihasanovic

Andrew Harwood

Nancy Kembry

CN Tower Liquidation

Zachari Logan

Olia Mishchenko

Janet Morton

Will Munro

Garry-Lewis James Osterberg

Shannon Partridge

Andrew James Paterson

Sandy Plotnikoff

David Rasmus

Mélanie Rocan

Gretchen Sankey

Morley Shayuk

Cole Swanson

Ho Tam

Jacqueline Treloar

Trixie & Beever

Julie Voyce

Carol Wainio


More about the tree and Life Of A Craphead:

Christmas Tree Killing Parasitic Vines with Fallen Christmas Tree Needles

The Life of a Craphead Poisonous Parasitic Vines hang like a common Christmas garland, but imagine them slowly wrapping and squeezing the life out of the tree until there is nothing left! Add to the illusion by sprinkling faux dead pine needles throughout the branches or scatter them on the floor. Your plastic Christmas tree seems to have a parasite!

Life of a Craphead is the collaboration of Amy Lam and Jon McCurley since 2006. Their work spans performance art, film, and curation. Some of their projects include The Life of a Craphead Fifty Year Retrospective, 2006-2056 (Art Gallery of Ontario, Toronto, 2013), a fake career retrospective of all the work they will ever make; Bugs (72 min., 2016), their first feature film, which toured Canada and the U.S. this summer with screenings at Night Gallery, Los Angeles; The Western Front, Vancouver; Parsons School for Design, NYC; The Khyber Centre for the Arts, Halifax; and S1, Portland, among others; and Doored, a monthly performance art show and online broadcast, 2012 - present, which has featured work by over 100 artists and has toured to Rotterdam, L.A., and NYC. They recently collaborated with Geoffrey Farmer on a performance of John Cage's Sounds of Venice to launch Geoffrey's work in the Canadian Pavilion at the Venice Biennale 2017.

Life of a Craphead have been artists-in-residence at the Macdowell Colony, U.S.; the Banff Centre, Canada; Department of Safety, Anacortes, U.S.; and Wunderbar, U.K. They are the recipients of grants and awards from the Canada Council for the Arts, the Ontario Arts Council, and the Toronto Arts Council, including a Chalmers Fellowship. Their work has been featured in Canadian Art, C Magazine, and Art in America. They are Chinese and Vietnamese and live and work in Toronto, Canada.


What is Life of a Craphead?

by Sholem Krishtalka

Downstairs at the Art Gallery of Ontario, past the rows of model ships and the glassed-in display of Inuit carvings, there is a wall. It reads “LIFE OF A CRAPHEAD.” This bit of text is flanked by two spotlit photographs, one of a young woman in a wooly cardigan basking in the sunlight, the other a tight crop of a square-jawed young man smiling at the camera. Both photographs have a wholesomeness that spills ever so slightly above the meniscus of the believable. The subjects are Amy Lam and Jon McCurley. They are Life of a Craphead.

Craphead began Life in 2006, ostensibly as a comedy routine. I remember some of those early performances, and comedy is perhaps too tame a word to describe what was going on. Lam and McCurley performed hokey visual gags, but in a way that was aggressive, abrasive: They were testing the audience, flaunting their flaccid shtick, poking and needling at your patience, daring you to find it unfunny. At the time, it seemed dangerous to me, a theatrical kamikaze routine, and thus totally engaging and thrilling.

In the interim, the life of the Crapheads has gotten busier – “We do about three projects a year,” explains McCurley. The two participate actively in the underground theatre scene in Toronto. They are involved with Double Double Land, a performance venue in Kensington Market. They have done performances for the Art Gallery of York University (in one they were strapped to the back of a flatbed truck and transported, Hannibal Lecter-style, up the Allen Road to York University). And now, improbably, they are the artists in residence at the AGO, and they have just opened the exhibition component of their residency: a 50-year retrospective that details the glorious highs of their illustrious career from 2006 to 2056.


It is, naturally, a heavily curated retrospective. According to McCurley, “There were projects that we haven’t done that we haven’t shown.”

“In many ways, they’ve already happened,” McCurley answers.

“There’s a chance, with all of these things, that we’ll think about them too much in anticipation of them,” Lam continues. “One of the things we’ve been saying is that we’ll do more retrospectives. So we might do more retrospectives so that we have more projects that we have to do.”

Their experiments in social engagement and institutional critique will become more daring over the years, and will culminate in two projects: a bank-usurping money-storage operation that will begin in 2046, in which one gives over one’s cash in exchange for food and entertainment; and then, in 2056, the pair will abandon personhood entirely, speaking only through a proxy towel, the Good Towel.

“Only I’ve seen the towel, but I’m not going to tell anyone what the towel looks like. But maybe a clue could be that I found it at the AGO,” says McCurley, evasively.

The pair unveiled the towel at their AGO opening last week, which has led to some theoretical-physical quandaries. “When the show opened, it was in 2056, because the towel was there, and the towel doesn’t exist until 2056,” says McCurley. He pauses to look around the studio provided them by the AGO. “What’s happening now, in here, I don’t know. But here we are, and there’s the towel. What year is it right now – maybe we have to think about that for a moment.”

(this text first appeared in The Globe and Mail, 29 March 2013)