“I DON’T WANNA PLAY THIS GAME ANYMORE I’M TAKING MY BALL AND GOING HOME.”
The stop sign red, Helvetica bold, all-caps text is set on a milky background in the lightbox next to the entrance of the plumb, a literal underground artist-run gallery in Toronto. This is artist Kelly Mark’s final work. It was installed posthumously in April by her friend, the artist and plumb co-founder, Anthony Douglas Cooper.
Once a prolific artist, Mark mounted one — and sometimes, four or five — solo exhibitions yearly for 26 years (with the exception of 2013). But she hadn’t made work these past seven years despite encouragement from Cooper and other peers. Then, one day last winter, she had a small, coffee-ringed piece of paper ripped from a coil-bound notebook pinned to her corkboard with the phrase written in red ink.
Mark received medical assistance in dying on Feb. 21. She was 58 years old. She was known as a “working-class conceptualist.” Diner salt shakers, her cat Ruddi, the aura of television screens, cigarettes, the statement “I really should,” tally marks and mischief recur throughout her work, which included sculpture, video, installation, drawing, photography, sound, multiples, performance and public interventions. She was an influential artist in her hometown of Toronto and across the country, exhibiting at the National Gallery of Canada and representing the nation at the Biennale of Sydney and the Liverpool Biennale.
Now, a rare occurrence is underway: Nine Toronto galleries have come together to pay tribute to the late artist. Earlier this month, Everything & Nothing, the multi-site survey commemorating the life and work of Mark, opened with a show at Olga Korper Gallery. The programming ranges from exhibitions, screenings, presentations, mailouts and events presented by Olga Korper Gallery, the plumb, Joys, Pumice Raft, Vtape, The Goldfarb Gallery, the Museum of Contemporary Art Toronto Canada (MOCA), Art Metropole and goodwater gallery. The festivities are set to continue into the new year.
Entering the rusted doors of Olga Korper Gallery (which represents Mark’s estate), Knife Collection (1995-2002) glimmers ahead. The set of stolen stainless steel knives, amassed by Mark since her days in Halifax at the Nova Scotia College of Art and Design, is displayed on a grid of magnetic strips. A gallery visitor is overheard saying — with delight and suspicion — that she recognizes one of the butter knives. Cooper recalls the cutlery stored in a toolbox from when he helped Mark move, but he hadn’t seen it in this form until installing the piece.
Another work, Day In & Day Out (2018), a record of Mark’s working hours in the studio, is a self-portrait and diary of her blue-collar work ethic. Mark logged in and out on a vintage punch clock in her home studio that constantly, continuously ticked. Originally conceived to end when she reached the age of retirement, now even more so, the work reminds us of our finite time and mortality.
Cooper recalls that in her final days, Mark was flattered by the plans for this exhibition, and she trusted him along with the team at Olga Korper Gallery to undertake the project.
“Only a true fan could have put this [exhibition] together,” says Taiga Korper Bentley, owner and director of Olga Korper Gallery. “Even though it’s all her own work, I don’t believe Kelly could have done this. She was very humble, and this is an exhibition built by someone who loved her and thought she was a rock star. And she looks like a rock star.
“What’s happening in the city right now is entirely because of Kelly’s relationships with so many people in the arts, and Anthony’s love and loyalty to her. It is an unbelievable love letter to her career. ”
It’s often said that artists live on through their work. But, like everyone else, artists are remembered by those who are still here. “Kelly had a lot of goodwill toward her, and people were very happy to help out with this project,” says Cooper.
“Rather than isolating the experience of grief around this loss, we had an opportunity to come together in a poignant way, to work together and exchange stories, images and Kelly-isms with others, and even introduce her work to new audiences,” says Danica Pinteric, who runs the independent gallery Joys, where a selection of Mark’s sound and video works will soon be on view. “Her ability to locate the profundity of everyday actions can teach us a lot about both living and dying.”
Each site invites visitors to experience a different aspect of Mark’s work. In the stairwell of MOCA, the techno track I Really blasts over the speakers. Created in 2010, after receiving permission from Mark, Amsterdam DJ and music producer Sandrien sampled Mark’s voice from a 2002 audio work in which she lists 1,000 sentences beginning with the phrase “I really should.” It’s “conceptual art meets club music, routine meets abandon,” says Rui Mateus Amaral, artistic director and curator at MOCA. It has already encouraged dancing, he says.
Buttons and books are on display at Art Metropole, where Mark served as a board member. Parker Kay, who works as an archivist in his day job and runs the art space Pumice Raft, will be exhibiting a selection of Mark’s notebooks. “They’re not the work of art, but they are the work,” says Kay. The 8.5-by-11-inch black hardcover sketchbooks contain stream of consciousness writing, concert ticket stubs, photographs of friends at openings, notes about goings-on in the Toronto art scene, lists of possible titles, seeds of projects and newspaper clippings. These books are a record of the artist’s process and hold her inner monologue in the studio.
Cooper wishes he could know what exactly Mark would tweak in Everything & Nothing. With a laugh, he recalls that there was always something Mark wanted to tweak, and talking about adjustments and ideas filled their visits.
Now, her work is complete, and it’s up to us to visit.
The Kelly Mark survey exhibition Everything & Nothing runs from Oct. 4 to Jan. 31, 2026, at sites across Toronto. More information about events, dates and locations can be found here.
