‘Kill your darlings’: Exploring Death and Life in Performance Art Piece ‘Death Cleaning’

Roman Susan’s performance piece “Death Cleaning” isn’t a funeral, but a celebration of life.

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The performance piece, created by Carole McCurdy and Paul Escriva, was performed by McCurdy and Judith Harding. (Kayla Tanada | The Phoenix)
The performance piece, created by Carole McCurdy and Paul Escriva, was performed by McCurdy and Judith Harding. (Kayla Tanada | The Phoenix)

A trembling hand protrudes from a pile of crumpled paper. Fingers grasp at the air, almost beckoning the audience toward it. 

Behind the hand, a woman sits on a plush maroon armchair, scribbling on a clipboard. Occasionally she sighs, eventually turning to watch the body beneath the paper slowly breathe. 

Created by Carole McCurdy and Paul Escriva, “Death Cleaning” was performance art hosted by Roman Susan, an art non-profit located at 1224 W. Loyola Ave. The piece, acted out by McCurdy and Judith Harding, was performed on three evenings — Nov. 24, Nov. 26 and Dec. 1.

Projected on the wall, the definition of death cleaning welcomed the audience — “disposing of material possessions while you are alive in order to spare others that effort after you die.”

During the performance’s seance sequence, the building’s floor plan was projected on the wall as the script briefly mentioned moments of the building’s history — like the dry cleaning business that used to inhabit the gallery space. 

In the wake of Loyola’s acquisition of the property, Escriva said the inclusion of the building’s history was a way to protest against the university.

“The performance was also kind of an act of resistance for me because it talks about the lack of responsibility to the community that Loyola has with the acquisition of the space,” Escriva said. “By displacing people that have been in the building for years and years, not willing to engage with ideas around the idea that maybe an art gallery would be something that’s valuable for their students.”

During the performance, McCurdy, dressed in a white jumpsuit, writhed around in the crumpled documents of her life, including letters from ex-boyfriends, newspaper clippings and essays. Selected quotes and old photos of people and places were projected on the wall. 

A voiceover recorded by Harding spoke to McCurdy while Harding herself remained in the armchair, mouthing along to the audio.

“You love cleaning — it’s an opportunity to play in the dirt,” the voiceover said.

An autobiographical piece, the set of “Death Cleaning” includes papers from McCurdy’s life. (Courtesy of Roman Susan)

McCurdy said the macabre theme of “Death Cleaning” was largely autobiographical. At 61 years old, McCurdy described herself as an “endling” — someone with no next of kin. 

McCurdy said she started death cleaning to declutter her life and prevent piling responsibilities on the executor of her will.

“Sometimes it’s a little painful,” McCurdy said. “Sometimes it’s kind of hilarious because I look at some of the ridiculous things that I’ve saved — like, why did I have a collection of those little tabs that close a bag of bread?”

For Escriva, the work of “Death Cleaning” was a way to grieve the death of his friend Chilli Pepper, a Chicago-based LGBTQ+ advocate and drag queen — though she preferred the term “female impersonator,” according to Chicago Magazine.

“I was using the development of ‘Death Cleaning’ as a way to grapple with hard feelings about losing in small ways,” Escriva said. “Dying is a process, so it takes time.”

Dying is something Escriva is familiar with, as he said he’s witnessed two cycles of death — during the 1980s phase of the AIDS epidemic and today as his friends grow older. Escriva said these life experiences show up repeatedly in his artwork, which frequently engages with death.

“I’m essentially always re-asking the question — what do you have when everything’s gone?” Escriva said.

But “Death Cleaning” isn’t just about death, it’s also about life, according to Escriva.

“I think the whole thing is that life is a complicated, or nuanced, place,” Escriva said. “You collect these experiences as you go along. And that’s the metaphor in ‘Death Cleaning’ because it’s about all these collected memories. ‘Death Cleaning’ is about letting go of the physicality of a memory that’s part of your existence, that’s helped formed you.”

The physical nature of “Death Cleaning” is essential because the piece is given meaning through the materiality, according to McCurdy.

For John-Michael Korpal, Escriva’s partner and audience member, the materiality of the performance prompted reflection for him.

“It’s interesting how memories are documented, and they get stacked up and you get lost,” Korpal said. “There’s that picture or that note from 20 years ago and it’s right in front of you and you have to deal with it again, and that’s either a good or bad thing.”

Harding said the autobiographical nature of the piece guided how she performed it, taking on the roles of McCurdy’s mother, therapist, medium and attorney.

“Given my role in this piece as kind of her support, I would follow her,” Harding said. “It was rare that I would take the lead on anything because I was there to support her, to shadow her, to embrace her.”

In moments of the piece, Harding would pet McCurdy’s hair, massage her shoulders or balance McCurdy on her lap. 

Harding said she played the roles of McCurdy’s mother, therapist, medium and attorney. (Courtesy of Roman Susan)

Both McCurdy and Harding said the performance’s fluidity encouraged improvisation.

“You’re moving through the performance that has been set, and you’re navigating through it but it’s not exactly the same landscape,” McCurdy said. “Which I think is for the best.”

Near the end of the performance, a seance was conducted with audience members reaching to hold each other’s hands. A voiceover recorded by Escriva conversed with two spirits called Honey and the Nameless Man with Memory Loss Who Still Has Music. 

“The membrane between the living and the dead is permeable,” Escriva’s voiceover said at the beginning of the seance.

Sitting on the armchair, Harding embodied Escriva, mouthing along to Escriva’s words and answering the phantom’s calls on a children’s rotary phone.

While on call with the Nameless Man with Memory Loss Who Still Has Music, the forgetful spirit asked to be told his name even though he won’t remember it.

“Forgetting must offer a kind of peace,” Escriva’s voiceover said.

“It is peaceful here but not quiet,” the Nameless Man said in response.

For Harding, one standout moment in the performance was when McCurdy first emerged from the pile of crumpled paper and gazed at Harding, her back to the audience.

“It was a gaze, it wasn’t a stare, and it was quite deep,” Harding said. “It reminded me of how babies or infants can look at their mother’s face and there’s a gaze, a child’s gaze, that just drinks in their mother’s face.”

Audience member Ginger Farley said the parental theme of the performance also resonated with her.

“I was thinking about my parents,” Farley said. “I told Carole I was recalling the afternoon after my mother died, when all her grandchildren were going through her closet and trying on her clothes in the bedroom, and my father delighting in all of it.”

“Death Cleaning” closed with Harding reading aloud McCurdy’s fictitious will, gifting each item to a different person in the crowd.

McCurdy’s will allowed the recipients to do anything they wanted with the gifts, including donating them to second-hand stores like The Brown Elephant. She only asked the items weren’t disposed of or destroyed.

Audience members received ping-pong paddles, a copy of the U.S. Constitution, a box of flatware and a jewelry box with postcards, fishing lures and fish hooks.

The only bequest not fulfilled was a pair of faux-snakeskin boots in a women’s size eight, as no one’s feet fit the bill.

McCurdy said the reading of the will was in connection to the quote written on the Roman Susan website — “Go ahead, kill your darlings — they’re immortal anyway.”

“The idea of bringing them here and bequeathing them was to kill the darling — to get rid of it,” McCurdy said before reaching for the boots. “But they keep coming back.”

At the end of the evening, the audience was left with a message frequently displayed on the wall during the performance — “Be responsible, be kind, be ruthless.”


Roman Susan’s current installation “Sound Bleeds” will run Dec. 9-21 and is on view from the street after dark.

  • Catherine Meyer is a third-year student majoring in history. She works as the Managing Editor and Horoscope Editor for The Phoenix. She enjoys writing humorous essays and feature articles about the people of Rogers Park. When asked what the weekly horoscopes will be, she’ll answer, “Pick up an issue of The Phoenix on Wednesday and see.”

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