Artists Mitch Robertson and ryanbarrett both want fame and have set out rigorous plans to achieve it. ryanbarrett has adopted a kind of corporate branding and coupled it with an aggressive media campaign. Robertson has made fame itself the subject of his work.

ryanbarrett works with mousetraps. He covers everything with them and then paints layers of acrylic over top so the traps can't snap but appear as though they might. He's proclaimed himself "the mousetrap artist" and even has a mousetrap tattoo. He began working with traps four years ago, exhibiting mousetrap canvases. Objects followed. He mousetrapped suitcases, baby prams, bibles, a Mel Lastman moose.

His moose project, part of a city-wide tourism publicity stunt, was actually one of the better realizations, if only because it was not a covert ad for sponsors. The moose was covered in traps painted metallic silver. It made the six o'clock news for being the only moose the organizers couldn't find a buyer for.

Until recently, though, my favourite thing about ryanbarrett's work is that he sleeps only two hours a night in order to devote time to making it. But novelty has a short fuse, and his repetition hasn't led to creative evolution, just weak redundancy.

But then this past summer there appeared MediaTrap, easily his best work, and one of the best public art installations in Toronto's recent history. The artist stole eight newspaper boxes, covered each in traps, repainted them in their logo colours, and returned them to the street.

Detractors might claim MediaTrap is just another media hook--what better way to get coverage than feature the press in your work? But barrett's boxes could hardly be considered uncritical of the publications they contain, and that all the dailies are given the same treatment eliminates any sense of marketing one-upmanship. MediaTrap functions equally well as guerrilla action, as sculpture, and, since the boxes are restocked with signed newspapers each day, a means for distributing multiples.

Mitch Robertson has long been producing work I have wanted to like more than I have. Early in his career he published a series of trading cards depicting famous Canadian Art Stars, and he was careful to include himself. The piece worked in its gentle mockery of the humble Canadian persona, but his true agenda was clear. He then mimicked the Hollywood maps of homes of the stars, with maps of Toronto that labeled the homes of local artists. Again, this came across as transparent. The maps were not so much a dialogue about art and fame, but about Robertson establishing his own fame.

But then there appears his elegant clothbound book, Stories for Grandchildren, and it is light years ahead of any of his previous output. It is a collection of single line "claims to fame." Robertson compiled over 400 "claims" and wisely avoided including his own. He did, however, set the tone for the work by outlining to participants what was expected with his own examples ("Mitch Robertson once sat on a couch next to Menswear"). Most explore this tenuous link to fame ("Rosie Thom lives next door to Annie Lennox's grandmother"), others highlight trifle achievements (Michael Buckland even fabricates a tale of stealing Scorcese's umbrella).

That Stories for Grandchildren could sit quite comfortably on a table at Urban Outfitters does not detract from its quality. It is both accessible and compelling. The entry by Evan Resnick--"had his picture taken with Oliver North even though he disliked him"--succinctly captures the true nature of fame. That it doesn't require respect, only recognition.