Steven Anderson
Steven Anderson
Three short performances involving social exchange (jumpers, hats, glasses…) and singing (ballads)
Arika have been creating events since 2001. The Archive is space to share the documentation of our work, over 600 events from the past 20 years. Browse the archive by event, artists and collections, explore using theme pairs, or use the index for a comprehensive overview.
Three short performances involving social exchange (jumpers, hats, glasses…) and singing (ballads)
What would have happened in 1963 if someone from the voguing ball scene going on in Harlem had travelled downtown to perform alongside the early postmoderns at Judson Church?
Julius’ “small music” features simple snatches of found sound, played back through small speakers, often set in bowls of pigment and dirt which shimmies in the vibrations.
What to do about a telethon other than fuck it up? Poet, tarotist, artist, and librarian Cyrée Jarelle Johnson returns to IWBWYE to read the 1980s and ’90s for what those decades were: practice for now.
Low-end drone guitarage army since 1997: nobody has done more on this occasion by a gaggle of sludge-lovers from the Scottish underground.
Lo-fidelity sheets of parinirvanic mangled tone get driven into oblivion by two longstanding gurus of the Northern England primitivist noise.
Sex worker only Collective Art Workshop led by the Hard Labour project from Scotland for Decrim.
Reveling in the geometric, mathematical and perceptual relationship between sound and form, this programme features a landmark work of experimental film in Kubelka’s Arnulf Rainer; a complex, enduring and expressive of structuralist or flicker films.
A freestyle performed conversation for bodies and voices – with the Queen of Krump, the master of Vogue Femme Dramatics and the rising star of Vogue Women’s Performance.
A bodiless treatise on narration, bored speakers, audience misbehaviour and police megaphones, but: is anybody listening?
Sax/Drums duo of raucous, pealing noise, and cries of beguiling lyricism, whispered sax phrases float in a timbral cloud of bowed metal and rumbling toms.
Can we use sound, repetition and difference to personally and collectively engage with space, time and labour?