
Hope and Prey
Daniel Menche Vanessa Renwick
Life and death dramas unfold in the snowy American North, using three-screen documentary footage and a soundtrack by KYTN favourite, vocalist Daniel Menche.
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.
Life and death dramas unfold in the snowy American North, using three-screen documentary footage and a soundtrack by KYTN favourite, vocalist Daniel Menche.
A back and forth between Fred and Fernando on the transits and obstructions between mathematics and poetics, and how both help us to think from the other side.
Torrential, wrenching wordless wails, guttural screams and roars, a Haino solo vocal performance.
A historical narrative of the black and latino/a transgender, bisexual, lesbian, and gay House and Ballroom Scene in relation to its artistic practices.
Taking The Futurist Cinema’ manifesto and turning it into software to track ‘aluminium’ online, tracing relationships companies with interests in aluminum had to each other and other agencies.
Glasgow. Power electronic klutz behaviour by Kovorox sound head-honcho. Bruised bodies and broken microphones.
First in a series of workshops for workers and non-workers who care. Does work that asks us to be attentive to the needs of others force us to sell our capacity for kindness?
An occasion for commotion, and a chorus of motions. Choreography rotating your revolutions and then some.
US percussionist, poet, sound artist and instrument maker performing on self-made instruments constructed from industrial materials such as stainless steel, titanium, PVC plastics and various kinds of pipe.
Inspired by Delany’s Aye, and Gomorra. A spookily filmic world where asexual bodies live in the contradiction of their unarousable loneliness and desire for intimacy and contact.
5 days of film, music, discussion and study of our collective incompleteness—arrayed against the colonial ordering of how we come to know the world—practicing how we might exist otherwise, right here and now. Can we start to know and practice the world to come?
Bleu Shut reveals, and allows us to enjoy, our gullibility within the pervasive absurdity of modern life.