
Mutual Instruments
Fred Moten Miss Prissy
Can our favourite Vegas-born poet of prophetic blackness and a South Central transmuter of social rage into beauty feel through each other?
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.
Can our favourite Vegas-born poet of prophetic blackness and a South Central transmuter of social rage into beauty feel through each other?
Location: between: the abandoned site of Parker House (ex-council office building) that became a student accommodation regeneration project, off the Dudhope roundabout; Bell Street Car Park entrance ramp and; the awkward (and otherwise used/ used otherwise) space left over between the back of Tesco’s and DW Sports on the Murraygate.
The queer archiving of traumatic cultural memory from one of the leading voices working with queer archives.
The struggle for sex workers’ rights and how we can understand it in the continuum of care work and other forms of invisibilised and precarious work.
A chorister attempting to sing Vivaldi, with live accompaniment, while trampolining for 20 minutes.
A chat, with examples (Zola, H. P. Lovecraft, Hammer Horror), about blackness and the sheer stupid thickness of what has no profundity whatsoever.
A black hole of dense heaviosity, full of slow motion riffage, tectonic pummel and massive planet destroying rock.
When one calls a strike, who hears the call, who attunes and listens to it? How to listen to the call of a strike? What prevents one from hearing this call or stops one from listening to it?
In this response to the Self Cancellation project, Lee Patterson dissolves medicine in glasses of water and explores the sonic content.
Summing up of the investigations with a reflection on what has been done that week and what could be done the next.
Individual experience separated by physical boundaries (of space, time or ability) suggested as communities of collective experience by (perhaps voyeuristic) artists.
Dworkin asks: What would a non-expressive poetry look like? A poetry of intellect rather than emotion?