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.
Miniscule free-noise hissy-fits and broken instrument scrape/ squeal jams from the fools what brought you Giant Tank.
A Festival supporting the struggle for Sex Workers’ Rights: share knowledge, discuss, dance and strategise!
NVA asked Arika to curate and programme the sound aspects of their 2007 Half-Life production in Kilmartin Glen. Arika worked with Toshiya Tsunoda, Lee Patterson, Rhodri Davies and Angharad Davies.
Noise music for the eyes. A 6 screen 16mm projection performance of intense audio and visual stimulus.
Intriguing, underground, Berlin based musicians interested in the borders between music and theatre, language, the visual arts, politics.
Equal parts spectacle, installation and performance, his set for us is a specially developed work, ‘turning’, which features an orchestra of multiple turntables, 4 projections and a collection of old, and, quite probably, misfiring analogue kit.
A testimony to poverty from Chris’s own experiences, and an invitation to engage with an all too typical situation and context through a kind of imaginary listening.
A drone installation populated by flourescent strip lights working in complicity with analogue radios – “all the lights just do their thing”.
How black radical practices of abolition imagine a way out of the caging and mass killing of life.
Italian duo of brothers Maurizio and Roberto Opalio utilising an array of acoustic and electric guitars, various toy-instruments and toy-microphones.
In a moment of social exhaustion, we want to ask how we might care for each other differently. We Can’t Live Without Our Lives is a 5-day exploration of care as a form of struggle and resistance, with communities who embody it.
Introducing and setting intentions for a crip grief transformation and witness altar. A place to sit and breathe, remember our dead, wash our hands and leave offerings to and for loved ones we’ve lost – and for ourselves.
