Masayoshi Urabe
Masayoshi Urabe
Tormented and drawn-out high-pitched yelps and drones, all interleaved with periods of torpid silence.
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.
Tormented and drawn-out high-pitched yelps and drones, all interleaved with periods of torpid silence.
Bringing together artists working with music, sound, film and the moving image, KYTN 2008 saw performances, improvisations, screenings and installations over three days at DCA.
Renouncing the bind of the written word, Chopin’s sound poetry is a magical evocation of the pure powers of the voices, stripped bare of language.
Mirror and Phantom Engineer performing an improvised soundtrack to Benjamin Christensen’s 1922 horror film prototype, Haxan: Witchcraft through the Ages.
Wordless, reverb drenched voice, ghosted electronics, seething and ferocious electronic damage and Patty Waters style vocal mania.
Performances at CCA Glasgow by Keiji Haino, My Cat Is An Alien, Taurpis Tula, Jandek with Richard Youngs and Alex Neilson.
An event exploring anarchic and communal situations of musical creation with MV, EE and The Cherry Blossoms.
What kind of listening and acknowledging do we offer each other? What is it to listen to an ‘elsewhere’, and do we ever do anything else when we listen to music?
Junko’s screaming vocal in a nuanced, piercing duo with Urabe’s fuming and convulsive saxophone, far removed from the codes of musical tradition.
A drone installation populated by flourescent strip lights working in complicity with analogue radios – “all the lights just do their thing”.
Fernando thinks that when maths is deep, it should be simple and able to be explained by hand gestures. By embodying ideas, we’re able to more clearly think about their cultural implications.
A kind of performed installation of searing noise and silence, where we’re not sure who the performer is, when it starts or ends or even who it’s for.