Blood Stereo & Ludo Mich
Blood Stereo Ludo Mich
Blood Stereo & Ludo Mich: linking past and present generations of DIY intuitive expression in a post fluxus ‘big mess’.
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.
Blood Stereo & Ludo Mich: linking past and present generations of DIY intuitive expression in a post fluxus ‘big mess’.
A specially commissioned performance for organ. “The course of the stars were to be put to sound.”
Poems are kisses, fists, and underground rivers. For all these reasons and many more, I am a poet.
A queer black operatic requiem for piano and voice that asks us to stay in the hold of the slave ship, that tries to understand the connection from the slave ship to the prison.
Sachiko’s very simple, pure sine tones and structures. Otomo on double pianos. Filament’s music isn’t composed and it isn’t improvised: it’s a hybrid of the two.
A conversation of intergenerational trans-resistance and anti-racist fierceness between two of the most inspiring public speakers we know.
Out of a dark haze, shafts of light emerge, as the emulsion is scratched from the surface of the film. Simultaneously, out of the black silence, noise and audible scratches bloom into a bright drone.
Gravitational Feel is an engine for intensifying the differentiation of our entanglement, which you continually reprogramme in the mutual rub, shift and lap of its sonic, wooden, steel, textile and human material.
Paul Sharits is one of our all time heroes, and one of the great artist filmmakers of the 20th Century.
Underlying radical transfeminism, as an urgent critique of binary essentialism and fixed identities, is the call for a new kind of thinking that can move between and integrate the truths of all lives in their transformations.
Edinburgh. Beer and smoke befuddled drone/ deadly efforts by Pjorn72 kingpin.
An utterly deep introspection told in aching, weeping guitar lines; melodic, simple, always minimal but somehow entirely epic.