The Body is a Sanctuary That Floats
Storyboard P
A performance by Storyboard P – one of the greatest Afrofuturist dancers on the planet.
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.
A performance by Storyboard P – one of the greatest Afrofuturist dancers on the planet.
First live show outside the USA featuring one-off film pieces and live theatre from the ringleaders of the ‘weird new America’ psych folk explosion.
The mutability of the body and the mobility of identity: queered pop culture, drag, lip-sync and performance.
Each film in this programme celebrates process; the decay of emulsion, the properties of dust and dirt, the manipulation of time. Post the dawn of the digital age, we reflect on our love of the film form, celluloid as an object, a medium and a physical entity.
A conversation about the movement for prison abolition and refusing the logic of race and sex that underpins the criminalisation and mass incarceration of communities.
Ken Jacobs chats to Edwin Carels: Edwin is a curator based in Ghent, responsible for some fantastic programmes of experimental film and art at the Rotterdam Film festival (amongst others).
Listening to people listening to their own homes. Musicians and actors will listen back to recordings made in local peoples homes on headphones, and interpret/ translate what they are hearing.
A dense materialist experience at the limits of contemporary computer music, drawing on Korean Shamanism and Communism; striving to create a strange new vibration to the world that seems to contain the seed of everything.
Film and sound stripped of ‘content’ and experienced spatially, to be looked at not on the screen but in the space of the gallery
For day five of Ultra-red’s project, the investigation will review the previous work undertaken together, and perhaps draw up a summary of reflections and pose some future questions.
Guitar solo where inscrutable, minute electric sounds are excavated by palms that smother and strangle, that wring sound from the fretboard, from behind the bridge.
A chat, with examples (Zola, H. P. Lovecraft, Hammer Horror), about blackness and the sheer stupid thickness of what has no profundity whatsoever.