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 we use sound, repetition and difference to personally and collectively engage with space, time and labour?
The most sophisticated synthetic music around: timbrally otherwise body music as sonified fictions and auditive sociograms.
Talk charting the radical history of experimental music in Japan + the lowdown into the careers of many of the artists appearing at MLFC.
A public walk from George Square to the Barras market bringing contributions from researchers, activists and artists in a form of live critical praxis
Now a two day festival, INSTAL 04 was borne of a desire to open eyes, challenge audiences and expand musical horizons. This was also the year in which a certain representative from Corwood Industries made his first ever live appearance.
One of the most incessantly experimental musicians in the UK, Youngs’ aesthetic is entirely unique, never really part of any scene [whilst influencing many], steadfastly unafraid and honest
A 101 panel on sex work in Scotland, hosted by National Ugly Mugs, Sex Workers Union, Scotland for Decrim (Decrim Now) host
Politicised fan-fiction chronicling working class gay urban space and fantasy.
In this response to the Self Cancellation project, Lee Patterson dissolves medicine in glasses of water and explores the sonic content.
A dance party love letter to our community, expressing the joy of relation in the abstract and through actual physical proximity.
Includes: solar flares, insect fireworks, a new film from Ian Helliwell, pulsating glaciers, an apple being eaten alive, sea ravaged stock, crushed blackberries and film that has literally risen from the grave.
A chat, with examples (Zola, H. P. Lovecraft, Hammer Horror), about blackness and the sheer stupid thickness of what has no profundity whatsoever.
