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.
An invitation into languages field of touch; to speak in feeling together.
In true reality television style, this in-depth artist talk will tackle all the hardest-hitting questions and juiciest details about care, creative collaboration, and disability justice.
A delicate and detailed walk through the urban and rural landscape around Dundee; a poetic focus on the details found. A performance for 16mm projection and live amplified objects (maybe pine cones, maybe a coke bottle).
Where we join Nackt Insecten’s disembodied spectral howls and heavyweight locomotive drones about SPT’s Subway.
Relative patterns of occlusion and exposure occupy two screens. Each exposure fires a stroboscopic flash of colour: yellow for one screen; blue for the other, filling the centre of both screens with colour, haloed with after-images.
A conversation of intergenerational trans-resistance and anti-racist fierceness between two of the most inspiring public speakers we know.
The weeks previous TLRS daily radio shows, after-hours conversations, radio booths and special guests reassembled as a live electroacoustic performance.
60 cycle hums, jagged static cracklings, and clipped electron pinpricks, mutating them into sublime, post-techno grooves
Life and death dramas unfold in the snowy American North, using three-screen documentary footage and a soundtrack by KYTN favourite, vocalist Daniel Menche.
Like walking through the abstracted amalgamation of 30 or so storms, trays of water shaken by thunder, light bouncing off pools.
Akio Suzuki and John Butcher performing in an abandoned oil tanker on Hoy.
All ticket income goes directly to We Will Rise – a group of migrants, refugees, asylum seekers and their allies who have come together to End Immigration Detention in the UK.
