cloud _to_air
Seth Cluett
Like walking through the abstracted amalgamation of 30 or so storms, trays of water shaken by thunder, light bouncing off pools.
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.
Like walking through the abstracted amalgamation of 30 or so storms, trays of water shaken by thunder, light bouncing off pools.
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.
Temporary Outpost for an Auditory Gesture is a kind of performed installation that explores how sonic phenomena (like feedback, vibration, resonance, echo, rhythm) condition our experience.
When one calls a strike, who hears the call, who attunes and listens to it? How to listen to the call of a strike? What prevents one from hearing this call or stops one from listening to it?
Dual projections of pulsating shards of film, treated in crystallized salts and dyes merge with the whirring of projectors, distilled into particles of sound.
A beautifully crisp, slowly evolving duo for cello and projected images. Abstract but still figurative; change only noticeable after the fact.
Munehiro Narita’s Kyoaku No Intention (Worst Intentions) fired out some of the most compelling no-wave improvised rock of the 80s.
Each organ is unique. The project is to find out what makes it unique.
A 3-day exploration – through performance, screenings and discussion – of the art and politics of wayward communities who refuse to be bound by the fictions of race and sex.
Includes: a £20 note, stock fluctuations, an examination of words in the video medium, a linguistic challenge for your mind, a frame by frame dissection 50 words, shop front poetry, image and language head to head and newspapers under the microscope.
Andrew Chalk & Christoph Heemann return with their diaphanous, impressionistic drone duo; their slowly evolving and enthralling works flutter and quiver with elegantly restrained, miniature sound events.
What happens when you are engaged in a deep and extended artistic practice that intersects between literature and music, notation and improvisation, sight and sound?