Make a Way Out of No Way: Club
Kia Labeija MikeQ Miss Prissy Pony Zion
Is it possible to dance our way out of the hardened stances and identity prisons we are locked in?
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.
Is it possible to dance our way out of the hardened stances and identity prisons we are locked in?
Dead Labour Process drool-tape farmer, squeaking/creaking Usurper brother and Peeesseye’s yodelling traps-man hold a real OUT splutter party.
A trance inducing, flickering investigation of structural and minimalist droning from one of the key thinkers in sound and image over the last 50 years
One of the most influential groups in improvised music, with the collective understanding that comes from listening keenly to each other for decades
A full-blooded, emotional attempt to reinvigorate improvisation from a musically inclined philosopher and two philosophically inclined improvisers.
An improvisation that may or may not involve (typical) improvisation.
Can a musician create a sonic photograph; something with a depth of field, where you can hear sounds and their interconnections, much as you see objects and their relationships in a photo? Could a filmmaker use musical concepts to represent landscape?
For day two of Ultra-red’s project, the investigation will take up protocols for listening to the sound of freedom composed and facilitated by the Vogue’ology collective.
A stroboscopic and intense sensory overload of flashing abstract forms, cut to ribbons by modified projectors.
A chat, with examples (Zola, H. P. Lovecraft, Hammer Horror), about blackness and the sheer stupid thickness of what has no profundity whatsoever.
Trans-temporal drag, sexuality and the re-staging of illegible moments in history.
Introducing and setting intentions for a crip grief transformation and witness altar. A place to sit and breathe, remember our dead, wash our hands and leave offerings to and for loved ones we’ve lost – and for ourselves.