
No Diving 2
Storyboard P
Live in person at Performance Space New York and live-streamed everywhere! Watching Storyboard P dance feels like glimpsing into another world.
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.
Live in person at Performance Space New York and live-streamed everywhere! Watching Storyboard P dance feels like glimpsing into another world.
Miniscule free-noise hissy-fits and broken instrument scrape/ squeal jams from the fools what brought you Giant Tank.
What’s the best way to spend time with a musician when they visit a city to perform? And when the musician in question has a great deal to say, what sort of concert do you organise to do justice to that?
In rethinking the body, the law, the state, gender, race, violence, care and empathy, how we might give humanness a different future?
This session focuses in on the defiant mutual aid practices of early and DIY feminist movements in the UK, that attempted to shift and radicalise care and kinship away from the domain of the nuclear family.
A space to reflect on our own experiences with the police and explore more community and care-based ways of dealing with violence and difficulties in our lives.
Our favourite Lancashire-born autodictact asks what’s political about the tension between the individual and the collective in free jazz.
Ubuntu Women Shelter, National Ugly Mugs and the Sex Workers Union warmly invite you to a generative conversation (and Q&A) about the needs and rights of migrant sex workers in Scotland.
In which Storyboard P and members of Project X pick a song, freestyle to it, chat with us about what dancing means to them, then pick another song, freestyle, chat, repeat…
Out of a dark haze, shafts of lights are picked out from the surface of film. Out of the black silence, noise, audible scratches bloom into a bright drone of broken and cracked objects.
Hijokaidan rapidly built a following due to the overwhelmingly physical intensity of their live performances, often involving destructive onstage rituals of vomit, urine, mangled guitars and ear shredding volume.
A kind of performed installation of searing noise and silence, where we’re not sure who the performer is, when it starts or ends or even who it’s for.