
John Lee Clark
John Lee Clark
An invitation into languages field of touch; to speak in feeling together.
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.
As part of Karrabing’s visit to Scotland, the collective will be hosted for three days in the Isle of Skye by The School of Plural Futures.
Profound mathematical ideas for romantics, to help us linger in the difference we share.
Databases carry the same seeds of creativity that early documentary makers saw in film. Both can empower people by helping them to master information, both can be claimed to represent some kind of reality or truth.
Thought and action, writing and protesting. A chat with Nat Raha, KUCHENGA and Jackie Wang asking what can be learnt from writing across genres by agitators, activists and abolitionists?
Stripping back the domesticated ‘meaning’ of (everyday, mundane, kitchen) tools to reveal “a lexicon of rage and frustration.” Plus an allegorical use of mundane, everyday things as an examination of how meaning is constructed in film.
Beat poet Ira Cohen’s now infamous and wildly psychedelic film odyssey feeds one’s own seeing apparatus through beautifully warped and distorting mylar mirrors, resulting in a film dense and rich with visual arcana and poetry.
Sound as it is endured by space and the body: 15 participants lie face down and pound the floor with a microphone one thousand times, each person choosing their own rhythm and intensity.
Join Brian as he ruminates on the history of how experimental filmmakers and sound artists have drifted into and taken over galleries in order to show their work.
Politicised fan-fiction chronicling working class gay urban space and fantasy.
Akio Suzuki and John Butcher performing in an abandoned oil tanker on Hoy.
A queer black operatic requiem for piano and voice that asks us to stay in the hold of the slave ship, that tries to understand the connection from the slave ship to the prison.