
INSTAL 10
The final iteration of Arika’s INSTAL festivals, the 2010 edition was an experimental festival of experimental music – 3 days of events at the Tramway that explored un-average ideas about sound and music.
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.
The final iteration of Arika’s INSTAL festivals, the 2010 edition was an experimental festival of experimental music – 3 days of events at the Tramway that explored un-average ideas about sound and music.
Electronic music, time, thought, the word, and consecutive matters
This performance brings together film, text and speech and temporarily constructs a filmic space to think through questions of resistance, and the choice and consequence of action vs. inaction: what does it mean to choose to not take part?
Patented 60 cycle hums, static pops, and terse electron pinpricks mutated into perfect, post-techno grooves and synaesthesic video
Part old-fashioned Renaissance man, part hardcore avant-gardist, the Canadian painter-photographer-filmmaker-musician gives full vent to his genius in the exhilarating perceptual vaudeville, named after the ‘central region’ of tissue that acts as a conduit between the brain’s two hemispheres.
Arika is working in partnership with Decriminalised Futures on a multi year collaboration featuring multiple creative projects exploring sex worker lives, experiences and movement struggles.
Low-end drone guitarage army since 1997: nobody has done more on this occasion by a gaggle of sludge-lovers from the Scottish underground.
Exploring the interplay between punk sinewave aggression, high-speed video sequences and stroboscopic lighting
Conceptual choreography as critique, in Ligia’s film of Caribbean plots and scandals, and the possibilities of anti-colonial revenge, rest and repair.
An utterly deep introspection told in aching, weeping guitar lines; melodic, simple, always minimal but somehow entirely epic.
No Wave, damaged garage jams and crazed instant vocal shrieks.
If life is assaulted by power, where do we find spaces for living? A conversation with Peter Pál Pelbart.