Dispatches from the Intersection of Hurting & Joy
Camisha L. Jones
Writing that shows us that, even in struggle, there is light to be let 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.
Writing that shows us that, even in struggle, there is light to be let in.
Terry is one of the most entertaining and unpredictable musicians in the London free improvising music scene. Rhodri Davies extends his instrument under a battery of techniques creating sound colours and textures quite alien to the harp.
A panel exploring the radical potential of technologies through fugitivity and opacity: their ability to obscure, to make it impossible for us to be known, to render us untraceable by every arm of the state even under the all-consuming spectre of surveillance capital.
An contradictory guitarist, he’s equally at home in slow, halting acoustic improvisation or piercing minimal examinations of electric guitar.
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.
The queer archiving of traumatic cultural memory from one of the leading voices working with queer archives.
A film installation as both allegory and investigation of The Rockridge Institute and their research into ‘framing’ and the use of metaphor within political discourse.
This set continues on from the Bud Neill inspired clatter using the contents of the Usurper twin’s pockets.
Out of a dark haze, shafts of light emerge, as the emulsion is scratched from the surface of the film. Simultaneously, out of the black silence, noise and audible scratches bloom into a bright drone.
Guitar solo where inscrutable, minute electric sounds are excavated by palms that smother and strangle, that wring sound from the fretboard, from behind the bridge.
Miniscule free-noise hissy-fits and broken instrument scrape/ squeal jams from the fools what brought you Giant Tank.
Sonic ‘observations’ of the world, through micro recordings on a tiny scale and transformed into something musically compelling.