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.
Tiny fragments of sound recombined and woven into spare and precise, violent yet beautiful pieces
Heat-mapped bodies, found porn films, Korean psyche-folk, creepy police intrusion and self-defence.
The program of composed music including Feldman’s Instruments III, Ligeti’s piece for 100 Metronomes Poeme Sympathetique, and Rebonds B by Iannis Xenakis.
Leading language/ action/ sound poet performed his groundbreaking concrete poem, a dizzying mandala of text, symbols and rubber stamps; a kind of book as reading machine.
Taking The Futurist Cinema’ manifesto and turning it into software to track ‘aluminium’ online, tracing relationships companies with interests in aluminum had to each other and other agencies.
Ten short intimate one-on-one conversations with Robert Softley Gale – We all want to see ourselves reflected in the world around us—in society, in art, in culture… in porn?
Poems are kisses, fists, and underground rivers. For all these reasons and many more, I am a poet.
Ecstatic, intensely joyous experimental club music: like “the sound of our water ceremonies…40 bands playing their melodies at once to recreate the cacophony of the first aurora and the call of the morning star Venus”.
Akio Suzuki and John Butcher performing in a large multi chambered industrial ice house.
What to do about a telethon other than fuck it up? Poet, tarotist, artist, and librarian Cyrée Jarelle Johnson returns to IWBWYE to read the 1980s and ’90s for what those decades were: practice for now.
Nikos played every note that it’s possible to play on the cello, all played back as a one hour drone, while the cello was turned to powder and bottled.
Sean and Taku share an interest in structure, space and time. A spartan, abstract, considered and surprisingly musical set.
