
Stones of Stenness (Ring of Brodgar)
Akio Suzuki John Butcher
Akio Suzuki and John Butcher performing by the Stones of Stenness, instead of the Ring of Brodgar, because of bad weather.
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.
Akio Suzuki and John Butcher performing by the Stones of Stenness, instead of the Ring of Brodgar, because of bad weather.
No Wave, damaged garage jams and crazed instant vocal shrieks.
Haunted by the archive of the New Cross Fire, Jay Bernard presents a film and poetry reading that undertakes a queer exploration of black British history, reconstructed from archives and apparent debris.
Three iconic figures from the Japanese underground assembled as a trio to stand in for the advertised duo of Junko and Jerome Noetinger who was unable to attend the festival due to illness.
An invitation into languages field of touch; to speak in feeling together.
“Beginning where you and me ends, where we don’t so much come but are already here.” Join James and Nisha to talk about breath, erotics and flesh, about our social, poetic cosubstantiality.
A panel exploring how to dismantle the master’s house — its material edifices and ideological architecture — and the construction of abolitionist futures in the present.
Transfeminist and revolutionary poetry, voice and timbral abstraction: a sounding and spatialising of reparative sonic and somatic practices that can speak back to violent histories of expropriation and ecocide.
A black hole of dense heaviosity, full of slow motion riffage, tectonic pummel and massive planet destroying rock.
We’ll be looking at decolonising ‘global mental health’. We’ll look at the concepts of decoloniality, of things being ‘culture bound’, and at hermeneutical injustice* as ways to examine dominator knowledge systems, and the institution of psych/iatry.
Philip Jeck creates slowly evolving symphonies that are as much about the crackling hiss of old vinyl as the actual ‘musical’ material.
How can we imagine bodies not as an end in themselves, but as a medium through which we can become one another’s means?