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.
Noise music for the eyes. A 6 screen 16mm projection performance of intense audio and visual stimulus.
“I am truly without faith. In a media marketplace that demands soulness, I can only offer soulnessless.”
Dual projections of pulsating shards of film, treated in crystallized salts and dyes merge with the whirring of projectors, distilled into particles of sound.
Introducing and setting intentions for a crip grief transformation and witness altar. A place to sit and breathe, remember our dead, wash our hands and leave offerings to and for loved ones we’ve lost – and for ourselves.
One of the most arresting and unique improvisers in Japan, creating an original and powerful body of free music.
In this response to the Self Cancellation project, Lee Patterson dissolves medicine in glasses of water and explores the sonic content.
Free-jazz chat with Sabir Mateen, Daniel Cater, Andrew Barker – hosted by Byron Coley.
IN OUR LIFETIME, is an anti-imperialist resource, edited by Hussein Mitha, produced by Arika for Episode 11, featuring poetry, essays, questions, prompts, letters and works of anti-colonial imaginary.
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.
Ray and Thomas talking about how cognitive neuroscience is unlocking the physical basis of personal experience.
In many ways, this Episode is our attempt to engage with Fred’s incredible writing: with his proposal that all black performance (culture, politics, sexuality, identity, and blackness itself) is improvisation.
A testimony to poverty from Chris’s own experiences, and an invitation to engage with an all too typical situation and context through a kind of imaginary listening.
