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.
A bodiless treatise on narration, bored speakers, audience misbehaviour and police megaphones, but: is anybody listening?
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.
How do people living with disability see themselves in today’s sexualised culture? How do we imagine our crip sexual selves despite society wanting to reduce us to non-erotic bodies?
A temporary archive and research space tracing the ways in which sound and audition move through everyday life.
Reading their letters to each other, and chatting about prefigurative politics as the practice of relentlessly building worlds through unspeakable violence and loss; of building worlds and living in them anyway.
How do we make the connections between the mutual aid practices of our daily lives and anti-capitalist efforts to dismantle wider systems of exploitation?
Sean and Taku share an interest in structure, space and time. A spartan, abstract, considered and surprisingly musical set.
Everyday objects and materials (rubber bands, paper, a sink, microphones) disabused of their inertia and made to speak for themselves in a kind of focusing in on the tiny, repetitive, almost unobserved (sonic/ visual) potential of everyday things put into motion.
Thinking against the monoculturalism of Western thought—of faith, affection, sexuality and gender—which completely lacks any utility to, or descriptive value of Indigenous worldviews.
Noise music for the eyes: projectors turned into instruments, B&W film loops into a thrumming riot of colour, motion and sound.
Cardboard boxes, metal guitar, critical homage, attempts to describe things you can’t describe. A one-man Grand Guignol school play.
