
It Doesn’t Say What It Says
Loïc Blairon
Open-ended, paradoxical and performed investigations into: misunderstanding, language games, form saturated with sense, and consecutive matters…
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.
Open-ended, paradoxical and performed investigations into: misunderstanding, language games, form saturated with sense, and consecutive matters…
“Hidden in the hands an alluvial transcription of reach and embrace. The final flickers of the body’s expression, caress and touch.” – boychild
There are core ways in which our listening to the radio differs from other kinds of listening. What happens when we pay attention to how we pay attention?
Performances of compositions by Jean-Luc Guionnet and others, with Julia Letitia Scott, Iain Campbell F-W, Neil Davidson, Fritz Welch, Liene Rozite, Emilia Beatriz.
Loïc and Marc are proposing a series of investigations into the tension between improvisation and recording and how it can be used to engage with different spaces and environments around Dundee
A life force of ecstatic clarity capable of loquacious bursts of affirmation.
Argument is a provocative, multi-layered film essay, a trenchant analysis of the media and remains a critically relevant and critically inflammatory tract.
A silent performance of (musical) reverberation.
A parody of a (Manhattan) road movie and meditation on bifurcation, in paths traveled between the seen and the heard; a road trip played over and over from different perspectives.
With Taku we’ll carry out some simple proposals for doing almost nothing, for re-thinking sound with whatever comes to hand.
Ever changing coven of feedback worshipping witches led by Blood Stereo/ Smack Music 7 shrieker Karen Constance spit audio hexes through yr skulls.
Dworkin asks: What would a non-expressive poetry look like? A poetry of intellect rather than emotion?