Temporary outpost for an auditory figure
Brandon LaBelle
A temporary archive and research space tracing the ways in which sound and audition move through everyday life.
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 temporary archive and research space tracing the ways in which sound and audition move through everyday life.
A collaborative duo performance, Anoyonodekigoto sets up a sort of negotiation between a musician, a dancer, the audience and the space we’re all sharing.
A confrontational and somehow shamanic stance; introspective silences shattered by savage jabs at the strings, whirlwind strums dying into spartan chords
A stroboscopic and intense sensory overload of flashing abstract forms, cut to ribbons by modified projectors.
What does it mean to listen with the mind as well as the ears? A solo performance from the great avant-garde pianist.
Rather than asking the state for services, what kinds of change are made possible when we prioritise people supporting each other?
Blood Stereo & Ludo Mich: linking past and present generations of DIY intuitive expression in a post fluxus ‘big mess’.
First in a series of workshops for workers and non-workers who care. Does work that asks us to be attentive to the needs of others force us to sell our capacity for kindness?
Final workshop exploring work, care and class. Does the ‘care industry’ summon forth its own class? Can this ‘affective class’, in their ability to care for others, militate against the carelessness of self-interest?
What does it mean to resist seeking assimilation or inclusion within, or let our demands be co-opted by the very systems we seek to dismantle?
A performed self-cancelling discussion, with artists from the festival, invited speakers and local artists talking at once, over each other, or straining to be heard over the din.
An occasion for commotion, and a chorus of motions. Choreography rotating your revolutions and then some.