Book Launch: Truth and Lies – an anthology of writing and art by sex workers
An evening of live performances, readings & saucy rococo cakes celebrating the launch of Truth and Lies – An Anthology of Writing and Art by Sex Workers.
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.
An evening of live performances, readings & saucy rococo cakes celebrating the launch of Truth and Lies – An Anthology of Writing and Art by Sex Workers.
Out of a dark haze, shafts of light emerge, as the emulsion is scratched from the surface of the film. Simultaneously, out of the black silence, noise and audible scratches bloom into a bright drone.
Can a collective performance of NourbeSe’s poem of black life as it exceeds containment enact alternative forms of selfhood that emerge in and out of African diasporic experience?
Blood Stereo & Ludo Mich: linking past and present generations of DIY intuitive expression in a post fluxus ‘big mess’.
A fully transcribed, described, and open-captioned film screening that’s nothing short of their actual open heart.
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.
Investigating the border between the audible and the visible means looking at the margins, the edges of creativity where artists test out new boundaries and define them anew.
A system in which film is projected onto copper strips, captured again and then re-projected as video, somehow transforming the original imagery into molasses-slow, molten and incredibly tactile flickers of colour and light.
A meditation on how all of us perform — sometimes reinforcing, sometimes subverting — the shifting categories of gender, sexuality and race.
Performance of a Sudoko based graphic score giving rise to a process of self cancellation.
A queer black operatic requiem for piano and voice that asks us to stay in the hold of the slave ship, that tries to understand the connection from the slave ship to the prison.
“Hidden in the hands an alluvial transcription of reach and embrace. The final flickers of the body’s expression, caress and touch.” – boychild