Tugnet Ice House
Akio Suzuki John Butcher
Akio Suzuki and John Butcher performing in a large multi chambered industrial ice house.
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.
Akio Suzuki and John Butcher performing in a large multi chambered industrial ice house.
Ellis’s processional, precessional cessation and continuation of movement and music comes to us via his forthcoming release Aster of Ceremonies (Milkweed Editions, 2023)
Paul Sharits one of the great experimental, sometimes called structuralist / materialist, filmmakers of the 20th Century.
A kind of audience activating, structured film guessing game in the manipulation of time, sound and image. “At 11:15, weiners. At 21:05, pornography. At 23:30, a duet. Watch the Clock.”
4 days of performances, discussions, workshops, screenings with mutant dancers, prison abolitionist poets, transfeminist revolutionaries, haunted noise, science fiction, sex worker resistance, crip erotics, radical pornography and militant fiction.
“I am truly without faith. In a media marketplace that demands soulness, I can only offer soulnessless.”
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.
A historical narrative of the black and latino/a transgender, bisexual, lesbian, and gay House and Ballroom Scene in relation to its artistic practices.
An audio/ video, lecture/ performance exploring the queer and companionly inter-activity of human-animal relations.
A dance party love letter to our community, expressing the joy of relation in the abstract and through actual physical proximity.
Dub is strange. A conversation with Edward George and Dhanveer Brar.
An utterly deep introspection told in aching, weeping guitar lines; melodic, simple, always minimal but somehow entirely epic.