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.
When we look, how do we objectify the body; how can we reflect on our (self) image as a construction?
Slowly evolving ultra-subtle harmonics and multi-tracked, otherworldly drones that only reveal their true power at high volume.
We’ll look more at psycho-emotional health – exploring experiences as opposed to diagnoses. And exploring collective care and collective healing.
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.
Offering 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. Expect fire and a little bit of smoke. Concluding with a D/deaf centered social space with conversational interpreters available for those who do not speak ASL.
Relative patterns of occlusion and exposure occupy two screens. Each exposure fires a stroboscopic flash of colour: yellow for one screen; blue for the other, filling the centre of both screens with colour, haloed with after-images.
How do people both inside and outside of prison work together to dismantle the criminal justice system and build a society based on collective care?
In this response to the Self Cancellation project, Lee Patterson dissolves medicine in glasses of water and explores the sonic content.
A guitar solo of frugal wringing, of notes in the dark, an attitude of making everything count.
French improviser, composer, writer & musical thinker of dry humour and elegant clarity. Sly conjurer of music from the unconsidered processes of music making.
A somehow hyper-modern, ancient and folkloric lip-synced, made-up, fashioned performance.
