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 full-blooded, emotional attempt to reinvigorate improvisation from a musically inclined philosopher and two philosophically inclined improvisers.
Underlying radical transfeminism, as an urgent critique of binary essentialism and fixed identities, is the call for a new kind of thinking that can move between and integrate the truths of all lives in their transformations.
The mutability of the body and the mobility of identity: queered pop culture, drag, lip-sync and performance.
Cardboard boxes, metal guitar, critical homage, attempts to describe things you can’t describe. A one-man Grand Guignol school play.
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?
When one calls a strike, who hears the call, who attunes and listens to it? How to listen to the call of a strike? What prevents one from hearing this call or stops one from listening to it?
An audio and video investigation of gender cults, Catholicism, hauntings and nuns’ use of audio devices…
Dworkin asks: What would a non-expressive poetry look like? A poetry of intellect rather than emotion?
A stroboscopic and intense sensory overload of flashing abstract forms, cut to ribbons by modified projectors.
A community of those without community, for a community to come. A schizo-scenic video-collage of the disturbing ‘normality’ of Moby Dick.
A chill sex worker only breakfast hang, hosted by Scotland for Decrim, with delicious vegan, vegetarian, meaty, gluten free options & fresh coffee. (Both present & past lived experience welcome).
A confrontational and somehow shamanic stance; introspective silences shattered by savage jabs at the strings, whirlwind strums dying into spartan chords
