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.
Location: Around and about the old public library in Easterhouse; disinvested in and left to rot by the council but which was shamelessly, hastily and superficially cleaned by them in expectation of our event.
A programme of discontinuity between narration, text and image. Including Manual Saiz’s employment of John Malkovich’s Spanish dubbing double and Peter Rose’s absurdly hilarious concrete poetry subtitling chaos.
Nat Raha and Mijke van der Drift undertake two intensive writing residencies at Scottish Sculpture Workshop in Lumsden and Hospitalfield in Arbroath.
The Songspiels take on a mode of musical theatre developed by playwright Bertolt Brecht and composer Kurt Weill in the early twentieth century, presenting political and social concerns through the accessible and (often funny) form of song.
Voguing, drag, clubbing, and the politics of communities making different performances of gender and sexuality visible.
Akio Suzuki and John Butcher performing in an abandoned oil tanker on Hoy.
UK conceptual/ drone/ noise artist, who is seriously posing what might seem to be unanswerable questions of music.
An improvised film about our worlds at the brink, on the edge, in front of a crisis. To stand on the side of life, by seeing the resistance to genocide in Palestine as a turning point to overcome.
A 101 panel on sex work in Scotland, hosted by National Ugly Mugs, Sex Workers Union, Scotland for Decrim (Decrim Now) host
Work for cello, percussion, contra bassoon and cherbulum commissioned for Instal in collaboration with Paragon
In a moment of social exhaustion, we want to ask how we might care for each other differently. We Can’t Live Without Our Lives is a 5-day exploration of care as a form of struggle and resistance, with communities who embody it.
A kind of performed installation of searing noise and silence, where we’re not sure who the performer is, when it starts or ends or even who it’s for.
