
Christmas Tree Stand
Bruce McClure
A stroboscopic and intense sensory overload of flashing abstract forms, cut to ribbons by modified projectors.
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 stroboscopic and intense sensory overload of flashing abstract forms, cut to ribbons by modified projectors.
Beatriz will explore her thinking, on film as translation, plural subjectivity or land-based militancy. Discussion will centre around her work Oriana and its companion piece Oenanthe, which will be screened in full.
Nothing if not repetitive, film is founded on the incremental succession of minute difference. But how does repetition of the same play out, and is it a tool to comment on the standardising repetition of the mass media?
Can our favourite Vegas-born poet of prophetic blackness and a South Central transmuter of social rage into beauty feel through each other?
An LSD trip gone right via dense explorations of post-Fahey steel and low level drone.
Over 3 days Episode 8 celebrates all the unruly ways we escape attempts to constrain us, tear down the walls of normative culture and build joy in flight.
Seven women recite monologues composed from texts from the vibrant years of the Weimar Republic. A kind of cultural echo: an experience of histories brought to the present.
Low-end drone guitarage army since 1997: nobody has done more on this occasion by a gaggle of sludge-lovers from the Scottish underground.
Chris Corsano, Akio Suzuki and John Butcher performing in the Hamilton Mausoleum, Hamilton.
Journalist and underground music champion Alan Cummings talks to Keiji Haino about his career and his performance the previous evening.
Smith/Stewart set up allegorical situations over which they often have little to no control, but which instigate explorations of dependence and trust, the body, sex and death.
Philip Jeck creates slowly evolving symphonies that are as much about the crackling hiss of old vinyl as the actual ‘musical’ material.