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.
Former street performer, organist, performance artist, circus performer, harpist, accordion player, tree surgeon and tricyclist performing solo.
A fully transcribed, described, and open-captioned film screening that’s nothing short of their actual open heart.
A film installation as both allegory and investigation of The Rockridge Institute and their research into ‘framing’ and the use of metaphor within political discourse.
Perhaps the paradigm of America’s covert musical subculture, Sun City Girls operate just over the border of raucous delirium.
There exist places in our towns and cities that are created not by design, but by circumstance. Shadowed Spaces was a tour of overlooked, bypassed and unconsidered nooks and crannies with 3 musicians.
What is the radical concept at the core of ‘rhythm’, expanded from simply musical or mathematical notions to encompass personal, social, collective rhythms?
Greek TV company Onos Productions came to INSTAL 09 to document the festival and report on Nikos Veliotis’ Cello Powder performance.
The second of two short film programmes featuring works that blur the boundaries between music and film from artists who cross and redefine those long held divisions. This programme highlights contemporary works.
Complexly interacting colossal drones by the creator of some of the most legendary yet least heard music of the 70’s.
Noise music for the eyes: projectors turned into instruments, B&W film loops into a thrumming riot of colour, motion and sound.
As opposed to suggesting soundtrack’s to Brakhage’s works [which are almost entirely silent] Text of Light use his works to stimulate improvisation, enveloping them into the structure of the group much like an additional musician.
Goofily deformed, deeply thought vocal jams: like the sound of your own breath rushing through your head.
