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.
Amid the blur of erotics, the jangle of poetics, and the fetishizing of sickness and disability, the heat of Panteha’s performance and sculpture freezes all.
Equal parts spectacle, installation and performance, his set for us is a specially developed work, ‘turning’, which features an orchestra of multiple turntables, 4 projections and a collection of old, and, quite probably, misfiring analogue kit.
How do poetry and maths stitch together pictures of our fractured situation from its wreckage and relics, from the debris of hope and the well of residues that make us what we are?
William cradles, hammers, and rains down blows, plucking and using 2 bows to attack the strings above and below the bridge, all in the service of a fiery and passionate creativity.
Three (thankfully short) chats wherein we try and get at what’s eating us with regards to experimental music, and what we think might be worth salvaging.
A short chat about what we (Arika) might be trying to do with our program for the Biennial.
Politicised fan-fiction chronicling working class gay urban space and fantasy.
Goodwin’s writing emanates from the social life of poetry, from a condition of entanglement before historically racially-specific forms of representation. Another word for this emanation is breath.
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.
Trio vocal performance of a score by Achim Wollscheid with Aileen Campbell, Junko and Dylan Nyoukis.
In true reality television style, this in-depth artist talk will tackle all the hardest-hitting questions and juiciest details about care, creative collaboration, and disability justice.
A film performance about Guy then, and Guy now, as a metaphor for the passing of time, which of course all film is inherently about.
