Is a survey a process of listening?
Barry Esson Jay Sanders
A short chat about what we (Arika) might be trying to do with our program for the Biennial.
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 short chat about what we (Arika) might be trying to do with our program for the Biennial.
A rare live performance which, although not a full installation, made use of the unique acoustic and spatial properties of the Arches to rattle the audience and help it locate its third ear.
Hijokaidan rapidly built a following due to the overwhelmingly physical intensity of their live performances, often involving destructive onstage rituals of vomit, urine, mangled guitars and ear shredding volume.
Brother and sister stumble over the early morning horizon in a spectral haze of emotionally devastating lunar vocals and oblique, lithium-soaked folk.
In Our Hands is a ten week programme of workshops facilitated by Lisa Fannen, Omikemi and Clay. The sessions explore radical approaches to health and collective care in the context of movement for liberation and social justice.
How do we make the connections between the mutual aid practices of our daily lives and anti-capitalist efforts to dismantle wider systems of exploitation?
Quintessentially British, The Bohman Brothers’ music is a home-made and DIY conflux of some of the most virulent strains of experimental music.
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.
A workshop inviting participants to enact a series of scores that explore witnessing, testimony, grief and mourning, facilitated by Mezna and Sadia, and accompanied by Sakina Ali.
Relative patterns of occlusion and exposure occupy two screens. Each exposure fires a stroboscopic flash of colour: yellow for one screen; blue for the other, filling the centre of both screens with colour, haloed with after-images.
An utterly deep introspection told in aching, weeping guitar lines; melodic, simple, always minimal but somehow entirely epic.
Rhodri Davies plays two deconstructed harps. Lee Patterson examines the sonic properties of burning nuts.