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 drone installation populated by flourescent strip lights working in complicity with analogue radios – “all the lights just do their thing”.
A stroboscopic and intense sensory overload of flashing abstract forms, cut to ribbons by modified projectors.
Sachiko’s very simple, pure sine tones and structures. Otomo on double pianos. Filament’s music isn’t composed and it isn’t improvised: it’s a hybrid of the two.
The first of two workshops that highlight correspondence as a way of working. Somewhere between song, speech, and logistical arrangement, these workshops invite participants to consider care as infrastructure.
For day four of Ultra-red’s project, the investigation will take up protocols for listening to the sound of freedom composed and facilitated by Fred Moten.
Power-electronic klutz behaviour indecipherable blasphemies, cuts, bruises and broken microphones by Kovorox Sound head-honcho Lea Cummings.
Paul Sharits is one of our all time heroes, and one of the great artist filmmakers of the 20th Century.
TEST is a collective creative improvising quartet based out of the NYC Underground (figuratively and literally). Their street-hardened, spatial Jazz is riotous and intense: is also makes us think about collective organization, and different ideas of responsibility and liberty.
A movement-based workshop on Krump and the politics of how we teach, learn and listen with our bodies. Move with us!
Taku’s actions strip back musical performance to one of its original proposals: what is an action and how does it create a situation for spending time together, for paying attention?
Three short performances involving social exchange (jumpers, hats, glasses…) and singing (ballads)
An invitation into languages field of touch; to speak in feeling together.
