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.
I wanna be with you everywhere was a gathering of, by, and for disabled artists and writers and anyone who wanted to get with us for a series of crip meet-ups, performances, readings and other social spaces of surplus, abundance and joy.
Brain boiling duo improvisation by great Japanese no input mixing desk pioneer Toshi Nakamura and french organ philosopher Jean-Luc Guionnet.
The second in a series of workshops for workers and non-workers who care. What does the sharing of vulnerability entail? Can such a sharing inform progressive social relations?
Mirror and Phantom Engineer performing an improvised soundtrack to Benjamin Christensen’s 1922 horror film prototype, Haxan: Witchcraft through the Ages.
Deliberately blurred drones, absent of definite structure or rhythm, framed in silence and devoid of any distraction from the pure matter of sound.
Two bottomless brunch writing workshops—with readings—speculating the relationship between space, infrastructure, technologies and sex.
A somehow hyper-modern, ancient and folkloric lip-synced, made-up, fashioned performance.
INSTAL’s third outing saw performances by AMM, Cosmos (Sachiko M & Ami Yoshida), Voreboms, Vibracathedral Orchestra with Matthew Bower and John Godbert, Paragon Ensemble, Merzbow and Ryoji Ikeda.
GIO’s bottomless throat, Blood Stereo’s slobber gobbler and the Mouth Of The South tangle tonsils over Steve McCaffrey’s Carnival
Usurper jamming live in a skip at the site of Bud’s Neill’s Lobey Dosser statue on Woodlands Road.
A historical narrative of the black and Latino/a transgender, bisexual, lesbian, and gay House and Ballroom Scene in relation to race, gender, sexuality and class oppressions.
Performances at Anthology Film Archives by by Loren Mazzacane Connors, Alan Licht & Jandek.
