Urban Peasants
Ken Jacobs
Do almost nothing: re-present (unaltered and arranged by chance) silent family home movies handed down to Flo, (Ken’s wife) and follow them with a “teach yourself Yiddish” cassette tape.
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.
Do almost nothing: re-present (unaltered and arranged by chance) silent family home movies handed down to Flo, (Ken’s wife) and follow them with a “teach yourself Yiddish” cassette tape.
Poems are kisses, fists, and underground rivers. For all these reasons and many more, I am a poet.
The role of feelings in public life, (political) depression and creative survival.
Can a musician create a sonic photograph; something with a depth of field, where you can hear sounds and their interconnections, much as you see objects and their relationships in a photo? Could a filmmaker use musical concepts to represent landscape?
Beyond time, colorlines, ability, and sexuality, a movement exploration into what it means to see and be seen, how hearing contrast with what is actually being heard.
Ex-Decaer Pinga and CKDH rodeo queens; regular ladynoise hoedown gets gatecrashed by sonic chunder-huffing remedial clatter boys.
Loïc and Marc are proposing a series of investigations into the tension between improvisation and recording and how it can be used to engage with different spaces and environments around Dundee
Open-ended, paradoxical and performed investigations into: misunderstanding, language games, form saturated with sense, and consecutive matters…
A celebration of our overabundant social entanglement and complicity, that remind us of how we can see ourselves, stripped of powers’ attempts to grasp us.
Glasgow based contemporary music group Paragon Ensemble performing an improvisation with Pete Dowling, Nick Fells, Robert Irvine and others.
Guitar solo where inscrutable, minute electric sounds are excavated by palms that smother and strangle, that wring sound from the fretboard, from behind the bridge.
Black-clad with an ominous aura created by their distorted guitar epics, burnt-out ballads and raucous mantric jams.