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 performed self-cancelling discussion, with artists from the festival, invited speakers and local artists talking at once, over each other, or straining to be heard over the din.
Film and sound stripped of ‘content’ and experienced spatially, to be looked at not on the screen but in the space of the gallery
Summing up of the investigations with a reflection on what has been done that week and what could be done the next.
Politicised fan-fiction chronicling working class gay urban space and fantasy.
A preposterously heavy, eye of the storm musical tug of war, in which two drummers, electronics and electric guitar fall over each other in a droning crush.
A fulcrum to the Japanese noise scene, JOJO Hiroshige has been responsible for much of the explosion of free music coming from Japan in the last 30 years.
West Coast drone-age guitar grumbler/ consumer electronic reclaimer meets free-thinking clang/ chime/ drone bluesman of The East.
Each film in this programme celebrates process; the decay of emulsion, the properties of dust and dirt, the manipulation of time. Post the dawn of the digital age, we reflect on our love of the film form, celluloid as an object, a medium and a physical entity.
There are core ways in which our listening to the radio differs from other kinds of listening. What happens when we pay attention to how we pay attention?
A fully transcribed, described, and open-captioned film screening that’s nothing short of their actual open heart.
Do art forms like black radical poetry, free jazz and improvisation create a space for the performance of freedom? Did they ever? And can they still do so now?
A community of those without community, for a community to come. A schizo-scenic video-collage of the disturbing ‘normality’ of Moby Dick.
