
An Archive of Feelings
Ann Cvetkovich
The queer archiving of traumatic cultural memory from one of the leading voices working with queer archives.
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.
The queer archiving of traumatic cultural memory from one of the leading voices working with queer archives.
A performative survey of listening, as we managed to find it being used as a tool in different practices, disciplines and communities in North America (music, poetry, film, philosophy, activism…).
When one calls a strike, who hears the call, who attunes and listens to it? How to listen to the call of a strike? What prevents one from hearing this call or stops one from listening to it?
This closing session will be a space for reflection and feedback. We can discuss ways we can share what we’ve learned and explored with our wider communities. We can talk about if we want to do more sessions and /or projects together.
Two-parts Helhesten spit strangled shanties and cracked reeds from under a net of the Glasgow Improv Orchestra’s six-strings and one moustache.
Watching films and chatting with Karrabing members about those films: as they attend to the memory and practice of the ancestral present and the ancestral catastrophe that Karrabing and their more-than-human world find themselves facing.
A multi-speaker, electronic, spacious and spatial performance from Florian Hecker.
A sort of prayer and conference, a sort of scream and dialogue – a monologue and declaration at the time, addressing how we can build complicity with one another.
Solo performance by Diamanda Galás one of the great artists of the last forty years. Hers is an emotional expressionism of demonic shrieks, operatic falsettos, glottal clicks and diabolical growls.
A film performance about Guy then, and Guy now, as a metaphor for the passing of time, which of course all film is inherently about.
Los Glissandinos work with clarinet and sine tones beating and thrumming in your middle ear, all beautifully paced and serene, but with just enough steely menace broiling under the surface to keep you on edge.
Slapstick comedy, monologue, and a kind of live sculpture transformed through video, props, musical instruments and make-up.