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.
An invitation into languages field of touch; to speak in feeling together.
Originally billed as a duo of Ingar Zach and Derek Bailey, John Butcher stood in for Bailey at the last minute.
Killer of Sheep is an undisputed masterpiece of African-American filmmaking and one of the most poetic, perceptive dramas ever made about family and community.
4 days of workshops, discussions and artists presentations exploring the radical act of caring for each other while working to change the world.
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.
Guitar and voice. Keening, droning and mourning. Be ready to release and bring your dis-ease.
A saxophone. Handheld fans. Shrill squeaks. Splutters, gargling. An incredible diversity of sounds, intensely focused by an inventive musician.
Improvising using nothing so much as the passage of time as his instrument, Basinski creates works of great melancholic depth and fragile beauty.
In a moment of social exhaustion, we want to ask how we might care for each other differently. We Can’t Live Without Our Lives is a 5-day exploration of care as a form of struggle and resistance, with communities who embody it.
For musical chameleon Richard Youngs both his creative and family life are focused in the room that many of us consider the centre piece of our lives.
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.
A voice that can vault from an elegantly whispered insinuation to asphyxiated and murderous barks or squalls in a heartbeat.
