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.
We commissioned Radu Malfatti to write a new piece for the 21-piece string section of the Northern Sinfonia: Music striving to discover the exact point at which sound resonates the clearest amidst long drawn out silences.
I wanna be with you everywhere is an everywhere gathering envisioned for and by disability communities and anyone who wants to get with us. IWBWYE returns to Performance Space and any space on June 21 for an outdoor pop-up and hybridized event.
The role of feelings in public life, (political) depression and creative survival.
A temporary archive and research space tracing the ways in which sound and audition move through everyday life.
Glasgow. Low-end drone guitarage army in praise of the open chord.
Summer Solstice hang out IRL and URL on 21 June
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.
5 days of film, music, discussion and study of our collective incompleteness—arrayed against the colonial ordering of how we come to know the world—practicing how we might exist otherwise, right here and now. Can we start to know and practice the world to come?
We asked Christoph to come and give a sort of informal talk, raising some of his ideas about sound and image, and playing/ showing a few examples.
In Our Hands is a ten week programme of workshops facilitated by Lisa Fannen, Omikemi and Clay. The sessions explore radical approaches to health and collective care in the context of movement for liberation and social justice.
Morgan Fisher is a filmmaker of great wit and charm who uses the tools of experimental film to dissect the basic presuppositions of commercial cinema.
A kind of performed installation of searing noise and silence, where we’re not sure who the performer is, when it starts or ends or even who it’s for.
