Film Fest: Stories from sex workers’ rights movement around the world
Luca Stevenson Rori
Three documentary films exploring diverse realities of sex workers around the world followed by a closing ceremony of the festival.
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.
Three documentary films exploring diverse realities of sex workers around the world followed by a closing ceremony of the festival.
Umeda is a Japanese artist who is as fascinated in setting up interesting situations to observe, as he is in creating performances.
Acoustic turntable, engines, trumpet and accordion joined by Bassist Magarida Garcia: build long-form quietly detailed pieces that clatter and rumble, that expand and contract with the tension and release of deeply held breath.
Work for cello, percussion, contra bassoon and cherbulum commissioned for Instal in collaboration with Paragon
A conversation about the movement for prison abolition and refusing the logic of race and sex that underpins the criminalisation and mass incarceration of communities.
On the birthday of Marsha P. Johnson, this event brings together several elements that celebrate the radical care and kinship characteristic of the Trans revolutionary.
Jean-Luc Guionnet will be giving a talk as part of the music department’s ongoing series of colloquia.
A celebration of risk taking and adventure from some of the boldest pioneers of the past 40 years, melding avant garde and underground forms of music and moving image to create new experiments and experiences in sight and sound.
Solo organ performance by German composer Eva-Maria Houben, which focuses on ‘nearly nothing’ to expand the way we listen.
A performance of Ueinzz’s new play. Each Ueinzz performance is a process of reinvention, between exhaustion and a fleeting vision: singular, collective, anonymous, plural, suspensive, intensive, unworking life.
Could they be one of the most ferocious live noise acts around, or a necessary and ludicrous parody of ferocious noise acts? Could they be both?
How do poetry and maths stitch together pictures of our fractured situation from its wreckage and relics, from the debris of hope and the well of residues that make us what we are?