John Lee Clark
John Lee Clark
An invitation into languages field of touch; to speak in feeling together.
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.
Sarah Washington uses electronics and wind-up radios, running out of charge to repsond to the festivals’ Self Cancellation provocation.
A programme looking at landscape, filmic or architectural spaces and at how the fixed stare of a camera frame only captures so much reality; here we focus on how filmmakers structure our relationship with that reality and at how they relate it to or interpret it through sound.
In this interactive workshop, Dean Spade, author of Mutual Aid, will share key principles, explore common challenges in mutual aid work, and offer tools for working through them.
Paul Sharits one of the great experimental, sometimes called structuralist / materialist, filmmakers of the 20th Century.
Cardboard boxes, metal guitar, critical homage, attempts to describe things you can’t describe. A one-man Grand Guignol school play.
Power-electronic klutz behaviour indecipherable blasphemies, cuts, bruises and broken microphones by Kovorox Sound head-honcho Lea Cummings.
Slowly evolving ultra-subtle harmonics and multi-tracked, otherworldly drones that only reveal their true power at high volume.
The first of two short film programmes featuring works that blur the boundaries between music and film from artists who cross and redefine those long held divisions. This programme focuses on the forebearers of filmic and musical innovation over the last 70 years.
In this workshop we will imagine ourselves as time travellers from a glorious and chaotic neurodivergent-led future.
Transfeminist, communist, revolutionary poetry that refuses to flinch. Nat Raha presents new work in the nine.
Goofily deformed, deeply thought vocal jams: like the sound of your own breath rushing through your head.