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.
Slapstick comedy, monologue, and a kind of live sculpture transformed through video, props, musical instruments and make-up.
A double bill of Morgan Fisher films that ask what can be achieved by a simple structural method of commenting on scraps of 35mm film, re-shot on 16mm film and what happens to meaning (if anything) when ‘insert shots’ are relieved of their original duty of providing crucial plot development for a variety of other movies?
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.
Improvising using nothing so much as the passage of time as his instrument, Basinski creates works of great melancholic depth and fragile beauty.
An occasion for commotion, and a chorus of motions. Choreography rotating your revolutions and then some.
A 100 strong Feral Choir of people who’ve never improvised with their voices before, conducted by composer Phil Minton.
Simon Morris is joined by Nick Thurston as they attempt to read aloud whilst peddling on exercise bikes.
Can our favourite Vegas-born poet of prophetic blackness and a South Central transmuter of social rage into beauty feel through each other?
For this day-long festival, sex workers and their allies from New York, the tri-state area, and Europe will gather at MoMA PS1 to debate, perform, dance, strategize & share knowledge.
Three days of discussions, performances, actions, dancing and food – continuing No Total’s ongoing contemplation of ways of being together and the ways Arika have been entangled in those, ever since Episode 4.
The Echo project is an installation as audio guide for a crowd. And at the same time it’s a private conversation: with you, as one of 20 people in a room, a sort of public intimacy.
A sound of buzzing and flickering metallic drones, glottal stops and guttural growls, and also an explosiveness and purity of sound that reminds you as much of Bill Dixon as anyone else.
