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.
Imagery, drawn from what seems like hundreds of different films is overlaid and combined in a promissory rainbow of new meanings and impossible scenarios, with the unsettling feel of daylight shadows.
A life force of ecstatic clarity capable of loquacious bursts of affirmation.
Performances at Anthology Film Archives by by Loren Mazzacane Connors, Alan Licht & Jandek.
GIO’s bottomless throat, Blood Stereo’s slobber gobbler and the Mouth Of The South tangle tonsils over Steve McCaffrey’s Carnival
During their time in Scotland for Instal 06 Dave Dove, Bhob Rainey and Greg Kelly did some improvisation workshops and performances in and around Glasgow.
Andrew Chalk & Christoph Heemann return with their diaphanous, impressionistic drone duo; their slowly evolving and enthralling works flutter and quiver with elegantly restrained, miniature sound events.
Join Scot-PEP, SWARM and Decrim Now for a day of panel discussions focusing on: sex worker’s labour rights, how decriminalisation can help in the struggle for sex worker safety, sex work & migration with a film screening of Crossings.
The final iteration of Arika’s INSTAL festivals, the 2010 edition was an experimental festival of experimental music – 3 days of events at the Tramway that explored un-average ideas about sound and music.
Three workshops lead up to an open invitation to improvise with the festival as concert. The last four hours of the Sunday 14 at Instal 10 were devoted to presentations devised during the three workshops. The material conditions (time, space, facilities…) were the instruments. From there anything could happen.
No Wave, damaged garage jams and crazed instant vocal shrieks.
Simon Morris is joined by Nick Thurston as they attempt to read aloud whilst peddling on exercise bikes.
Tiny fragments of sound recombined and woven into spare and precise, violent yet beautiful pieces
