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.
What would have happened in 1963 if someone from the voguing ball scene going on in Harlem had travelled downtown to perform alongside the early postmoderns at Judson Church?
The site of the former Abbeyhill Station on the 1903 Leith branch of the Edinburgh and Dalkeith railway, overgrown and leading to as yet un-regenerated ‘wasteland’; taxi’s for 80 people, each instructed to take different routes between locations and; a slice of land concealed behind corporate business park branding off the Wester Approach Rd, apparently of no conceivable use and named ‘Chateaux de Scum’ by those who use it anyway.
This session focuses in on the defiant mutual aid practices of early and DIY feminist movements in the UK, that attempted to shift and radicalise care and kinship away from the domain of the nuclear family.
A life force of ecstatic clarity capable of loquacious bursts of affirmation.
Sean and Taku share an interest in structure, space and time. A spartan, abstract, considered and surprisingly musical set.
Akio Suzuki and John Butcher performing in a large multi chambered industrial ice house.
An evening extravaganza celebrating the London launch of Truth & Lies: an Anthology of Writing and Art by Sex Workers
Expect slutty DJs, playful performances, stripper poles, rococo cakes, union broads and intimate readings…
Edinburgh. Beer and smoke befuddled drone/ deadly efforts by Pjorn72 kingpin.
Music is full of refracted brass and wind tones, distorted tape loops, dead silent air and the occasional piercing shard of sound.
One of the most arresting and unique improvisers in Japan, creating an original and powerful body of free music.
Akio Suzuki and John Butcher performing by the Stones of Stenness, instead of the Ring of Brodgar, because of bad weather.
