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.
A beautifully crisp, slowly evolving duo for cello and projected images. Abstract but still figurative; change only noticeable after the fact.
Beat poet Ira Cohen’s now infamous and wildly psychedelic film odyssey feeds one’s own seeing apparatus through beautifully warped and distorting mylar mirrors, resulting in a film dense and rich with visual arcana and poetry.
Ever changing coven of feedback worshipping witches led by Blood Stereo/ Smack Music 7 shrieker Karen Constance spit audio hexes through yr skulls.
Sci-fi. After the club. Underground. Counter-narrative. Narrated movement. Cultural resistance. Wu Tsang and boychild’s collaborative performance series, will continue its evolution at Episode 9 with the addition of TOTAL FREEDOM.
Hartmut is going to talk a little about his work at large and the politics of how his films are constructed. And we’ll screen one of his best films: B-52.
Black-clad with an ominous aura created by their distorted guitar epics, burnt-out ballads and raucous mantric jams.
Out of a dark haze, shafts of light emerge, as the emulsion is scratched from the surface of the film. Simultaneously, out of the black silence, noise and audible scratches bloom into a bright drone.
Moor Mother is a musician, Philadelphian housing activist and black quantum futurist.
A chill sex worker only breakfast hang, hosted by Scotland for Decrim, with delicious vegan, vegetarian, meaty, gluten free options & fresh coffee. (Both present & past lived experience welcome).
Tiny fragments of sound recombined and woven into spare and precise, violent yet beautiful pieces
A talk entitled ‘The Conquest of the Universe’: which delves into the connections between the underground filmmakers and musicians in New York in the early 1960s
Personal Spaces: inversion of a territorial bell, confusing the realms between rehearsal and performance, public and private space.
