
Steven Anderson
Steven Anderson
Three short performances involving social exchange (jumpers, hats, glasses…) and singing (ballads)
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.
Three short performances involving social exchange (jumpers, hats, glasses…) and singing (ballads)
Over 3 days Episode 8 celebrates all the unruly ways we escape attempts to constrain us, tear down the walls of normative culture and build joy in flight.
With Taku we’ll carry out some simple proposals for doing almost nothing, for re-thinking sound with whatever comes to hand.
Each organ is unique. The project is to find out what makes it unique.
Come for the crip ingenuity; stay for the smooth feels of what it is to be each other’s everything.
Glasgow. Power electronic klutz behaviour by Kovorox sound head-honcho. Bruised bodies and broken microphones.
A meditation on how all of us perform — sometimes reinforcing, sometimes subverting — the shifting categories of gender, sexuality and race.
We’ll look more at psycho-emotional health – exploring experiences as opposed to diagnoses. And exploring collective care and collective healing.
A glance at both analogue and digital processes; the clarity and precision of digital colour or the yawning, endless depth of dye and emulsion, our programme celebrates how both approaches revel in colour, saturation, hue and tone.
Transfeminist and revolutionary poetry, voice and timbral abstraction: a sounding and spatialising of reparative sonic and somatic practices that can speak back to violent histories of expropriation and ecocide.
Sound and image slipping out of synch and into discord, the programme includes (in London at least) a very special version of Hollis Frampton’s masterful (nostalgia) with a live narration by Michael Snow.
Dworkin asks: What would a non-expressive poetry look like? A poetry of intellect rather than emotion?