Moor Mother
Moor Mother
Moor Mother is a musician, Philadelphian housing activist and black quantum futurist.
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.
Moor Mother is a musician, Philadelphian housing activist and black quantum futurist.
The most sophisticated synthetic music around: timbrally otherwise body music as sonified fictions and auditive sociograms.
An improvisation that may or may not involve (typical) improvisation.
A silent collage of found film footage partially layered with computer graphics to provide a framework in which live music can develop.
Ecstatic, intensely joyous experimental club music: like “the sound of our water ceremonies…40 bands playing their melodies at once to recreate the cacophony of the first aurora and the call of the morning star Venus”.
A poetic multi-screen performance about “the inadequacy of the arbitrary passing moment and the impossibility of permanence”. About time and change.
Disused railway turning circle at east end of Union Terrace Gardens, a historically public space at the centre of a regeneration land-grab for the private gain of a local petro-chemical magnate.
A double bill of A (imageless) film of nothing but a sound recording and its transcription and a found film of news interviews about Malcolm X’s assasination, where the filmmaker decided to add nothing to it, except our attention.
N30 is a massive, dynamic, immersive multi-channel presentation of front-line field recordings from the protest against the WTO in Seattle
How do communities formed under the duress of violent othering and the joy of solidarity – such as ballroom culture, Black diasporas, Zapatistas – reform bonds of kinship?
A double bill. A simple first person, Dundee-specific tracking shot that approaches the cinema/ screen/ space the film will eventually be shown in and in Brazilian opera house, a fixed camera gazes at a local audience from the stage: a choir, hidden in the orchestra pit, sings and gradually fades to silence.
Can we use sound, repetition and difference to personally and collectively engage with space, time and labour?