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 rare live performance which, although not a full installation, made use of the unique acoustic and spatial properties of the Arches to rattle the audience and help it locate its third ear.
Series of short sets by Acid Mothers Temple / Ruins offshoots Zubi Zuva X, Akaten & Zoffy.
An open conversation around the history and practices of the Ueinzz Theatre Company – a radical Brazilian schizoscenic theatre company of carers, so-called psychotic patients and philosophers.
Two-parts Helhesten spit strangled shanties and cracked reeds from under a net of the Glasgow Improv Orchestra’s six-strings and one moustache.
Nothing if not repetitive, film is founded on the incremental succession of minute difference. But how does repetition of the same play out, and is it a tool to comment on the standardising repetition of the mass media?
4 days of workshops, discussions and artists presentations exploring the radical act of caring for each other while working to change the world.
One of the most incessantly experimental musicians in the UK, Youngs’ aesthetic is entirely unique, never really part of any scene [whilst influencing many], steadfastly unafraid and honest
An extravagant debauch of huge pianos, plush toys, cognac and ritual.
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.
Sachiko M and Ami Yoshida, two of the most prominent members of the Onkyo movement, place much more emphasis on sound texture than on musical structure, distilling elements of techno, noise, and electronic music into a unique hybrid.
Kenneth Goldsmith reads extracts of his conceptual poetry and Achim Wollscheid manipulates mobile phone signals.
Goofily deformed, deeply thought vocal jams: like the sound of your own breath rushing through your head.
