My Cat Is An Alien
My Cat Is An Alien
Italian duo of brothers Maurizio and Roberto Opalio utilising an array of acoustic and electric guitars, various toy-instruments and toy-microphones.
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.
Italian duo of brothers Maurizio and Roberto Opalio utilising an array of acoustic and electric guitars, various toy-instruments and toy-microphones.
Like walking through the abstracted amalgamation of 30 or so storms, trays of water shaken by thunder, light bouncing off pools.
GIO’s bottomless throat, Blood Stereo’s slobber gobbler and the Mouth Of The South tangle tonsils over Steve McCaffrey’s Carnival
In a moment of social exhaustion, we want to ask how we might care for each other differently. We Can’t Live Without Our Lives is a 5-day exploration of care as a form of struggle and resistance, with communities who embody it.
Dave will lead a session created for teenagers and designed to stimulate a supportive environment for artistic exploration through music improvisation.
Arrive, get settled, be hosted and meet-up in IRL and URL.
How do communities practice being one another’s means, addressing their material problems facing them replicating the state’s violent logic of who is disposable.
A drone installation populated by flourescent strip lights working in complicity with analogue radios – “all the lights just do their thing”.
In the Foyer at the Tramway we will screen a documentary from the Sex Workers’ Festival of Resistance 2017 and La Llamada by Eduardo Restrepo Castaño.
A chat, with examples (Zola, H. P. Lovecraft, Hammer Horror), about blackness and the sheer stupid thickness of what has no profundity whatsoever.
A meditation on how all of us perform — sometimes reinforcing, sometimes subverting — the shifting categories of gender, sexuality and race.
A simple, gracefully bold set-up to allow Loïc to trace connections: of comments upon comments upon comments, of sounds next to sounds next to sounds.