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.
Paper Piece: Secrets is a performance for and with the whole audience, using paper, text, secrets, being in the crowd
One of the most startling cinematic debuts on record, The Flicker is more a hallucination than a film, an out of body experience and riotous celebration of visual harmonics frequencies. An experiment in perception, come with your mind and eyes open.
We’ll look more at psycho-emotional health – exploring experiences as opposed to diagnoses. And exploring collective care and collective healing.
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.
Multiple images, glimpses of old films, abstract images in the midst of an electro-acoustic sound field of tape loops & analogue synthesizers
Beatriz will explore her thinking, on film as translation, plural subjectivity or land-based militancy. Discussion will centre around her work Oriana and its companion piece Oenanthe, which will be screened in full.
Recently rediscovered but still very pertinent, Kino Beleške presents a series of speech acts and performative gestures by protagonists of the new artistic practice in former Yugoslavia: each a personal take on the role of art in society.
A beautifully crisp, slowly evolving duo for cello and projected images. Abstract but still figurative; change only noticeable after the fact.
Includes: street portraits of kids in 1930’s Dakota, a mysterious foggy pilgrimage, a swarm of time-lapsed consumers, a stereoscopic analysis of mill life, up close and personal in a Lighting Bolt mosh pit.
Guitar solo where inscrutable, minute electric sounds are excavated by palms that smother and strangle, that wring sound from the fretboard, from behind the bridge.
An utterly deep introspection told in aching, weeping guitar lines; melodic, simple, always minimal but somehow entirely epic.
