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.
What might Carter and Parker’s collaboration tell us about our own performances of responsibility and liberty, whether individual, social or musical?
The struggle for sex workers’ rights and how we can understand it in the continuum of care work and other forms of invisibilised and precarious work.
Our favourite Lancashire-born autodictact asks what’s political about the tension between the individual and the collective in free jazz.
What would have happened in 1963 if someone from the voguing ball scene going on in Harlem had travelled downtown to perform alongside the early postmoderns at Judson Church?
Inspired by Delany’s Aye, and Gomorra. A spookily filmic world where asexual bodies live in the contradiction of their unarousable loneliness and desire for intimacy and contact.
Out holler/ howl of English pukenoise posterboys exploded by incessant insect chatter of Northern fug dweller.
The session – aimed specifically at white people – will be run by Tripod. We will explore and address whiteness, embodied responses to racial tension and somatic techniques to build resilience for practicing anti-racist action. It will be a space to learn and transform together and look at further anti-racist resources and work.
Arrive, get settled, be hosted and meet-up in IRL and URL.
Free-jazz chat with Sabir Mateen, Daniel Cater, Andrew Barker – hosted by Byron Coley.
A performed filmic conversation on queer and black world making.
Polly Shang Kuan Band coven leader and Sick Head’s psychedelic shaman Nackt Insecten make hex ritual to birth a new astral being….. Smack Insecten.
Solo by Jean-Philippe Gross, a French electro-acoustic improviser, working with mixing board, cheap mics, small speakers and an analog synth, built around a honed interest in feedback.
