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 conversation and livestream considering a global feminist critique of capital with Silvia Federici, Hortense Spillers and Gayatri C. Spivak.
Temporary Outpost for an Auditory Gesture is a kind of performed installation that explores how sonic phenomena (like feedback, vibration, resonance, echo, rhythm) condition our experience.
Koji Asano, Japanese composer and sound-artist performing slow groaning burbling tones, moaning echoes and drones.
The practice of North African Indigenous revolutionary love, in the face of European capitalist violence and settler colonialism, with one of the most vital anti-colonial thinkers in Europe.
A panel exploring the radical potential of technologies through fugitivity and opacity: their ability to obscure, to make it impossible for us to be known, to render us untraceable by every arm of the state even under the all-consuming spectre of surveillance capital.
Ever changing coven of feedback worshipping witches led by Blood Stereo/ Smack Music 7 shrieker Karen Constance spit audio hexes through yr skulls.
Rather than asking the state for services, what kinds of change are made possible when we prioritise people supporting each other?
A workshop for educators, activists and young people to think about radical, anti-imperialist pedagogy, and what fighting for the Palestinian cause looks like for young people in the imperial core. PDF of the resource available soon.
Freeform Super 8mm documentation of Sunday at Instal 06 by filmmaker Matt Hulse.
ACCESS: SOUND FILE A day-long salon accompanying KYTN focusing on sound art.
A bodiless treatise on narration, bored speakers, audience misbehaviour and police megaphones, but: is anybody listening?
An utterly deep introspection told in aching, weeping guitar lines; melodic, simple, always minimal but somehow entirely epic.
