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 community of those without community, for a community to come. A schizo-scenic video-collage of the disturbing ‘normality’ of Moby Dick.
As part of Karrabing’s visit to Scotland, the collective will be hosted for three days in the Isle of Skye by The School of Plural Futures.
Arika is working in partnership with Decriminalised Futures on a multi year collaboration featuring multiple creative projects exploring sex worker lives, experiences and movement struggles.
Morgan Fisher is a filmmaker of great wit and charm who uses the tools of experimental film to dissect the basic presuppositions of commercial cinema.
A panel exploring the poetics of abolition. “Poetry is not only dream and vision; it is the skeleton architecture of our lives. It lays the foundations for a future of change.”
Solo performance by Diamanda Galás one of the great artists of the last forty years. Hers is an emotional expressionism of demonic shrieks, operatic falsettos, glottal clicks and diabolical growls.
A performance by Storyboard P – one of the greatest Afrofuturist dancers on the planet.
A performed lecture concerned with Renaissance occult (musical) thinkers of the cosmic who put forward the notion of the “disharmony of the world”
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.
The first INSTAL festival (programmed by Barry Esson of Arika and Tiernan Kelly) featured a line-up including Robert Lippock, Philip Jeck, Fennesz, Paragon Ensemble, Icebreaker International, Defaalt and Rhomboi.
Bleu Shut reveals, and allows us to enjoy, our gullibility within the pervasive absurdity of modern life.
Goofily deformed, deeply thought vocal jams: like the sound of your own breath rushing through your head.
