Dispatches from the Intersection of Hurting & Joy
Camisha L. Jones
Writing that shows us that, even in struggle, there is light to be let in.
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.
Writing that shows us that, even in struggle, there is light to be let in.
A fulcrum to the Japanese noise scene, JOJO Hiroshige has been responsible for much of the explosion of free music coming from Japan in the last 30 years.
Tormented and drawn-out high-pitched yelps and drones, all interleaved with periods of torpid silence.
Slowly evolving ultra-subtle harmonics and multi-tracked, otherworldly drones that only reveal their true power at high volume.
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.
Akio Suzuki and John Butcher performing in an old underground reservoir in Fife.
Chip will read some of his great literary pornography, which pushes sexuality to the point of extremity and exhaustion.
A conversation about the movement for prison abolition and refusing the logic of race and sex that underpins the criminalisation and mass incarceration of communities.
“The miracle of Herman Melville is this: that a hundred years ago in Moby Dick…he painted a picture of the world in which we live, which is to this day unsurpassed.” – C. L. R. James
Acting at the minimum. Each film here substitutes one small thing for another, (ironically) transforming received meanings by the simplest of actions; often kind of funny too.
Reading their letters to each other, and chatting about prefigurative politics as the practice of relentlessly building worlds through unspeakable violence and loss; of building worlds and living in them anyway.
A confrontational and somehow shamanic stance; introspective silences shattered by savage jabs at the strings, whirlwind strums dying into spartan chords