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 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.”
A short chat about what we (Arika) might be trying to do with our program for the Biennial.
How can we imagine bodies not as an end in themselves, but as a medium through which we can become one another’s means?
Investigating the border between the audible and the visible means looking at the margins, the edges of creativity where artists test out new boundaries and define them anew.
Perhaps the paradigm of America’s covert musical subculture, Sun City Girls operate just over the border of raucous delirium.
Location: Around and about the old public library in Easterhouse; disinvested in and left to rot by the council but which was shamelessly, hastily and superficially cleaned by them in expectation of our event.
The mutability of the body and the mobility of identity: queered pop culture, drag, lip-sync and performance.
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.
In Ramayya’s visionary poetry, the body assumes as many forms as love produces states: attraction and repulsion, excitement and exhaustion, selfishness and the dissolution of self.
Writing that shows us that, even in struggle, there is light to be let in.
A trio of Tamio’s screaming and immovable slabs of sound; Mico’s dance/ performance/ piano; Fritz’s absurd, flailing percussion/ voice.
This session focuses in on the defiant mutual aid practices of early and DIY feminist movements in the UK, that attempted to shift and radicalise care and kinship away from the domain of the nuclear family.
