
Birchville Cat Motel
Birchville Cat Motel
Blissed-out sun-dappled drone ragas of the highest order, with a metal-tinged signature sound of plucked and bowed strings.
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.
Blissed-out sun-dappled drone ragas of the highest order, with a metal-tinged signature sound of plucked and bowed strings.
Tormented and drawn-out high-pitched yelps and drones, all interleaved with periods of torpid silence.
Andrew Chalk & Christoph Heemann return with their diaphanous, impressionistic drone duo; their slowly evolving and enthralling works flutter and quiver with elegantly restrained, miniature sound events.
Our favourite Lancashire-born autodictact asks what’s political about the tension between the individual and the collective in free jazz.
This programme takes human subjects as the focus for sound and image construction. And it includes a couple of masterpieces of experimental film: Paul Sharits’ deeply empathetic interpretation of epilepsy and Peter Kubelka’s Webern inspired abstract portrait of Arnulf Rainer.
Ten short intimate one-on-one conversations with Robert Softley Gale – We all want to see ourselves reflected in the world around us—in society, in art, in culture… in porn?
Harrowing but musical confrontations with the very real, physical and aural trauma of a woman screaming.
Includes: street portraits of kids in 1930’s Dakota, a mysterious foggy pilgrimage, a swarm of time-lapsed consumers, a stereoscopic analysis of mill life, up close and personal in a Lighting Bolt mosh pit.
One of the most arresting and unique improvisers in Japan, creating an original and powerful body of free music.
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.
Instead of the one-way monologue of normal performance, what would be the result of an actual collective dialogue? Where would it go?
Guitar solo where inscrutable, minute electric sounds are excavated by palms that smother and strangle, that wring sound from the fretboard, from behind the bridge.