Self Cancellation – Vessels
Lee Patterson
In this response to the Self Cancellation project, Lee Patterson dissolves medicine in glasses of water and explores the sonic content.
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.
In this response to the Self Cancellation project, Lee Patterson dissolves medicine in glasses of water and explores the sonic content.
What’s the best way to spend time with a musician when they visit a city to perform? And when the musician in question has a great deal to say, what sort of concert do you organise to do justice to that?
This event honoured those individuals who achieved the status of Icon during the period of 1986-1990.
Ian and Gil will host a discussion on the Argument project’s social and political commentaries, and with you try and maybe think through whether and how they might still have some currency today: what’s changed and what’s stayed the same?
Watching films and chatting with Karrabing members about those films: as they attend to the memory and practice of the ancestral present and the ancestral catastrophe that Karrabing and their more-than-human world find themselves facing.
One of the most revered and legendary underground acts of the past 20+ years, Current 93 is the constantly evolving creation of David Tibet.
Journalist and underground music champion Alan Cummings talks to Keiji Haino about his career and his performance the previous evening.
A joyful conversation discussing disability, gender transition and care labour as expressions of virtuosic and innovative skills that make care – good care – possible.
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.
A short chat about what we (Arika) might be trying to do with our program for the Biennial.
Jarringly beautiful and often maniacal expression of hallucinatory and very personal visions.
Dworkin asks: What would a non-expressive poetry look like? A poetry of intellect rather than emotion?