
Music for a Long Time
Rolf Julius
Julius’ “small music” features simple snatches of found sound, played back through small speakers, often set in bowls of pigment and dirt which shimmies in the vibrations.
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.
Julius’ “small music” features simple snatches of found sound, played back through small speakers, often set in bowls of pigment and dirt which shimmies in the vibrations.
Sonic ‘observations’ of the world, through micro recordings on a tiny scale and transformed into something musically compelling.
The production of moving image (film) by the mechanically, unfalteringly repetitive manipulation of mass-produced materials (film), in order to explore three different allegorical representations (films) of repetitive human actions and labour under capital.
A dance party love letter to our community, expressing the joy of relation in the abstract and through actual physical proximity.
In 2008 we toured our Kill Your Timid Notion festival of experimental sound and image to London, Bristol and Glasgow, bringing audiences a taste of the previous 5 festival editions.
Quasi-theatrical multiple-projector pieces play with the relationship between performers, art and audiences.
A conversation between influential figures thinking through Blackness and Indigeneity, asking: what if we took seriously the possibility that this world, as we know it, may be coming to an end? We dread the loss of this world, but have we begun to imagine the one to come?
“I am truly without faith. In a media marketplace that demands soulness, I can only offer soulnessless.”
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.
Tormented and drawn-out high-pitched yelps and drones, all interleaved with periods of torpid silence.
When one calls a strike, who hears the call, who attunes and listens to it? How to listen to the call of a strike? What prevents one from hearing this call or stops one from listening to it?
A film performance about Guy then, and Guy now, as a metaphor for the passing of time, which of course all film is inherently about.