Personal Space
Aileen Campbell Neil Davidson
Personal Spaces: inversion of a territorial bell, confusing the realms between rehearsal and performance, public and private space.
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.
Personal Spaces: inversion of a territorial bell, confusing the realms between rehearsal and performance, public and private space.
Avant-wrongdoers Blood Stereo performing in Garthamlock the town spawned them.
Light Music is a dizzying celebration of the pivotal nature of sound in film; a direct and powerful transcription of film as sound.
Ever wondered about the roadside festoons which are the innards of discarded cassette tapes? All will be revealed in this methodical and insightful documentary by UK luminary John Smith and sound artist cohort Graeme Miller.
An original and beautifully simple performed installation forging a direct link between sound and image.
Ubuntu Women Shelter, National Ugly Mugs and the Sex Workers Union warmly invite you to a generative conversation (and Q&A) about the needs and rights of migrant sex workers in Scotland.
A drone installation populated by flourescent strip lights working in complicity with analogue radios – “all the lights just do their thing”.
Sparse and miniature free thought workouts involving guitar, vocals and tuba.
Originally billed as a duo of Ingar Zach and Derek Bailey, John Butcher stood in for Bailey at the last minute.
Black Boned Angel’s is a rock sound, stripped of all extraneous detail right down to its core, stretched out and nailed to the ceiling.
The Songspiels take on a mode of musical theatre developed by playwright Bertolt Brecht and composer Kurt Weill in the early twentieth century, presenting political and social concerns through the accessible and (often funny) form of song.
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.