
Jarrod Fowler
Jarrod Fowler
What is the radical concept at the core of ‘rhythm’, expanded from simply musical or mathematical notions to encompass personal, social, collective rhythms?
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.
What is the radical concept at the core of ‘rhythm’, expanded from simply musical or mathematical notions to encompass personal, social, collective rhythms?
Journalist and underground music champion Alan Cummings talks to Keiji Haino about his career and his performance the previous evening.
Three speakers play back pre-recorded sounds, Marc listens and responds: “What is played is the imperfect witness of what I listen to (or maybe better, how I listen).”
How do we sense entanglement? Can the knotting of ropes according to a poem’s rhythm make the social pulse of language matter?
Michael Colligan pressing white hot metal into dry ice, causing the metal to sing and scream.
Glasgow. Free-playing quartet of bass/ cello/ voice from The Glasgow Improvisors Orchestra and Age Of Wire & String.
Brother and sister stumble over the early morning horizon in a spectral haze of emotionally devastating lunar vocals and oblique, lithium-soaked folk.
Performances of compositions by Jean-Luc Guionnet and others, with Julia Letitia Scott, Iain Campbell F-W, Neil Davidson, Fritz Welch, Liene Rozite, Emilia Beatriz.
Is it possible to dance our way out of the hardened stances and identity prisons we are locked in?
Includes: solar flares, insect fireworks, a new film from Ian Helliwell, pulsating glaciers, an apple being eaten alive, sea ravaged stock, crushed blackberries and film that has literally risen from the grave.
A landmark film on black life – a poetic filmic constellation of meditations, fragments and interviews on what it means to be black in America in the 21st century, from one of its great cinematographers.
An utterly deep introspection told in aching, weeping guitar lines; melodic, simple, always minimal but somehow entirely epic.