Emma Hart & Benedict Drew
Benedict Drew Emma Hart
An original and beautifully simple performed installation forging a direct link between sound and image.
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.
An original and beautifully simple performed installation forging a direct link between sound and image.
Tell Me About It creates a space for direct one-to-one conversations with people who habitually find others (filmmakers, politicians, journalists) speaking on their behalf… In partnership with Edinburgh Art Festival.
Emotional fantasies, towers of cakes, identity troubles, collapsed distance and time and Samuel R. Delany’s rarely seen 1971 film The Orchid.
In this workshop we will imagine ourselves as time travellers from a glorious and chaotic neurodivergent-led future.
Transfeminist and revolutionary poetry, voice and timbral abstraction: a sounding and spatialising of reparative sonic and somatic practices that can speak back to violent histories of expropriation and ecocide.
This set continues on from the Bud Neill inspired clatter using the contents of the Usurper twin’s pockets.
Cardboard boxes, metal guitar, critical homage, attempts to describe things you can’t describe. A one-man Grand Guignol school play.
There exist places in our towns and cities that are created not by design, but by circumstance. Shadowed Spaces was a tour of overlooked, bypassed and unconsidered nooks and crannies with 3 musicians.
Voguing, drag, clubbing, and the politics of communities making different performances of gender and sexuality visible.
Edinburgh. Beer and smoke befuddled drone/ deadly efforts by Pjorn72 kingpin.
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.
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.