Phots courtesy of PRSFG
In Dreaming of Candies and Guns, Anupa Perera’s exhibition at the Paradise Road Saskia Fernando Gallery (PRSFG), still life serves as a powerful lens to examine turbulent intersections of politics, conflict and environmental degradation. Perera fuses classical techniques with contemporary subject matter, juxtaposing everyday objects, militaristic symbols and surreal elements to provoke deeper reflection. Drawing from both personal experience and collective memory, Perera uses still life not just as a form of expression but as a vessel for storytelling, critique and transformation.
Answering questions from Groundviews, Perera delves into the inspirations, symbolism and evolving vision behind Dreaming of Candies and Guns. He explores how stillness can speak volumes and how art can serve as both a mirror and a catalyst in a fractured world.
The exhibition explores political unrest and environmental issues through still life. What drew you to this approach?
This marks my second solo exhibition and my intention is to elevate the still life genre, inviting viewers to look beyond its aesthetic appeal and engage with the deeper narratives it holds. My aim with this body of work has been to address the socio-political realities of our time, focusing on the consequences of conflict, whether within the context of Sri Lanka or globally. Still life which is traditionally seen as beautiful and serene becomes a medium for exploring more complex issues in this exhibition.
Your work featured seemingly unrelated objects like food, household items and weapons. How do you decide which objects to include in your compositions?
I deliberately choose items that might appear to be mismatched with one another. For instance, I juxtapose everyday objects like food and household items with militaristic symbols such as guns. It’s within this deliberate dissonance that my message becomes most impactful. While traditional still life might focus on harmonious arrangements, I try to challenge that convention by introducing unexpected elements like plastic toy guns. This approach invites the viewer to reconsider the genre, offering a fresh perspective on what still life can represent in today’s world.
You adopt techniques from Renaissance masters with a contemporary touch. How do these classical influences shape your artistic vision?
I draw inspiration not only from the Renaissance but also from the Baroque period. I feel that the essence of classical techniques resonates within contemporary art even when the methods themselves aren’t directly replicated. By employing the techniques of these classical periods, I am able to portray modern subjects such as plastic, an object that didn’t exist in the time of the Renaissance masters such as Leonard De Vinci.
Can you share the meaning behind a particular piece that holds a personal symbolic significance for you?
In my artwork Holder, I reflect on the events I have witnessed over my lifetime and the history of Sri Lanka. The coloured cubes in the piece represent different years of significance such as the invasions by the Portuguese, Dutch and English, as well as various coups and civil conflicts. These events are interwoven into the fabric of Sri Lanka’s bloody history, which has ultimately shaped the current state of affairs. The red fabric that stretches across the canvas symbolizes a river of blood, echoing the violence and suffering endured over decades. The colours used in the piece are not random; they hold deep cultural and historical significance in Sri Lanka. I’ve matched specific shades with the numbering on the blocks and incorporated the initials of names that have been used to refer to Sri Lanka throughout its history. The dark background serves as a representation of both a tragic past and a murky future. The title Holder reflects the idea of holding on – retaining memories, struggles and a painful history. This piece is deeply personal, as it comes from my own experiences as well as collective experiences of our society and the emotional weight of witnessing the unresolved traumas that continue to shape the nation.
Your piece Crying Unicorn makes a powerful statement about the destruction in Gaza. What is the message you want to convey?
I explore themes I haven’t delved into before, making it distinct from my usual style. The unicorn, often associated with childhood innocence and fantasy, is a symbol of purity and joy, something many children are drawn to. However, in this piece, the unicorn is pierced with arrows, crying in pain. The rubble in the background, a result of bombings, alludes to the devastation in Gaza that has been visible in our media. Through the imagery of the unicorn, I want to highlight the tragic reality that children, despite being the most innocent, often suffer the most in these conflicts. Despite all the advances in development and the rhetoric around human rights, we continue to lack the empathy needed to protect the most vulnerable among us. This piece is a call for reflection on our collective failure to shield the innocent from the horrors of war.
Still life is traditionally associated with realism yet your work often introduces surreal elements. How do you come up with these ideas?
I constantly strive to find a fresh approach, something that hasn’t been seen before, especially in the context of the still life medium in Sri Lanka. Traditionally, still life has adhered to a more realistic, often static form, but I believe it’s important to evolve and explore new approaches from time to time. Introducing surreal elements allows me to push the boundaries of this genre and offer something new and thought provoking for the audience.
Your artwork reflects on society’s desensitisation to violence. How do you balance critique and playfulness in your compositions without overwhelming the viewer?
My work examines the implications of violence but I aim to present these themes in a way that isn’t heavy handed or unpleasant. I want the audience to be drawn in by the vibrant colors and engaging objects, allowing them to appreciate the visual appeal before they are prompted to reflect on the underlying message. The playfulness in the composition serves as an entry point, where the viewer is gently led into a more profound critique.
In Freedom, you use paper boats in a suspended, dreamlike arrangement. What message or emotions do you hope viewers take away from this piece?
The use of suspended paper boats creates an unusual, almost surreal visual that I hope will captivate and thrill the audience. For me, freedom is about the absence of ties. The paper boats, floating freely in mid-air, symbolise liberation from gravity, unbound from the surface of the water. The suspended plastic bowl further emphasises this sense of release from any connection to the ground. The piece suggests that true freedom comes when we are unburdened by the ties that hold us down – less attachment leads to a greater sense of liberty.
Having exhibited in various galleries across Colombo, how has the Sri Lankan art scene influenced your practice and artistic evolution?
Most of my exhibitions have been group shows, which have given me a wealth of experience. The Sri Lankan art scene has been incredibly enriching, offering great audiences who engage deeply with the work, often taking the time to converse with artists and truly understand the pieces. This interaction has helped me grow as an artist, offering valuable insights and perspectives.
What future themes or concepts are you interested in exploring?
The feedback and new experiences I’ve gained from this exhibition have provided me with greater clarity on what I want to focus on moving forward. While I’m still exploring potential themes, I know I want to continue working with a central concept that ties a body of work together. Alongside this I am committed to refining my technique and further honing my skills. The specific theme may not be defined just yet but it will evolve from my experiences and the events happening around us.
Dreaming of Candies and Guns by Anupa Perera will run until April 22 at PRSFG, 138 Galle Road, Colombo 3.