‘Forget all labels’: How Arjuna Gunarathne would like viewers to approach his first show in India

When I visited Colombo’s Saskia Fernando Gallery in June to see Arjuna Gunarathne’s solo exhibition, there were two things that I noticed immediately – the presence of plants and trees and solitary figures who are the mainstay of his landscapes.

Both made partial sense to me, having spent some time travelling around the small island nation besieged by a long civil war and recent economic adversities. The interplay of colours, almost quixotic, embodied a deft hand at work.

Arjuna Gunarathne studied art in Colombo followed by Lahore and finally, London where he now lives. His work has been shown in India before including the last edition of the India Art fair but his first solo in India, Solitary Gardens is being held at Mumbai’s Akara Contemporary friNov 23-Dec 27). I recently spoke with the artist about his practice, growing up in Sri Lanka, life as an immigrant in London and ways of looking at his art. Excerpts from our conversation.

Do you remember how you began to paint?

It is a difficult question. There’s no linear trajectory so to speak. My art education all along has been unstructured. It is a combination of self-learning with what I was taught at the art institutions that I attended later in life. But going back to my childhood, I don’t remember how and why it began. My father worked as an accountant and my mother was a teacher. The only thing I enjoyed doing in school was art.

I think every child aspires to be an artist. I drew portraits of my family and the landscape of my town in Matale. You will still find these echoes in my work. Matale is a very beautiful place. The art education in school wasn’t very helpful. There were no art museums in Sri Lanka then. The few exhibitions that I saw while growing up in Matale were held by local artists.

My grandfather was a craftsperson and I remember visiting him during school holidays and observing his work for long hours. May be that is how the seed was sown. I also remember a neighbour I used to chat with who worked in a batik shop. Very hard to tell what nurtured the artist inside me but I had realised early on that art was the only thing I wanted to do.

Tell us about the Sri Lanka of your childhood and youth.

There’s a lot said about the beauty of Sri Lanka which is completely true. I did not have access to any museums while growing up but we went to many heritage sites and saw extravagant Buddhist murals in various temples. That was no less an education for an aspiring artist. Certainly, there was all pervasive political tension while growing up during the civil war. People feared for their security. I would say that we somehow learnt to survive.

May be these prolonged adversities also made us very grounded people. Matale, where I grew up is a very small place. We are far from Colombo. I still remember the first proper art exhibition that I saw in Colombo when I went there to study art was by George Keyt who is also famous in India. I realised what a proper exhibition looked like and how impressive his works were.

You have lived away from Sri Lanka for more than two decades or so. Yet you are still referred to as a Sri Lankan artist. Do you like this identification?

I left Sri Lanka to study art. I wanted to travel and see art in Europe. I have no control over how I am branded. It is a kind of typecasting which I am not very happy about. At the same time, my paintings certainly reflect my experiences of life in Sri Lanka and later as an economic immigrant in England. I know many who share a similar trajectory and they too show up in my work.

I have lived in London for 20 years and I am sure you know that it has not been easy to set up and sustain a practice in a society that’s not very welcoming. There are more opportunities for artists of colour in the West now but a lot more has to be done for a level playing field. I would rather prefer if am not tied to a single location. I want to be free. My paintings could be set anywhere and seen by anyone.

When your work is seen or shown in exhibitions, are there certain expectations in terms of what you will paint and the stories you will tell because of your Sri Lankan identity?

I won’t deny that there’s a tendency to label us or our work. My life and the people I live with appear in my work. So, you can call it South Asian or immigrant experience or whatever but I wish that my work is also seen beyond the lens of immigration. It is very disappointing for me as an artist when my work is perceived this way. Perhaps this is also an easy way to pigeonhole me and my practice and write about it. It often suggests as if there’s nothing more to see or discuss about my work.

I am more concerned about the form and texture of my painting. Story comes much later. The training that I received in art school in London is contrary to how my work is often seen or perceived and curators and fellow artists here always caution me about it.

The use of colours in your paintings is striking and the first thing one might notice in your work. How do you use colours?

There’s no special methodology but I sometimes randomly choose colours for my paintings. I pick the colors that I like from the colour box which I disassemble every time I paint. I like to change the order in which colours are usually arranged in the colour box. This throws up interesting results because most often we tend to work with the same or a fixed set of colours. I therefore mix colours, put one against another and then wait for the outcome.

The result is very vibrant as you can see and it also creates a playfulness in my works.

Who are the people in your paintings?

Me and my family – wife, two kids. And others that I know. There’s no individual in my paintings that I haven’t seen or met in real life. I am not trying to imitate their appearance but they are the people that I know. People often ask me about isolated individuals in my paintings. Who are they and what are they doing?

I see these people around me all the time – at bus stops, on the street, at grocery stores. Even when I leave my house to come to my studio. I can instinctively connect with these figures. I saw one such man just before coming to the studio today and I think he is going to enter the next canvas that I paint.

There are very few women in your paintings. Is there a reason?

That’s a very good observation. I must think more about this. The only women in my paintings are my wife and daughter. Even in the suburbs of London where I live, I don’t see too many women walking alone or at the park by themselves. They are always with company. The trees that you see in my paintings help to establish this isolation or sense of loneliness. It anchors the painting. I paint what I see when I look around and I am always looking.

Also I often find people talking in your paintings. What are they talking about?

(Laughs) They are sharing experiences and stories of life and challenges of living perhaps. Talking to another individual is important. It is certainly important to me and maybe I am reflecting that in my work. Not only to broaden your understanding of the world but I think talking to another person is a very humane act.

The local English people don’t connect with us very much. They don’t make an effort to understand us but there are a lot of us here. There are demarcated social spaces for interactions. Most Asians either meet in temples or in the privacy of their homes. And when they meet, they talk.

Painting is your primary medium. Every now and then we hear about the “end of painting”. Do you pay any attention to these discussions?

Painting will live as long as humans are around. It is as old or even older than us. It is a part of human life. For me, it is my life and expression. Even a habit. Just not a vocation or craft. Painting will not die. It is as human as we are.

You have shown in India before but this is your first solo. How would you like your work to be seen?

I have never been to India. I hope I can visit soon. It is a great opportunity for me to show my work in Mumbai. I would appreciate if the viewers try to understand the imagination of the painter and the work. Forget all the labels. Leave all pre-conceived ideas behind. Look at the image closely. Engage with the colour and form. Try to listen to the characters in my painting. What more can a painter ask for?

Kunal Ray teaches at FLAME University, Pune and writes on art and culture.