Features
Entering MIT for my Ph.D program, coping with harsh Boston winter and breasting the tape
I vividly remember the day when I stepped through the stone-arched gateway of MIT and entered the iconic main building with its grand dome. A shiver of excitement ran through my spine. I wandered from hall to hall, pausing in awe before the name plaques of world-renowned professors. Visiting the MIT library, I immersed myself in the fragrance of countless books stacked neatly in their shelves.
At the computing center, I stood spellbound, gazing at rows of computers of various models and sizes humming in activity. Could it be that my destiny was already inscribed, even during my days of learning the alphabet from my mother on the blackboard of the Government School in the village of Morahela, Sri Lanka? These experiences would inspiring me to reach even greater heights.
My deep passion for learning and hard work enabled me to excel in the PhD qualification exam, a feat that brought immense joy to my parents, older brother, and academic mentors. I then began my research for the doctoral studies, all the while diligently drafting my dissertation.
During this time, several notable events occurred. Elvis Presley passed away. As I was carrying out my doctoral research at MIT, I met a lecturer from Sri Lanka who studied for his PhD at Boston University. Since he did not have a vehicle, I offered my car for his use. One day, he invited me to his home (he was married) for dinner. There I met another Sri Lankan student who also worked on her PhD at Boston University. Her husband and child were still back in Sri Lanka. She asked me to help her with grocery shopping in my car while saying that I could be her protector.
I met a woman who had studied law at Harvard University, and she later invited me to a gathering at her apartment. There, her friends regarded me as her boyfriend, which left me feeling somewhat uneasy, as I was not. Several days later, she called me, but due to my hectic schedule, we couldn’t meet. Eventually, I attended a gathering that she had organized to celebrate her graduation. During this event, she introduced me to her boyfriend, a white American.
Boston is renowned for its educational institutions, with prestigious universities like MIT, Harvard, Boston University, Tufts, and Northeastern, as well as excellent university colleges being located in that area. Among them, Wellesley College stands out as a private institution for women, known for its elite education for daughters of wealthy families; I heard that Hillary Clinton, the wife of a US president, studied there. Its annual tuition could buy a modest house.
Many of my friends from MIT often attended parties held at Wellesley College over the weekends. One weekend I joined them. I was invited to a friend’s room at Wellesley College, where she inquired if I was interested in smoking marijuana. I explained that I did not indulge in smoking. In that room, there were five or six other men and women. After about an hour, everyone seemed to be under the influence of marijuana, and was dancing to music. Feeling out of place, I slipped away quietly.
Boston Tea Party
Boston and Cambridge—twin cities in Massachusetts—hold a revered place in the history of the American Revolutionary War. Two towering figures, Benjamin Franklin and Paul Revere, lived in Boston in the 18th century. Franklin was not only a revolutionary leader but also a pioneering scientist, famous for revealing principles of electricity through his kite experiments. Revere, riding through the night, warned the townspeople that “the British are coming”—a call that echoed into legend. The house where he lived for over 30 years can still be visited today.
Another defining moment unfolded in Boston Harbor, prior to American independence, the Boston Tea Party. Rather than unloading tea from British ships (probably originating from Ceylon, now Sri Lanka), American workers (patriots) hurled the crates of tea into the water in defiance. The water turned brown because of that, and hence the term. Massachusetts is also the home state of the Kennedy family, including President John F. Kennedy.
Boston today is known for its famous universities, museums, music and theater, fine dining, and seafood. The Boston Common—founded in 1634 and spanning more than fifty acres—is the oldest public park in the United States. Getting around in Boston is easy and affordable on the subway, the first in the nation, built in 1897.
Trapped in snow
I had never faced a winter as harsh as Boston’s while attending MIT. From my ground-floor apartment, a few steps led to the front-yard gate and opening to Pearl Street. Each morning I listened to the news and weather on the radio before heading to campus. One day, a severe snowstorm struck. Because snowplows were in short supply in that unexpected situation, the city announced that only the main roads would be cleared first.
My front window, slightly above street level, looked out toward Pearl Street—but snow plastered the glass so completely that I could see nothing. When I tried to open the door, it would not budge. Nearly four feet of snow had fallen and blocked the entrance. It took a couple of days for workers to dig us out. I stayed indoors, fortunately with electricity, heating, a working phone in the apartment, and enough food in the refrigerator. In that unexpected solitude, I made remarkable progress on my PhD thesis. The storm, in a way, became a blessing.
Reaching the winning post
Two years into my MIT program, I stood at the threshold of completing my doctorate. My research advisor, Professor David Wormley, advised me not to remain at MIT after graduation. Securing a position at the same institution, he cautioned, could narrow my horizons—and in any case would be rare. I agreed. Before my final thesis defense, I applied for faculty positions across the country.
The invitations soon came, each with airfare, hotel, meals, and local transport covered. A typical visit included a seminar by me on my research followed by questions from faculty and students, discussions with senior professors and graduate students, laboratory and computing center tours, and meetings with the department head and the dean. Lunch was on campus; dinner was hosted at a notable restaurant in the city, with some members of the interview panel attending.
I applied to several universities in California, Florida, Texas, Illinois, Michigan, and Pennsylvania and was called for interviews with them. About two weeks after an interview, I would receive a phone call from the department head. Receiving such a call usually brought good news. During the call, we would discuss the salary and research support offered by the university, before making a final decision. If the decision was not in my favor, the notification would come in the form of a letter, not a phone call.
In fact, receiving a phone call quickly after the interview was an indication of their strong interest in me. It was customary to send a thank-you note to the department head immediately after returning from the interview. If I were unwilling to accept the position, I would have to convey that in a thank-you letter, not over the phone. I had several offers. The highest salary offer was from Texas A & M University. The lowest offer was from Carnegie Mellon University (CMU) in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.
There was a personal connection with CMU: Professor Arthur Murphy, the Head of the Department of Mechanical Engineering at Carnegie Mellon University, was a friend of my supervisor, Professor David Wormley. In fact, Professor Murphy visited MIT and interviewed me in person. Then he invited me to visit CMU. About a week after the visit, I received a phone message from Professor Murphy. His call was full of positive news. We discussed the salary and research support.
Even though salary from CMU was somewhat lower than what other institutions had offered, it did not matter. It was still three times what I had earned as a student. I consulted Professor Wormley, who advised me to accept the position at CMU. He was quite right, in hindsight. My decision to accept the offer for a position of Assistant Professor of Mechanical Engineering at CMU was highlighted by the strong reputation of CMU for engineering and computer science.
I sold what I could, gave many larger items to Ramu, packed the rest into my Ford Pinto, and set off from Boston to Pittsburgh. My friends—Amir, an Iranian-American, and David, a Chinese-American—helped me immensely with the move. I was so grateful to them.
Another chapter
During much of my life, I had been a student. Although I worked for a few years as an engineer and a visiting lecturer in Sri Lanka, it was now time to leave behind student life and enter the life of a university professor and researcher. This change allowed me to reflect on my professional journey from the perspective of someone on the other side of academia. As a student, one usually views the life of a professor with marvel and admiration, but as I embarked on this new phase of my career, there was some discomfort in letting go of the identity of a student. However, the time had come to face this new challenges and inevitable reality of academic life. In making my dream a reality, I should face it with resolve and resilience, I thought.
Pittsburgh lies southwest of Boston and slightly north of Cincinnati—about a two-day drive from Boston. So, I decided to drive my Ford Pinto, spend the night in New York City, and head for Pittsburgh the following day. This marked my second visit to the City of New York (NYC), called the Big Apple. This time I stayed in a modest hotel, without troubling a friend as we did in the previous time.
After checking in to the hotel, I took a bath, changed clothes, left the car behind, and took the subway to explore the city. In fact, it was the borough of Manhattan that I visited, the other four boroughs of NYC being Brooklyn, Queens, Staten Island, and the Bronx. As I was hungry, after a short walk in Manhattan, I stumbled upon a pizzeria and ordered a small pizza and a cold drink. The drink arrived first, and fifteen minutes later the “small” pizza appeared—large enough for three. I ate half, boxed the rest, and took it back to my hotel on the subway, planning to eat it later in the night. After hearing this episode, a friend joked it was a miracle that my life was spared as I carried a pizza in New York subway late at night.
By the time I reached Pittsburgh the next day, it was evening. The previous time when I visited Pittsburgh for the job interview, I had arrived by airplane and stayed at the “University Inn” near Carnegie Mellon University. However, when I arrived this time without booking a hotel room, I found that it was fully booked. I then stayed at a nearby hotel called “Howard Johnson,” and on the following day successfully found a permanent apartment to live in from newspaper listings.
Two major universities, Carnegie Mellon and University of Pittsburgh, are located close to each other in Pittsburgh. Although the university campuses are considered to be in the City of Pittsburgh, they are actually located in the District of Oakland, just outside downtown. A large portion of the students and university staff lived outside Oakland. Because of increased cost and congestion, it was difficult to find low-cost and safe accommodation near the university.
My single-bedroom apartment was located at a considerable distance away from Carnegie Mellon campus, in an area known as Green Tree, roughly an hour’s drive. My apartment was in a modern building with excellent facilities. The bathroom, bedroom, dining area with kitchen, and living room were well-planned. It had central heating and cooling, which allowed me to maintain the desired temperature throughout the apartment, while turning the system down when I was away.
The kitchen was equipped with a modern gas stove. However, as there was no furniture, I bought a large bed, a dining table with four chairs, living room furniture, a television, and a music system. As I spent all the money that I had for this purchase, I had to take a loan from my first month’s salary for food and other needs. Thankfully, my small reliable car kept the expenses manageable.
by Clarence de Silva ✍️
Features
Is power devolution under JVP-NPP a political daydream?
The JVP General Secretary Tilvin Silva’s recent remarks at a news conference in Jaffna where he ruled out the possibility of holding provincial council elections this year has been widely reported and widely criticized. About the same time there was another media event in Jaffna that went largely unnoticed and unreported outside Jaffna. What was said at the second media event may carry far more political implications than Tilvin Silva’s election timing talk. A veteran Tamil political participant made the startling yet not implausible statement that the prospect of having political devolution under the JVP-NPP government is becoming “a daydream”. The statement was made by Dr. K. Vigneswaran, who served as Provincial Secretary to the only North-East Provincial Council Government that was elected under the auspices of the Thirteenth Amendment.
Dr. Vigneswaran is a Professional Civil Engineer who studied at Royal College, graduated with First Class Honours in Engineering in 1964, and went on to complete a pioneering PhD at the university of Waterloo, Canada, applying the finite element method (FEM) in the field of Geotechnical Engineering. His engineering career has always been at the Irrigation Department where he rose to a Deputy Director. That was when the department was in its golden years, and Vigneswaran was known for his technical mentorship, meticulous administrative skills, and for knowing the fine print of everything. While at the Irrigation Department, Vigneswaran married Ramya de Silva, a fellow irrigation Engineer. After 1983, Vigneswaran became a fulltime political activist and a powerful resource in Tamil politics, but with unwavering commitment to nonviolence, democracy and federalism. The family moved first to India and then Canada, and Vigneswaran has been shuttling between Canada and Sri Lanka.
Devolution: Tortuous Trajectory
Since 1987, the Indo-Sri Lanka Agreement, and the 13th Amendment, Vigneswaran has been a permanent fixture in all the politics and institutional dynamic of implementing 13A and establishing provincial councils. He served as Secretary to the only elected Provincial Government for the Northern and Eastern Provinces. After 1994 and the election of Chandrika Kumaratunga as President, Vigneswaran became a key participant in all the civil society efforts and government initiatives to restore the PCs and implement 13A, both during the Kumaratunga presidency and the succeeding administrations of Mahinda Rajapaksa and the Sirisena-Wickremesinghe duo.
Devolution efforts stalled after the election of Gotabaya Rajapaksa, who in so many words declared that he had no time for 13A or PCs in his presidential agenda, whatever it was. Only that his whole agenda turned out to be a wholesale disaster for the country. Already by then, all the nine Provincial Councils had fallen into abeyance with the cancellation of the 1988 PC elections by the Sirisena-Wickremesinghe duo, with the TNA standing by. The abeyance continues under the JVP-NPP government with no apparent end in sight after Tilvin de Silva’s statement in Jaffna.
I say all this to provide the proper context for Vigneswaran’s statement in Jaffna that the prospects for power devolution under the JVP-NPP government are becoming a political daydream. He said something else as well: that of all the government leaders he has encountered over the years, the only leader who has been genuinely sincere about power devolution is former President Chandrika Kumaratunga, and no one else. I am constrained to add that the insincere category would include Ranil Wickremesinghe, who for all his handsome promises, never matched any of them with experiential sincerity. The present JVP-NPP government still has time to show that they are not an insincere lot.
It is not my purpose to agree with or question Dr. Vigneswaran’s assertions, but to use them as cue and context to comment on the widening mismatch between the JVP-NPP government’s promises and its practices on the matter of power devolution and the restoration of the PC system. With a stalling economy, rising prices and external shocks, it is obvious that the government has all the economic matters to worry about, but that does not mean that it can ignore all the other government responsibilities. No government is put in power to solve a single problem or address a single issue. It is in the nature of governments to deal with multiple problems with varying priorities. Otherwise you could have a single cabinet minister to deal with one problem at a time. That is never going to be the case.
The economy is of course the top of mind priority for the government even as it is a top of mind concern for the people. Even on the economic front, the government is holding steady but is showing little progress. And there are other government initiatives where political accountability will call for answers: to wit, the catchall Clean Sri Lanka programme, ambitious educational reforms, contentious energy sector reforms and, yes, power devolution as well as the overpromised constitutional reforms. Not to mention the sprawling unforced errors over substandard coal imports, foreign exchange fraud, and the chronic neglect of developing the renewable energy sector. Correcting these fields of errors may require a separate ministry for each.
Devolution: Daydream or Deliverable
On the PC system and constitutional reform, there has been scant progress in spite of handsome promises. On both, the government is inadvertently deepening the holes that it had dug itself into through indifference, inaction or procrastination, or all of them and more. In the matter of devolution and provincial councils, the government can simply defuse the situation by directing the Election Commission to conduct elections at the earliest opportunity that is logistically possible. Making his statement in Jaffna, Mr. Tilvin Silva alluded to funding shortfall and legal complications as reasons for the necessity to postpone PC elections until next year. Neither reason holds water.
The funding question would seem to have been put to rest by the statement of Health Minister and Cabinet Spokesman Nalinda Jayatissa, presumably reflecting cabinet consensus, that there are no funding issues and if needed additional funds could be arranged through supplementary allocations. It is also disingenuous to cite legal complications as a reason. The so called legal complications arose because of the collective stupidity of the Sirisena-Wickremesinghe parliament that included the then miniscule NPP and the politically-lost TNA. The JVP-NPP has now ballooned from a handful MPs to a two-thirds majority and it can expedite any legislation that it wants to enable the PC elections to be held without delays.
Alternatively, the elections can be held under the old arrangement of proportional representation with assurance by political parties to honour their commitment to fielding more female candidates. Already at a gathering of all political parties, including the NPP (but not the JVP), and civil society groups, convened by People’s Action For Free & Fair Elections (PAFFREL), the political parties jointly committed to a 25% quota for women and youth under the old electoral system. The ongoing parliamentary committee exercise studying the legal matter, headed by the overstretched Foreign Minister Vijitha Herath, is also an unnecessary red herring. The Election Commission is ready to go under whatever law or electoral system that is before it. So, there is no reason to hide behind legal complications to further delay the PC elections.
Somewhat amusingly, Public and Parliamentary Affairs Minister Ananda Wijepala has trotted out the argument that the NPP government has already conducted two nationwide elections during the one and a half years it has been in office, and that unlike the Ranil Wickremesinghe government the JVP-NPP is not in the business “to delay elections for our personal benefit” – whatever that means. Unfortunately, the good minister is missing the point. The question is not how many elections can the JVP-NPP hold in how many years, but how many years do people in the provinces have to wait before they vote in another provincial election? How many more years? That really is the question.
We know the current situation in the provinces. There are provincial governments but no elected provincial councils. The government administration in every province is being run by the President of the Republic through his handpicked governors and unelected government officials. This is a travesty of democracy and the euthanizing of the PC system. Already under 13A, the office of the provincial governors has been constitutionally and legally compared to the office of the Governors of old Ceylon who represented the monarch in what was then a crown colony. The irony is that a JVP-NPP President may have inadvertently positioned himself as the monarch of all he provincially surveys, courtesy of the Thirteenth Amendment!
The JVP was in the forefront of the litigation that caused the demerger of the Northern and Eastern Provinces. If Dr. Vigneswaran’s assertion were to prove correct, a potential dissolution of the provincial system under the JVP-NPP government would be the consummation of the JVP’s original opposition to the introduction of the provincial council system itself. The whole system may not be eradicated, but it could be devoured of its democratic essence while preserving the administrative shell as the medium for the country’s president to overreach into the provinces. That would be worse than a daydream, a real nightmare.
by Rajan Philips ✍️
Features
Rewiring Brain: Meditation to Break the Cycle of Craving
“Craving begets sorrow, craving begets fear. For him who is free from craving there is no sorrow; how can there be fear for him,” Dhammapada verse 216 states. The mental factor craving, Tanha in Pali, is central to Buddhist Teaching, as its ultimate goal is the cessation or extinction of it—tanhakkhaya. Even though Tanha is translated as craving here, it can sometimes mislead modern readers into thinking tanha only refers to extreme or physical addictions. Just as with any Pali term, it has broad meanings. Venerable Walpola Rahula describes it as “thirst” or unceasing wanting, one of the deep-rooted proclivities or latent tendencies (anusaya) of life (Rahula 1959), without which life as we know would not exist.
Even though the Buddha recognized this natural phenomenon two and a half millennia ago, it was only in the late 20th century that science took note of it and gave it a captivating term—the Hedonic Treadmill. The advantage of this empirical investigation to us Buddhists is that it provides a way to gain penetrative, experiential comprehension (anubodha) of this concept using the vernacular of this technology-savvy age—an alternative to struggling with the language of a bygone era.
These investigations have revealed that there are no hard-to-comprehend metaphysical or mysterious elements involved with this phenomenon; it is a biochemical process fundamental to sustaining life. What is more, an effort to grasp this concept would be well within the goals of Vipassana meditation described in the Sutta Pitaka, incorporating the four elements of investigation: body (kayanupassana), sensations (vedananupassana), mind (chittanupassana), and natural laws (dhammanupassana).
Vipassana and modern science
Vipassana meditation is an in-depth exploration of how humans perceive the world, gain knowledge, and interact with themselves and the environment. Knowing this with wisdom allows one to lead a harmonious way of life (samadhi), a condition conducive to curbing the “thirst” and achieving the Buddhist ideal. The goal of modern science is also to investigate life, but humanity has often used that knowledge to increase material wealth and comfort, providing only lip service to spirituality on the fringe.
An attitude that tends to ignore the consequences of wanting more and more – thirst, potentially endangering the planet. However, that does not prevent us from using scientific information as and aid or a tool to grasp Buddhist concepts. The scientific method bears parallels to the Buddhist approach: it is based on causality (paticcasamuppada), empirical verification (ehipassiko), systematic observation (meditation), and rejecting dogma and beliefs. The primary difference is simply the vocabulary used.
The process of perception: five aggregates
Our five external sense organs receive data (vedana) containing information on the environment: Eyes: receive light, Ears: receive sound, Skin: senses physical contact and temperature, Nose & Tongue: sense chemical properties of substances. The data received by the sense organs is transmitted to the brain, where it is registered as neural networks (sanna). Neural networks, which are interconnected groups of nerve cells (neurons) can be viewed as mind-readable QR codes.
The activity of the brain, or mind (mano), processes this data and converts them into actionable information (sankhara). Modern neuroscience and psychology have made great advances in understanding these processes at the molecular level. This process allows the individual to become aware of their environment, build an autobiographical memory or the notion of a self (atta), and take actions to protect and perpetuate life.
The Pali term vinnana refers to the collection of information committed to memory. Translating vinnana as “consciousness” can be confusing, as the latter often refers to all brain activities. All physical phenomena that sense organs encounter and the mental constructs (sankhara) are referred to as Rupa. This activity of mind forms the basis of all knowledge, representing the entire world as perceived by the individual. This process is what the Teaching refers to as the Five Aggregates (pancakkhanda). The critical takeaway is that the world we perceive is merely a mental construct. While an objective world exists, our sense organs have limitations in seeing it—a fact easily realized through the hundreds of illusions used for entertainment.
Evolution and emotion
The evolutionary purpose of this data processing mechanism is to enable living beings to respond to environmental factors for survival. The psychological and physiological state that arises prior to acting is called emotion. Primarily, emotions can be of three kinds: desire (loba) – seeing a new phone causes an urge to buy it, even though the current one works fine; aversion (dosha) – encountering a vicious dog triggers a “fight or flight” response; delusion (moha) or illusion – an unanswered message to a loved one triggers worry or speculation. Thus, tanha or thirst represents how we connect to the world in its entirety; it can be desire, aversion, and delusion, not merely simple greed. Consequently, these are natural phenomena beyond our immediate control, which are intended to sustain life. In other words, emotions are the forerunner to volitions or intentions, which the Teaching defines as kamma.
The biochemistry of craving
Emotions result from the interaction between the nervous system and biochemicals known as neurotransmitters and neuromodulators (e.g., dopamine, serotonin, epinephrine, GABA, glutamate, acetylcholine, and endorphins). Just as the Buddha’s simile of two bundles of bamboo supporting each other describes, these two processes are interdependent and co-arising. Every thought or emotional state corresponds to patterns of neural firing. When neurons fire, they release these chemicals into synapses, influencing how one feels and acts. This release perturbs the body’s normal balance, or homeostasis. Once an action is complete, these chemicals are reabsorbed, and the body returns to its baseline.
Return to baseline is essential for survival. For example, if we stay satisfied with just one meal forever, we could not sustain life. Nature has developed another mechanism to prevent us from being satisfied – we also habituate. In the case of dopamine, the brain adapts by reducing the response to the same stimulus. To get the same level of satisfaction with repeated experiences, the amounts of neurotransmitters needed keeps increasing. This leads to the cycle of craving and dissatisfaction—the Hedonic Treadmill. You “run” toward happiness on the treadmill, but it does not take you anywhere, leaving you in the same emotionally unsatisfactory state, wanting more and more.
Breaking the cycle
This explains why achievements and possessions do not bring permanent happiness, and lead to a cycle of struggle, addiction, crime, and other ills of society. For Buddhists, it also explains why we cling to meaningless rituals. The Dhamma captured this complex phenomenon in the Four Noble Truths: pleasant experiences are impermanent (anicca), leading to grasping (tanha) and unsatisfactoriness (dukkha). The remedy is the Eightfold Path that involves wisdom (panna), conduct (sila), and harmony (samadhi).
Neuroplasticity and the point of liberation
While we cannot stop the sense organs from receiving stimulation (vedana) and sending them to brain, the mind can be developed to prevent vedana from leading to tanha. This is the “point of liberation,” the seventh link in the paticcasamuppada formula. We may not have free will, but we have ‘Free Won’t’ or the ability to say no to the natural tendency to act upon stimuli. We can rewire our neural connections to do so. This ability can be cultivated by practice and repetition, and neuroscience refers to it as neuroplasticity—the brain’s ability to change with experience.
The natural tendency of the brain is to strengthen frequently used neural networks while weakening and eliminating lesser used networks and building new ones as needed. This is known as neural plasticity or rewiring the brain. As described in the Eight-fold Path, the way to weaken and eliminate dopamine-driven neural networks includes three aspects. First, the process leading to thirst must be understood. One must engage in sila – activities and thoughts that cultivate Metta: loving-kindness and goodwill, Karuna: compassion, Mudita: appreciative joy, and Upekkha: equanimity, emotional stability, calmness, and evenness of mind in the face of gain and loss, praise and blame, fame and disrepute, pleasure, and pain. That must be done with wisdom, ritualistic behavior does not strengthen the correct neural networks. These activities promote a “cocktail” of oxytocin, serotonin, and GABA, subduing the role of dopamine and helping us step off the Hedonic Treadmill. This leads to a tranquil state of mind and a harmonious existence – samadhi. Again, it is an interdependent, co-arising process that improves upon repetition. Using mind altering substances hijacks this process, thus the need for adhering to the Fifth Precept.
The goal of Vipassana is to understand this process and train the mind to say “no” to tanha. It is not just about sitting on a mat; it requires developing a lifestyle that maintains homeostasis or harmony, samadhi, at every moment. Pali term bhavana means the development of wisdom and insight. In modern vernacular – rewiring brain. This model must be assessed for its efficacy by the individual and realize the benefits by themselves –ehipassiko; knowledge without practice does not work. According to what the Buddha taught, that is the path to cessation or extinction of craving – tanhakkhaya, the supreme goal.
by Geewananda Gunawardana, Ph.D. ✍️
Features
‘Spectrum’ Art Exhibition Showcases Emerging Talent at Lionel Wendt
A new art exhibition, titled Spectrum ,will be held at the Lionel Wendt Art Centre on the 20th and 21st of June 2026, bringing together a collection of works by ten emerging artists.
Athsara Wijegunawardena
Neha Thirumavalavan
Dillai Joseph
Wasantha Siriwardena
Champika Dias
Nipun Dias
Dr. Prasanna Siriwardena
Kalhari Perera
Siromi Samarasinghe
Chandana Illankone
All ten artists have trained under the guidance of renowned Sri Lankan artist Royden Gibbs, and this exhibition marks an important point in their individual journeys.
Spectrum brings together a mix of styles, subjects and approaches, giving visitors a chance to experience a wide range of work in one place. The exhibition will include pieces in watercolors, soft pastels, oils and charcoal, reflecting both the discipline and personal direction of each artist. The work ranges from scenery and portraits to still life and studies of the human form, offering different ways of seeing and interpreting familiar subjects.
- Nipun Dias
- Wasantha Siriwardena
Although they share the same mentor, each artist presents a distinct point of view. The result is a show that feels varied yet connected, with each piece carrying its own character and intent. It is this balance that gives Spectrum its identity.
The exhibition aims to support and highlight emerging talent within Sri Lanka’s art scene, while also creating a space where artists and audiences can connect. Visitors will find work that shifts between quiet observation and more expressive pieces, making it an engaging experience for both seasoned collectors and those simply interested in art.
Spectrum is expected to draw art lovers, collectors, students and members of the wider creative community. It also offers an opportunity to discover and support new artists at an early stage in their careers.
Open to the public over two days, Spectrum invites visitors to experience a range of work in a venue that has long been part of Colombo’s cultural landscape.
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