Features

An Imaginary Museum or a Museum Without Walls:

Published

4 years ago

2022/10/13

Asura Nikaya, an underworld (detail) Gothabhaya Rajamahaviharaya, Bothale Early 1930s Image Credits: The Rock and wall paintings of Sri Lanka. Lake House Publishers, Colombo

David Paynter and L.T.P. Manjusri

(Part one of this article appeared in Midweek Review yesterday.)

by Laleen Jayamanne

Eclecticism and Abstraction

It would appear that a book or two might be written about the lesser known history of 20th Century Lankan modern art and visual culture, which seems to be much wider than the art historical accounts of 43 Group Modernism. There must be many others as well. For example, one comes across the name of H.A. Karunaratne as an abstract painter influenced by Euro-American abstraction as having held a solo exhibition in 1956 at the USISC. What response did this exhibition receive in that momentous year of the triumph of Sinhala-Buddhist Nationalist exceptionalism after Sir John Kothalawala’s pro-American government was defeated. Then there is the Ian Goonatilake collection bequeathed to the University of Peradeniya and now languishing in the basement of the library, stored under poor conditions, awaiting a dedicated gallery. While it is well known that his collection consists of a large number of George Keyt drawings because of his wide taste and sympathies his collection might hold potential for considering a somewhat decentred (less linear), art historical narratives of the twentieth century. The blatantly self-interested, thin accounts that pass as recent art history can thereby be displaced by more careful art historical research with rigorous conceptual frameworks. The history of the use of colour in the move from the Buddhist temple paintings to the easel and then from easel to Christian church walls and back as in the case of Paynter would be fascinating to explore within a theoretical framework. Such a framework might explore the generative philosophico-aesthetic discourses on the links between colour, affect and thought, for example. There, colour is considered to be the most immaterial manifestation of matter, haunted by spirit. Colour within such an optic is a force of metamorphosis.

Christian Themes

Christian themed art also would have to be explicitly taken into account in the narrative of Lankan modern art when studying Paynter’s work. What links might there be, say, between Richard Gabriel and Paynter who composed Christian religious scenes in murals in chapels, too. It is certainly noteworthy that in the large murals he created in the Trinity College chapel in the ‘30s, Paynter’s Jesus and disciples are presented with brown skin tones. This fact alone is the decision of an original artist because it was decades prior to the radical Vatican 2 reforms of the ’60s, which lead to adopting vernacular forms and realities in Catholic Church ritual. The vegetation and light in the landscapes of some biblical scenes are those of Lanka of the East coast, I am told. Chandrajeewa, too, has done a large scale series of 46 bronze murals on the history of Christianity in Lanka around the Basilica on a hill top at Thewatta (surrounded by rubber trees, as I remember from my school visits there for church feasts) near Ragama though he himself does not subscribe to any religious faith. Barbara Sansoni’s Christian murals would be of interest in such a context. A national collection can create digital installations of site-specific religious work such as these to educate Lankans about the religious diversity of our art and culture as well. Inter-faith dialogue would certainly be enhanced by such educational ‘tools’ made available to school-children especially, but also to the more ethnocentric and parochial Lankans. It could then also be a point of entry to understanding something about our long colonial history and religious violence of the Portuguese who converted Lankans at gunpoint. Both my parents and grandparents came from the thin strip of coastal fishing villages (just a stones throw from the Colombo harbour), starting from Uswatakeiyawa, Kapungoda and Pamunugama, all mostly Roman Catholic, during my childhood. The largest buildings in each of these villagers were the local churches built on Italian models with large statues of white saints, mother Mary and Jesus. There were a few French parish priests who also spoke fluent Sinhala.

A Queer Aesthetic: Exploring the +

Evolution 1973 L.T.P. Manjusri (1902-1982)
Water colour on Paper 36.5 X 31 cm
Image Credits : http://www.artsrilanka.org/retrospective/manjushri/19731.html

Is there an embryonic queer sensibility, and a radical aesthetic, in Paynter’s ‘Offering’ (1926), of an ethereal youth, standing naked in a dreamy, somewhat Pre-Raphaelit landscape, with raised arms, delicate hand gesture, holding a white flower, for instance? Perhaps, there are ‘elective affinities’ to be drawn between Wendt’s homo erotic photography of young men and some of Paynter’s work. Or, are their differences more productive for exploring the diversity of queer aesthetics well before such a term was invented to address social reality of LGBTQI rights? Paynter’s ‘Apres Midi’ (‘Afternoon’, 1935) is an astonishing work full of surprises, even now. The inclusion of the title in French immediately evokes the 1911 ballet ‘Afternoon of a Faun’ choreographed and performed by Nijinsky in his lover Diaghilev’s company, Ballet Russes, in Paris, with Debussy’s music. Apart from that notable allusion to a highly sexualised performance that shocked the traditional ballet audience, the two Lankan figures, one facing us, and the other, appears to be his double, a mirror image, though all we do see is his back view. There is an essay to be written about this doubling and elegant most subtle ‘performance of narcissism,’ in the sense of an exploration of a queer subjectivity, the very formation of a sense of ‘self’ based on similarity rather than sexual difference. The facial expression of the slim tall figure (so unlike Nijinsky’s muscular compact short body), is thoughtful, as he looks at ‘the other’ and his features suggest that he might be a Lankan of Malay descent perhaps. As with ‘Offering’, here too the male figure holds a red flower, reminiscent of the distilled eroticism seen in Moghul miniatures. In Paynter’s tropical ‘Afternoon’ there is a more every-day feel as well because of the towels and informal postures – are ‘they’ about to swim in the river behind them? The blue green bamboo grove creates a lush tropical heaven for ‘the couple’. Might we think of it as a queer self-portrait perhaps? If so it’s quite different from his earlier, personal ‘Self-Portrait’ (1927), where the ‘self’ is decentred, seen in a mirror image, while a vase of overflowing pink lotus blossoms occupies the centre. As early as that, he is painting the iconic flower in Buddhist iconography, rather than the readily available English roses of Nuwara-Eliya which is where the Paynter Home was located.

Then there is the painting of a group of fishermen and male onlookers after a catch. While some onlookers are fully clothed, the two fishermen in the foreground are conspicuous not because they wear only loin cloths (which is realistic) but because of the way their anatomy is modelled.

The anatomy of the two prominent fishermen are modelled in such a way that their biceps, pectoral and abdominal muscles are beautifully articulated. Lankan men who do heavy manual work have wiry limbs, sinewy muscles, a function of diet and genetics, they are certainly not moulded and fashioned quite like those on these two fishermen. Though these conspicuous muscular details are not realistic, the scene nevertheless has a powerful ethnographic vitality. The choreography of each gaze has an intensity, a realism, as each figure looks intently in slightly different directions. Their features evoke a specific Lankan era. I remember the men who looked like that in my maternal grandfather’s fishing village, Uswatekeiyawa. My grandfather tied his hair in a little knot just like some of them in the picture.

Wendt’s photographs of young men’s bodies are quite different. Their gaze is rather more diffused. It’s his play with and command of light and shade and chemical processing that sculpts their bodies, either caught straining in manual work or relaxed in posed still lives. In striking contrast, Paynter has given his standing fishermen a deep, anatomically grounded musculature that feels so contemporary in its fashioning, sculpting of desire. Thereby, he helps us (straight folk also) to understand how a Queer sensibility is crafted and invented as a fertile affective zone of aesthetic innervation, which also includes nature. These two paintings have a quiet theatrical and even cinematic sensibility (i. e. there is movement and drama), which reminds me of Pier Paolo Pasolini’s cinema, especially Gospel According to St Mathew. Pasolini however, was a flamboyantly public gay artist and poet. I feel that Paynter’s work offers young LGBTQI+ artists a vital tradition to draw from, not imitate. Some of them might have been at that Gay Pride March in Colombo sponsored by the Aragalaya recently, which I saw on You Tube. I hear Paynter the teacher say, ever so softly: ‘explore the +’. With just a slight turn, artists may change the + into an x.

These are thoughts that occur to me as I glance at Paynter’s work in the catalogue edited by Chandrajeewa, issued at the inaugural J.D.A. Perera Gallery, which houses 19 of Paynter’s work at the University of Visual and Performing Arts. But ‘The Afternoon’, sadly, is in a foreign gallery. This rare gift was given to the very institution whose Sinhala-Buddhist nationalist students and staff got rid of Paynter in 1963, through an ugly racist campaign against him, calling him a ‘Burgher suddha’!

I know that Professor Ashley Halpe, himself a painter, introduced Paynter’s art to students of Fine Arts at Peradeniya University and accompanied them to the Trinity College Chapel to look at the murals Paynter had designed in the 1930s. By the way, Prof Halpe was a Roman Catholic, who nurtured extracurricular student life on campus generously with an open house filled with painting and music every Friday, enthusiastically supported by his wife Bridgette.

What is to be Done?

I hope young Lankan art historians might take a cue from the marvellous idea of the ‘Memory Walks’ conducted by the ‘Collective for Historical Dialogue and Memory’ and go off the beaten track to find out what was made; what has been lost and the provenance of work that really should have been in a national collection but are now in private homes and overseas galleries and in damp basements, even locked away in a vault. Perhaps, only such dedicated hands-on work by scholars with intellectual and social capital and spiritual stamina might eventually convince the National Museum to open one of its majestic wings to house whatever is left of modern 20th Century art and Visual Culture of a multi-ethnic, multi-religious Lanka. On the other hand, as some folk in the Aragalaya suggested, perhaps the official residence of the President, which was formerly known as the Queens’s House but has become the President’s House, can be converted like the European palaces into a museum of modern and contemporary art and the art work of the Aragalaya too.

Perhaps, an archive of photographs of work that has been sold or stolen or unavailable in the public domain can be compiled digitally just so that future generations of artists might get to know the eclectic variety of work that had been created by their multi-ethnic, multi-faith, queer and straight ‘ancestors.’ Then, they might begin to understand deeply some of the ideas and passions which animated the skilled and dedicated modern Lankan artists of the 20th and 21st Centuries. Such a virtual collection might be called following the famous idea of French Minister of Culture Andre Malraux, ‘An Imaginary Museum’ or ‘Museum Without Walls.’ Such a museum would, I hope, assemble an eclectic (non-partisan), collection of art- work with the power to nurture life in a multi-ethnic, multi-cultural, multi-faith Lanka.

Here is a link to Paynter’s Apres Midi (Afternoon, 1935).

https://thuppahis.com/2022/03/27/david-paynters-open-homosexuality-on-display- then/

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Features

Eastern University and the making of a culture of peace

Published

24 hours ago

2026/09/29

Sahan Weerasooriya

by Jehan Perera

There is an important change in the way peace is being understood in Sri Lanka. The notion that peacebuilding is not simply the responsibility of governments, politicians and peace organisations, but is also a responsibility of educational institutions, appears to be permeating the consciousness of at least a section of the academic community. This was visible on International Peace Day at an event held at Eastern University by the Faculty of Health-Care Sciences. The event was unusual not least because the medical and nursing faculty of the university had decided that peacebuilding was relevant to its academic and professional responsibilities.

Peacebuilding has too often been treated as something undertaken after conflict, when the fighting has stopped and the immediate task is to rebuild relationships between communities. But peace cannot be sustained by governments and peace organisations alone. If it is to become long lasting, the values and practices of peace have to become part of the institutions through which a society educates its younger generations. Universities and other educational institutions are therefore important to peacebuilding. They are among the places where the foundations of a culture of peace can either be built or neglected.

The experience of the Faculty of Health-Care Sciences at Eastern University provides a practical example of what this can mean. Led by its Dean, Prof Thillainathan Sathaananthan, the faculty organised an event which went beyond the ordinary academic scope of a medical faculty. University academics are experts in writing project proposals and applying for research grants. On this occasion, the members of the Faculty of Health-Care Sciences used those skills to apply for a UNESCO grant that they won to conduct an International Peace Day event. The significance lies less in the Rs 200,000 grant than in the decision to use the university’s institutional capacity and resources to invest in peacebuilding. The event at Eastern University needs to be understood as more than a successful university programme. It represents a possible paradigm shift in peace thinking.

Institutional Commitment

The Peace Day event obtained the support of the university administration, including Vice Chancellor Prof P Peratheepan, and reached out to secondary schools in the vicinity to mobilise their attendance. The event itself was meticulously organised. There were cultural items including traditional and modern dance and song in the three languages, performed by combinations of solo, duet and multiple singers, dancers and actors drawn in part from nearby secondary schools. There was a panel discussion by senior academics on the general theme of peacebuilding and how to prepare for it. A discussion among the students followed, where each student spoke on behalf of a religion that was not theirs. This is significant because peacebuilding cannot remain an idea discussed by specialists at conferences. It has to become part of the way institutions educate and prepare people for life in a plural society.

The Faculty of Health-Care Sciences at Eastern University has provided a model through its Peace Medicine course modules that were introduced to the curricular as a compulsory core course over 10 years ago. Two senior academics, Dr Kuveriel Eliyas Karunakaran and Dr Thillainathan Sathaananthan, have written a book on “Peace Medicine- A Health Care Concern” that was published five years ago. Its Peace Medicine Module integrates principles of medical ethics, compassion, equity, social justice and community engagement into health education and practice. In his introduction, former Vice Chancellor of Eastern University, Prof T Jayasingam noted “This book is an introduction to a theme which had already been operating in the Faculty of Health Care Sciences as a course.”

Doctors, nurses and health workers know better than anyone the harm that war and violence does. They are the people who treat the wounds and trauma that violence leaves behind. In a hospital, a patient is not asked what their religion or ethnicity is before they are treated. Health care is one of the places where peace is practised every day. The Faculty has therefore found a way of connecting its professional responsibilities with the wider social responsibility of peacebuilding. The question is whether this experience can be replicated throughout the country, at universities and at other educational institutions, so that peacebuilding becomes part of the consciousness of education itself. If that happens on a sufficient scale, it can begin to generate a culture of peace that becomes increasingly difficult to reverse.

Local Action

The Eastern University event corresponded closely to the United Nations theme for this year’s International Day of Peace, “Invest in Peace – For Everyone, Everywhere, Every Day”, which honours the “everyday architects of peace”, people driving local action, laying the groundwork for stability and building lasting peace from the ground up. The emphasis on investment is important. An investment means that something is put in: time, courage and resources. There is no more violent conflict in Sri Lanka today. But the absence of war does not automatically produce a culture of peace. The factors that fed the country’s conflict have not disappeared from the world. Racism, corruption and the violation of laws and human rights are the raw materials of conflict. So too are unresolved grievances, discrimination and the failure to recognise the suffering of others.

A country that does not deal with its past does not escape it. The past can return in the next generation. This is why the experience of Eastern University needs to be replicated countrywide, both at universities and at other educational institutions. The objective should not be to turn every academic discipline into peace studies. Rather, peacebuilding needs to become part of the consciousness of education itself. Eastern University shows that a medical faculty can develop Peace Medicine. A law faculty can examine the relationship between justice, rights and peace. Faculties of education can prepare teachers to work in diverse communities, while the humanities and social sciences can examine the different narratives through which communities understand their histories. Every institution can find its own way of making peacebuilding relevant to what it teaches.

Sri Lanka has had many declarations, pledges and programmes in the past. What matters is whether these produce changes in behaviour and institutional practice. Peacebuilding requires confronting difficult issues rather than avoiding them. It requires respect for different identities, but also engagement across those identities. It requires dealing with grievances in the present while also addressing unresolved issues from the past. It requires truth, accountability, reparations and guarantees of non-recurrence. It requires people to learn that the rights of another community do not diminish their own rights. The International Peace Day event at Eastern University was evidence of a change in the way at least some academics in a part of the country deeply affected by war are thinking about their responsibilities. Peace needs to be invested in and the most important investment will be in the minds of those who will inherit the future.

Features

Quality assured education commodities

Published

24 hours ago

2026/09/29

Sahan Weerasooriya

by Ahilan Kadirgamar

I have always noticed the little paper tags that are inside the packaging of some products that say quality assured or quality control. I often wonder who might have checked the product and stamped that tag, but I also forget the tag soon enough. Decades later, when I entered academia, I was taken aback by the emphasis placed on quality assurance in our universities. It is not something that could be forgotten and done away with; the entire university system is obsessed with quality assurance.

Beginning with the staff induction programme, quality assurance is drilled into the newly recruited lecturers. It is the norm, not seen as doing any harm and only trying to improve quality. It is accepted as given, and not questioned. Quality Assurance Cells and Committees are omnipresent and hover above the Departments and, at times, even the Faculty Boards. Quality Assurance reviews are feared by the Deans and Vice Chancellors. University life itself seems secondary to the rule of quality assurance. What do we make of this system of quality assurance and what are its implications for our university system?

Corporate speak

Universities globally have been going through major changes with neoliberal education policies. In many countries, universities increasingly became corporatised to be run like businesses in the 1980s. As state support for universities declined, cost cutting became the norm. They started hiring adjunct or part-time staff. Many public non-fee levying universities around the world began to charge fees. Decade by decade, tuition fees became more and more exorbitant, forcing students to take student loans. The total student debt in the United States now stands at close to US$ 2 trillion; which is about 20 times the GDP of Sri Lanka. As the higher education landscape transformed in the West, university administrations began to recruit Presidents, Vice Chancellors and administrative officials with corporate backgrounds and experience.

Such corporatisation of universities in the West has since been imported into countries like Sri Lanka, introducing a new corporate vocabulary, including quality assurance, graduate competencies, programme outcomes, intended learning outcomes, etc. University teaching has become secondary to documenting so-called outcomes. The teacher-student relationship, the environment of the lecture hall and even administering the university have been over-determined by the processes of ensuring quality. How did such major changes come about in such a short time? Indeed, academics of just two generation ago, would never have heard of these terms and processes in the Sri Lankan university system.

World Bank Trojan horse

Since the early 2000s there have been a number of World Bank projects that have drastically changed the character of Sri Lankan universities. Quality assurance as a central agenda within universities, and many other changes to the working of our universities, came through these World Bank initiatives. The Improving Relevance and Quality of Undergraduate Education (IRQUE) project and Higher Education for the 21st Century (HETC) project were two such earlier projects that set up the Quality Assurance and Accreditation Unit (QAAU) under the University Grants Commission (UGC) and established systematic quality assurance reviews for state universities. The public often thinks these are grants from the World Bank to modernise our universities. However, they are not grants but loans.

The most recent such project, Accelerating Higher Education Expansion and Development (AHEAD) is a US$ 100 million loan from the World Bank implemented from 2018 to 2023, which consolidated the quality assurance structures from the earlier projects. Furthermore, these projects are implemented with tremendous arrogance, prioritising their implementation over all other concerns in the universities, when the project over six years for example accounts for just one fourth of our budget allocation for universities this year.

The AHEAD project drastically changed course curricula, sought to increase student enrolment in science, technology, engineering, mathematics (STEM) disciplines, commercialise the university research agenda and create university-business linkages. All of this was pushed to supposedly help us face development challenges. We have heard the ideological attack on our universities and even students claiming they are “unemployable graduates”. These changes to our higher education system were supposedly going to create jobs and increase employment.

The irony of the AHEAD project is that just as it was ending in 2023, apparently after having reached its targets, the Sri Lankan economy was collapsing. The World Bank often gets the direction of causality wrong. It is the economy that creates jobs for graduates, and not the training or kind of graduates that create jobs. It is decades of World Bank policies, and those of its ideological twin the IMF, that have led to such high youth unemployment, not only in Sri Lanka but also in many other countries in the global South.

Sri Lanka entered an IMF agreement in March 2023 and started a new Country Partnership Framework with the World Bank in June 2023. These programmes have little to say about, and actively discourage, government initiatives that aim to create an industrial policy or an employment creation policy. Instead, they push for austerity measures, which not only restrict the allocation for education among other sectors, but also end up contracting the economy to the detriment of increasing employment. Their goal is the commercialisation of higher education, to make universities into businesses and run them like factories.

In this context, the ideology of quality assurance is powerful. The International Organisation for Standardisation (ISO), whose different standards are necessary for marketing, is the institution that came up with the concept of “quality assurance”. It promoted quality assurance as a process of identifying defected products. Therefore, when the World Bank promotes this conceptual framing, our students are, in fact, seen as products on the assembly line, with quality assurance processes aiming to prevent the release of defected products from the university system. For the US$ 100 million we borrowed for the AHEAD project and the many more million dollars in similar World Bank projects, there is no evidence of increased employment of graduates.

Commodity fetishism

Over a century and a half ago, Karl Marx critiqued the economic analysis prevalent at that time that associated some inherent or monetary value for commodities without considering the social relations that underlie the production of those commodities. Marx called this commodity fetishism. Furthermore, he theorised that such commodity fetishism was also a reason for the alienation of human beings from the world. If our labour and what we produce is seen devoid of the social relations that underlie them, we lose our connection with the people and the world. In this process we become alienated from what we produce and the world.

We are now in a world where our students themselves are fetishised as commodities for the market. Universities are no longer communities concerned about knowledge and human growth, but mere factories producing commodities, which have to be produced without defects to be marketed. In this way, quality assurance has become the cause for the alienation of students, academics and our universities themselves, from the larger relationship with our economy and society.

Our university system does need reform. It is grossly underfunded and not providing the financial support and facilities for our students. Universities have become hierarchical spaces without the academic freedom and democratic ethos necessary for producing knowledge. Academics and students need to engage more with their communities to make their learning and research meaningful, not to mention their contribution to and integration with society. However, when it comes to even questions of governance and regulation of the universities, such concerns are merely reduced to improving quality. In our contemporary times, this singular focus on quality assurance, as opposed to addressing the larger structural issues, is crippling our universities. There may be no way out, but to put back quality assurance where it started, those little tags on goods, to perhaps be noticed but quickly forgotten.

Ahilan Kadirgamar is a political economist and Senior Lecturer, University of Jaffna.

(Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies)

Features

Thailand’s biggest new global star …

Published

24 hours ago

2026/09/29

Sahan Weerasooriya

The entertainment scene, globally, is agog with excitement, and, why not!

Yes, a new global star has emerged … from Thailand, and she hit the headlines by winning America’s Got Talent.

Rattikarn Amloy, known to millions by her stage name Nene Royal, was crowned the winner of America’s Got Talent (AGT) Season 21 at the live finale at Pasadena Civic Auditorium, California, taking home the USD 1 million grand prize.

The 16-year-old rocker, from the holiday island of Phuket (I’ve been to Phuket, courtesy Tourism Authority of Thailand), has struck a power chord around the world, and is the first Thai national ever to win the hit NBC show.

She beat nine other finalists, including runner-up magician Geno Ploeger, after a blistering final performance.

Nene’s story is pure rock and roll fairy-tale. She says she picked up a guitar at age seven, fell in love at the first chord, and taught herself mostly by watching videos online. That dedication earned her a music scholarship to Kajonkiet International School Phuket.

Her audition at America’s Got Talent — a swaggering, shredding rendition of The Cranberries’ classic ‘Zombie’ — exploded online, amassing over 200 million views across AGT’s platforms, more than any act this season.

She kept wowing: ‘Hysteria’ by Muse, then ‘Black Hole Sun’ by Soundgarden which earned her Spice Girl Mel B’s Golden Buzzer, sending her straight to the live shows.

For the final, she unleashed ‘Seven Nation Army’ by The White Stripes. Judge Howie Mandel shouted: “You should win. Give her the million, America.” Mel B praised her “mysterious, mystical stage presence”.

And for the grand finale, she lived every teen rocker’s dream — performing on stage, alongside US rock giants Linkin Park.

When host Terry Crews announced her as winner, the teenager collapsed to the stage floor in tears. “I’m very happy and you know I’m emotional right now,” she said.

And Thailand erupted. Her school held watch parties, posting: “You did it, congratulations, champion. We are so proud of you.”

Even Prime Minister Anutin Charnvirakul sent a personal congratulation. He had earlier hosted Nene at Government House in July, where she played guitar while he sang a Thai rock song. His office said her talent “brought pride to Thai people.”

Corporate Thailand also rallied behind her — Charoen Pokphand Foods, owned by billionaire Dhanin Chearavanont, even rented a giant billboard in Times Square, New York, to cheer her on.

With her blistering guitar solos, rock-ballad shrieks and fearless spirit, little Nene Royal has just become Thailand’s biggest new global star.

What’s more, this amazing teenager will be bringing her powerful vocals, guitar skills and signature rock-metal style to the stage, as opening act, before one of the world’s biggest rock bands, America’s Avenged Sevenfold, in Singapore, on 13 October.

Unfortunately, we are still to see a local artiste, grab the spotlight, on a global scale … like Thailand’s Nene.

Yes, they do shine, but mostly on social media, and that, too, with the aid of AI (Artificial Intellegence).