Hybrid Mythology: In Conversation with Rajni Perera
Artist Portrait. Photi by Ted Belton. Copyright and courtesy of the artist.
Keeping mythological stories alive while altering them to reflect evolving ideologies and sense of identity is on artist Rajni Perera’s mind as she gears up for her first solo in the US; Dhum Lōkaya is on view at Rajiv Menon Contemporary in Los Angeles. Using a wide range of materials in her sculptures, paintings, and drawings, the Sri Lanka-born, Toronto-based artist explores themes including migration, feminism, and identity in this exhibition. Apart from this, her collaborative exhibition Efflorescence / The We Wake with artist Marigold Santos is at the Musée d'art contemporain in Lyon, France until January 2026. A travelling exhibition, it was earlier showcased at PHI Foundation in Montreal in 2024.
We had a conversation with Perera about the name and themes of Dhum Lōkaya, creative influences of her hometown, Sri Lanka, the rich materiality of her work, and why having hope is really important to her as an artist.
Rajni Perera, Dark Matter, 2025. Acrylic gouache, polymer clay, polyester thread, glass pearls on polyester, 120 x 84 in. Copyright Rajni Perera 2025. Courtesy of the artist and Rajiv Menon Contemporary. Photo: Darren Rigo.
Payal Khandelwal: Could you elaborate on the meaning behind the title of your exhibition, Dhum Lōkaya, and how it encapsulates the artworks within?
Rajni Perera: Dhum Lōkaya translates to “Smoke World.” I chose this name because the exhibition explores the unseen and the ritual change of matter from one state into another. This transformation, particularly through the act of ritual, references magic that occurs in the natural world itself, which we are a part of, as well as the Sri Lankan traditional medicinal practices of Thovil and Sanni.
Smoke World, therefore, signifies not only the burning or transformation of matter, such as the burning of outdated ideology or vegetation to welcome new crops, but I am also very interested in what exists on the other side of that transformation. I am also thinking of portals that are opened during healing rituals, thereby allowing engagement with the unseen—both within ourselves and on an “other” side, with beings like ghosts and monsters. The exhibition installation includes painted smoke plumes throughout the gallery, as if we are inside the bed of an incense burner, and we are burning too, and ready to transform into a new forest.
We are in a significant state of change right now, especially in North America, moving from old systems to new ones, and we ourselves are constantly changing. For me, this ritualistic burning of matter, ourselves, and identities is incredibly important on so many levels.
PK: What are some of the key themes in this exhibition?
RP: My work engages with the natural world’s forms and their constant state of change. Having been raised Buddhist, I grew up with the idea of changing surroundings, changing selves, and the concept that there’s no permanence in this world; anything that gives that impression is an illusory, a mirage. I engage with this constantly, and it’s evident throughout this exhibition, but in a figurative way.
While I address identity, I also explore mythology and how we synthesize myth. As a diasporic person, the mythology offered to me in childhood evolved with new ideas and ideologies. This leads to a hybrid mythology where you fabricate new from inherited. Even if the original story is magical and beautiful, leaving your home country can open a perspective in ways that modify or add to it, changing parts that no longer work for you or those around you. For instance, a lot of South Asian mythology can be casteist, colorist, or misogynistic. We can keep those mythological stories alive, but how do they look now when we have altered them to suit a changing ideology and sense of identity?
These themes are addressed in the exhibition through a surrealist lens, with an eye to the intention of Thovil and Sanni practices, which are to heal in community, to encourage introspection and imagination, and to exercise the interchange between this world and the unseen.
Rajni Perera, Durian, 2025. Acrylic gouache on polyester, 84 x 60 in. Copyright Rajni Perera 2025. Courtesy of the artist and Rajiv Menon Contemporary. Photo: Darren Rigo.
PK: Over the past few years, your visits to Sri Lanka have become more frequent. How have these deepened your creative influences?
RP: I’ve been able to visit Sri Lanka more frequently as my artistic practice has grown and I can afford to travel, and also be able to take my daughter along. In the past, science fiction and the occult were my sources for understanding the unseen, offering a sense of mysticism and imagination about things in the world felt but not seen. As I started to go back home, I realized how amazing, complex, and wonderfully spooky the traditions I come from are with regard to the unseen or the “sensed.” It awakened in me all the ghost stories and the hauntedness of growing up back home. Sri Lanka is home to over 7,000 demons, spirits, and different beings called upon for healing, entering, or exiting bodies, inflicting and removing disease, curing or causing mental health imbalance, and for the very important issue of conception and birth.
We moved to Canada because my parents believe the West is better, which, while it certainly is different, is not necessarily true. But now, I have to reacquaint myself with our spirituality and traditions, which is my birthright. I can do this by objectively researching these practices, both here and back home, with an almost scientific approach and without any bias, but with all of the awe and wonder. These practices, which open portals and invite beings through them, even leading to possession during exorcism, are incredible to me and deeply felt. I see them as a form of technology, a healing technology in the community. These rituals happen in villages, with everyone gathering around someone in need, and they serve a real purpose, almost in the way we think of handheld technology today. For me, this is a version of technology that I'm very excited to explore.
Rajni Perera, Be Prepared, 2025. Acrylic gouache on polyester, 84 x 60 in. Copyright Rajni Perera 2025. Courtesy of the artist and Rajiv Menon Contemporary. Photo: Darren Rigo.
PK: How do places impart meaning to your artworks, the way they are depicted and perceived? For example, your exhibition Efflorescence/The Way We Wake is being exhibited in France, and Dhum Lōkaya is in the US, where there are so many issues going on right now.
RP: Personally, as an artist, I believe the meaning of our work should always change from place to place. The meaning of art happens when people are standing around it, engaging with it, and having a dialogue about it. It does not happen on its own. Therefore, it should always change; otherwise, there’s no point.
In some ways, Europe is becoming better acquainted with its representation of artists from the diaspora, and I’m glad to be involved with this change. As a continent, it is used to seeing its own culture as central, and this is a welcome “upgrade.” It’s relieving to also get involved with galleries like Rajiv Menon and working to challenge this view by asserting that diasporic artists and artwork are poised to culturally lead. Since we are in the global majority, it only makes sense. I can see why it would challenge white supremacy and the global North, as those are ideologies that rely on obscuring the truth. Most of the world consists of people of color, a truth you realize when you step outside of Europe and the United States.
Rajni Perera, Primitive, 2025. Acrylic gouache, aluminum, glass, and semiprecious stone beads, mother of pearl beads, and charcoal on polyester, 60 x 84 in. Copyright Rajni Perera 2025. Courtesy of the artist and Rajiv Menon Contemporary. Photo: Darren Rigo.
PK: You also have a unique perspective on South Asian textiles and jewellery, viewing them as tools of protection, technology, and a means to express lineage. Could you tell us more about that in the context of Dhum Lōkaya?
RP: In this exhibition, several pieces of designed jewelry are slightly weaponized, with sharp structures. I’ve been thinking about jewelry as weapons for revolution. Are we beautiful when protecting ourselves, our ideas, and our loved ones?
For South Asians, proudly wearing jewelry, which are such beautiful pieces of art, is typically part of our daily lives. In North America and Europe, there seems to be a more demure or accessorizing approach to jewelry and opulence that is culturally imposed upon us.
Thus, our jewelry becomes a technology, an armor technology, used to protect who we are and where we come from, to protect identity and heritage. Asserting our own view of opulence and beauty in places that might try to impose a different standard or make exoticizing comments despite us being a majority is important to me in my practice, beautiful jewelry and adornment being a tradition for most of the world.
PK: Your work often deals with deeply complex and painful issues, yet it always carries a sense of hope and resilience. Why is this important to you as an artist, and what does your most hopeful vision of the future look like right now?
RP: We were stuck in this phase for a while, where artists who come from difficult places—refugees of climate, civil war, colonization—were being placed in exhibitions and institutions in ways that evoke pity. It was being showcased as the work of the oppressed, putting these artists in such a diminutive space.
I have refused this narrative from the beginning. Despite losing everything or facing challenging circumstances, we are still fabulous, glamorous, innovative, productive, and in some cases, we even build wealth and give back to our communities. If institutions only portray sadness and anger on our behalf, I do see that as a problem. It’s a one-way conversation, not a dialogue.
In response to this proliferation of trauma porn, I create works that are decorated and intensely made, not through baseless ornamentation, but instead by reflecting the ornamentation of nature and the way the world decorates itself. The great majority of colonized people are often deeply connected to the land, respect it, and desire to live in harmony with it, in opposition to extracting from the land. You’ll see a lot of figurative work of mine where the human form is mutated or bodily bound together with something that grows from the soil of the planet, recognizing our oneness with the world that created us.
Regarding the most hopeful future, I think there’s no point in my having some version of that. We will come to that. I am a believer in alternate dimensions and multiple realities, and the hopeful future is already existing and happening there. These are places where things are better. They look like a free Palestine, borders coming down, and abolition of the police as it exists today. It will be a slow, hard process. To arrive at a hopeful and beautiful future, we must pass through an ugly time where we will not feel comfortable. We’ll have to toss everything up, really make a change, protest, and demand revolution. It’s going to be so much work, but I believe we will do it, and we can, especially given the urgent deadline imposed by our natural world.
This interview has been edited for clarity and length.
Rajni Perera, Swampgirly, 2025. Foam with steel armature, coated with a layer of polymer clay paint, an additional layer of wax, and beading, Dimensions variable. Copyright Rajni Perera 2025. Courtesy of the artist and Rajiv Menon Contemporary. Photo: Darren Rigo.
Rajni Perera: Dhum Lōkaya is on view at Rajiv Menon Contemporary from October 11 through November 8, 2025.
