Mirror Magazine

Combining the passions of photography and rowing, Isuru Perera, is one young man who appreciates the value of every given moment. Smriti Daniel talks to him

I have discovered in my short (and traumatic) career as a feature writer, that there are a few things more fraught with peril than writing a story about a good friend. The interview? (shudder) That’s where it all begins – awkward at best, embarrassing at worst, punctured every now and then by verging-on-hysterical laughter… All I know is I have 30 minutes to find out what makes Isuru Perera tick. What are the things that make Isuru’s life worth the living? Time spent with friends, travelling, creepy comic books, sitting at Galle Face watching the sea, dancing the night away, cheese and chicken rotis from pillawoos… All these things, and more than I could tell you about in a page or two. It’s easier though to look at things he’s most passionate about – rowing and photography. Handily these are also things he’s very good at.

On being bitten by the photo bug:
Isuru’s interest in photography had the simplest of beginnings. When his sister Venuri gave him a point and shoot camera a few years ago, he did just what his new toy demanded – a lot of pointing and shooting – and in the process managed to have the time of his life. It wasn’t long before he realised that he had unearthed something he really, really enjoyed doing. Later when he joined Studio Times, it became more than a hobby.

Working around far more experienced photographers, Isuru slowly got up to speed. He had a natural gift for the art – an eye for angles, lighting and framing. A talent that would only improve with time and experience – both of which he received by the truckload. Having participated in everything from trips into national parks to commercial shoots, Isuru has become rather chummy with the camera. You will know what I mean when you look at his work. It commands an abrupt and absolute involvement – you see, these are images that talk to you – in whispers, in snatches of song, in stories and in poetry.

So far, the highlight of his year, photography-wise, has been the Imagine Tropics Workshop held at Lunuganga, led by award-winning German photographer Karin Apollonia Mueller. Getting accepted into the workshop was nothing to scoff at, with far more experienced photographers not making the cut. Organised by the Goethe Institute, the workshop required the ten participants to put together a ‘photo essay.’ All in black and white, Isuru’s essay told the story of fishermen, and the market in which they sold their wares. The workshop culminated in an exhibition at the Goethe Institute itself.

Looking back, Isuru says he learnt quite a bit at that workshop. Everyday, they would be forced to go out and meet people. Considering that not everyone is keen on being photographed, he had to spend some time setting his subjects at ease. This turned out to be more fun than he thought it would be. He tells me about the time when this man walks up to him, and suspiciously asks him what the heck he’s doing, and why he’s taking photographs. Isuru explains about the workshop, and soon the two are talking comfortably. Minutes later, another aggressive man stomps up and asks the first man whether he knows Isuru. “Yes, he’s my friend,” the latter replies easily. All is well.

Being befriended by someone you just met, the chance to step in and capture with your art the way life really is, to see beauty through your lens, to speak your truth with a picture – for Isuru, moments like this are not only humbling, they make it all worthwhile. “With photography, there’s always something different, there’s always something new – whether you go into the jungle or you walk to the top of the road.” Later he explains that to him, his camera is a window through which he looks out into the world.

Man in a boat:
In 1998, when he first became interested in rowing, Isuru was the junior, who used to just hang around the club – for him, part of the fascination of the sport was its athletes. It always seemed that the rowing crew was in some crucial way different, they would always stick together, and seemed to get on like a house on fire. All that camaraderie was tempting. Even today, it is still one of the things he treasures most about hanging out with the guys.

Isuru was a member of the S. Thomas’ College rowing crew for five years, and then took over as the captain of the team from 2003 to 2004. By the time he left, Isuru had received the Thomian Blue. When he turned 18, he received his National Colours and was recruited for Sri Lanka’s SAF team.

After graduating, he just segued into being an active member of the rowing club. In the final count, he’s been a winner several times, but as far as Isuru is concerned the best part of rowing is not the winning. Big high though that may be, there are bigger highs. “The best part is when you’re actually in it,” he says, “when there are these three guys in the boat with you, and you’re rowing in total unity… when you’ve got the rhythm down perfect… then it doesn’t even matter if you lose.”

On life in general and Humphrey in particular:
Living fully in the present is something Isuru does very well. Does he have any regrets? Choices he wishes undone? “None.” For him, living without regret is a cardinal rule. He refuses to let what is over and done with mess up what is or what may be. “Just think about what you have to do,” he says, “think about what you have right now, and make the most of it.”

While he’s still is the process of figuring out exactly what he wants with his life, he remains very much his own person. Being different, off beat and sometimes just downright weird comes easily to him. “It’s just the way it happens,” he says, adding that there’s always going to be someone around to judge, label, criticise and find fault. At the end of the day, it’s what you choose to be that really counts.

Isuru’s philosophy on living aside, this section should rightfully be an elegy to Humphrey, whom we will all soon be forced to count amongst the dear departed. It is undoubtedly true that certain individuals have been compelled to go for tetanus shots after just one ride in Isuru’s beloved car; it is also true that there are indeed faster, sturdier cars out there, but Humphrey has been intrinsic to Isuru’s way of life for sometime now and will be sorely missed. You see, it is my sad duty to inform you that Isuru is trading up – Humphrey is being abandoned for a four wheel drive.

That being said, going off road might soon be an easier thing for this nearly-professional young-photographer to do. For Isuru, Sri Lanka is still a land of promise – everywhere there are unexplored nooks and crannies, and someone new and interesting around every corner. As far as he’s concerned, leaving the country is not an option he intends to avail himself of. And that’s final.