Cloudstreet’s chef Rishi Naleendra explores his dark side through art

Rishi Naleendra can’t remember a time he wasn’t painting. “It’s been a lifelong habit,” says the 40-year-old chef-owner behind two-Michelin-starred Cloudstreet, and Sri Lankan restaurants Kotuwa and Station by Kotuwa.

His father, who ran a catering business, painted too — skilfully, though almost exclusively through mimicry — and for years the young Naleendra did the same, reproducing whatever caught his eye.

Growing up in Sri Lanka, he remembers resisting the constraints of art class in school. “They’d tell me to paint things like landscapes, and I could never do it,” says Naleendra. “It really frustrates me to paint something that I can’t identify with.” 

Almost as soon as he discovered artworks by Pablo Picasso, he turned resolutely away from anything “normal”, gravitating to Modernism’s stylised distortions and works with surreal, even macabre themes. 

“I think even as a young kid I was a little odd inside,” he admits.

Naleendra loves Salvador Dali’s artworks for their “magical dreaminess” and is fascinated by Alberto Giacometti’s portraits, with their “constant movement and change” that imbues their subjects with a gaunt, cadaverous quality. 

And then there are the actual cadavers. 

One of Naleendra’s favourite artworks is “The Kiss” by Joel-Peter Witkin, an American photographer known for his unsettling subject matter. Antique in feel, the black-and-white image depicts a male cadaver’s bisected head (skin emaciated, neck merrily rotted) carefully positioned to resemble two people kissing.

Naleendra says he finds it “extremely, extremely beautiful” not for shock value but because it confronts a darkness “that we all have but don’t show”. Intriguingly, he hates being photographed, but says he would “absolutely love” for Witkin to take his portrait.

While Naleendra appreciates classical art (describing Michelangelo’s “Sistine Chapel” frescoes, which he saw during his honeymoon, as “incredible”), he prefers more envelope-pushing works like those at Tasmania’s MONA (Museum of Old and New Art), a privately funded museum known for its provocative themes of sex and death.

Naleendra isn’t too precious about his paintings — he often gives them away, once bartering one for a 500g tin of caviar — but he is slowly building a trove of Sri Lankan art. His tranquil apartment in the Mount Faber area is home to nine pieces so far, including works by Sri Lankan artists like Anoli Perera, Prageeth Manohansa, and Pala Pothupitiye.

His favourite piece, however, is a statuesque brass owl by the late Laki Senanayake. The sculpture, a birthday gift from his wife, Manuela, after a strenuous hunt, has its face hidden by one flamboyantly outstretched wing.

Exploring his dark side

Like his inspirations, Naleendra’s work is “a bit dark, not for everyone”. This is both thematic and literal — his latest collection displays exuberant swathes of black and grey. Faces, like in Picasso’s Cubist portraits, while recognisable, are distorted. 

Human figures appear heavily stylised, elongated or obscured, accompanied by motifs like ribcages and disembodied heads alongside deer, horses and birds. Each work is a maelstrom of movement, with drips, slashes and radiating rings of paint that hint at a deep, unresolved restlessness.

Buddhist lore is a recurring theme across his newest works. An example is the hazy humanoid outlines in “The Feeling of Being Crushed By Your Own Soul for the Sins Committed”, which allude to the Buddhist concept of self. 

Some pieces carry an overt political charge. “Who Is This They Follow? With Such Maimed Rites?” is a densely symbolic work referencing Sri Lanka’s civil war and state corruption, depicting a coiffed elite head gazing at a sword impaling a skull and hat. 

The skull bears a pottu (representing Tamils), the hat with a Communist star (representing Socialist students) — “the two most oppressed groups in Sri Lanka over the last five decades,” according to Naleendra, who sold it at a charity auction this year for $4,500.

On his creative process

For Naleendra, making art is akin to being struck by creative mania: once an idea takes hold, he can paint for up to 17 hours without a break. Tension is a catalyst for him. “If I’m really chilled and relaxed, I can’t paint,” he says. “I need to be under some sort of stress so I can get it out.”

He works on handmade, heavily textured paper purchased from Art Friend using palette knives, brushes, scraps of cloth and even his hands, building layers in acrylic, ink and charcoal. 

In recent years, he’s moved to larger formats: metre-wide sheets or even larger ones that felt intimidating at first but now offer “a lot more freedom for expression”. His early paintings were flatter, more careful, cleaner; now Naleendra says he’s unafraid to layer over, to build, to leave traces of earlier gestures.

From painting to plate

This tolerance for imperfection runs through his cooking. “Sometimes when I’m halfway through a painting, I think it’s the worst thing I’ve ever done. I used to stop there, but now I push through until I get a result,” he says. “It’s the same in the kitchen.”

At Cloudstreet, which he opened in 2019 as a paean to his Sri Lankan heritage and Australian cuisine, the early years meant proving himself with showmanship and elaborate constructions. Now, as the contemporary restaurant turns six, clarity and confidence rule.

“I’m not nervous or anxious to do things. I’m a lot more ambitious than I ever was, but I’m also a lot more confident in what I do,” he says. “Most of our dishes look super simple, but then they have that impact, texture and flavour.”

An abalone dish illustrates the shift: Presented on a supple mousse of its own liver, basil butter and preserved lemon, it looks almost plain, but then proceeds to reveal layer upon complex layer of flavour.

Cloudstreet’s success has freed him to experiment elsewhere. Station by Kotuwa — what Naleendra calls the “CBD version” of his popular Sri Lankan joint in New Bahru — opened in March, drawing crowds with its piquant sambols, shareable bites like crispy tripe and banana blossom cutlets, and a tightly curated arrack menu.

He’s also writing what he calls “not a straight-up cookbook” — 50 recipes framed by “random stories and lived experience” — slated for release next year. 

Would he trade the kitchen for the studio full-time?

“In a heartbeat,” says Naleendra. “Painting allows me to express my true self fully. With food, there’s a huge commercial aspect; you have to think of a wider audience. In the studio, it’s just you and the work.”

Even as he puts the finishing touches on his next painting or dish, his practice of each discipline simply continues to evolve.

“You just sort of know when it’s done. Until then, you keep going.”

Collector’s picks

Rishi Naleendra shares his (current) favourite artworks and shares the meanings behind them.

Intertwined, Mixed Media, 2025

I like this painting because it looks so different from the rest of my work. It was the first one I made in this style, with all the layering of paint, charcoal and ink. It explores the relationships between humans, as well as the concept of Samsara — the cycle of birth, death and rebirth.

Life and death are like an endless circle. This painting reminds me that there are certain occurrences in life you can’t quite explain. But it all seems familiar and makes sense at the same time.

Finding Oneself is the Darkest Secret you can Unveil, Mixed Media, 2025

This artwork really resonates with me. Many people might think that finding themselves is an external journey — whether it’s happiness, sadness or suffering. However, I believe that it’s actually internal.

That’s why I titled this artwork “Finding Oneself”, because it’s about realising that most of these emotions come from within. So rather than relying on external things to create inner peace, you find it within yourself.

The Feeling of Being Crushed by Your Own Soul for the Sins Committed, Mixed Media, 2025

I come from a Buddhist family, but for me, Buddhism represents not so much a religion as a study of the mind. I think about Buddhist concepts a lot, like the idea of “self”.

That’s why you see so many characters and so much chaos in some of my paintings. This one relates to the Buddhist concept of “self” as a shifting, constantly changing illusion.