Weird Fishes

A solo exhibition at Rajiv Menon Contemporary in Los Angeles, CA.

Feb 25 2026 - April 4 2026

This show is for everyone who has ever been on a ship and had a sudden, wild urge to throw themselves overboard. Not for a death wish but because something inside you knows that that place under the waves is your true home - that returning to the bottom of the ocean would be like returning to the womb of all life.

Though each person might have their own reasons for feeling this way, I believe this is partly because every cell in our bodies holds memories from each ancestor involved in our becoming, including the long line of lives that lived in and were shaped by the sea.

We will never know what it feels like to be encased in blubber, swimming in the dark some 3000 feet beneath the surface in a world alive with sound, but the desire to imagine this is a force in itself. This show is an homage to the wateryness of our bodies, and our kinship with those non humans who returned to the sea after having been made by the land.

- Sahana Ramakrishnan

Paintings and Drawings

The Magic Flower

The Magic Flower is a sculpture that takes the form of a Kavad, a wooden cabinet-like object that unfolds to tell a story. Kavads are traditionally made in Rajasthan by artisans who then use them to travel to different villages and tell stories that are typically within the genre of Hindu epics.

At the gallery, during the opening of the show, this object came hand in hand with a performance by the artist where the story was told while The Magic Flower was slowly unfolded.

Below you can hear the story and watch a digitally adapted version of this.

Details and Installation

(If viewing on smartphone, make sure auto rotate is on and hold phone sideways)

Press Release

Sahana Ramakrishnan’s new paintings and sculpture dance upon the thresholds between worlds. Across canvases and painted panels, the exhibition weaves folklore and field research shaped by recent travels in the Arctic Circle. Ramakrishnan’s palette is anything but frigid, yet her works ruminate on the ocean as an enigmatic underworld. As mythology insists, such realms are not devoid of life, but they are bound to different laws, and largely sealed from the perceptions of the living. In polar Norway, Ramakrishnan listened via hydrophones through glacial ice to the songs of belugas, seals, and narwhals, drawn toward a dimension that was close enough to hear, but impossible to inhabit. 

Mammals and fish recur as emblems of evolutionary divergence and figures of magical crossover. In Selkie (2026), a human soul pulses inside the body of an Arctic seal, suggesting that shapeshifting may be a psychic event, or a form of yearning. While northern folklore casts selkies as seducers who draw humans to watery graves, Ramakrishnan frames the lure as reciprocal: in Seduction of the Sea Queen (2026), a siren’s voluptuous fins signal not only erotic power, but a hunger for something beyond her element. In The Death of Venus (2026), Botticelli’s sea-born goddess of love is returned to the ocean and devoured by fishes, crossing out of iconography and into the food chain. More cosmology than tragedy, the scene affirms that even divinity surrenders to cycles of transformation. Dissolution is also a form of becoming—and beauty is granted no exception. 

The show’s centerpiece, The Magic Flower (2026), takes the form of a kavad, an illustrated wooden storytelling box whose narrative unfolds as successive doors are opened. Inside blooms an original tale of love and crossings: two lovers find a flower so beautiful that it ignites passion, then catastrophe—for inside the blossom waits a heavenly force of change, one that must lead desire through death’s portal. The kavad suggests depth over linear progress, moving deeper into story and image, across thresholds that cannot be crossed in ordinary time. For Ramakrishnan, whose practice is characterized by material and symbolic layering, the form becomes a vehicle for journeying into underworlds, submerging us in the recognition of our own unending transformations.

— Alex Ardyce Jones