Born in Kolkata, India, Ash Mukherjee trained in the Tanjore vaani of Bharatanatyam at Kalamandalam Kolkata and later studied classical ballet with Doreen Wells. He graduated with a BA (Hons) in Jazz Theatre Dance from London Studio Centre. Acclaimed by Dance Europe Magazine as one of the UK's finest Indian classical dancers, Ash was chosen to perform a duet with Michael Jackson at London’s O2 Arena for This Is It! Identified as queer, Ash faced bullying due to his gender fluidity, yet in those harsh times music and dance offered him a sanctuary from the harsh realities.
In an interview with Asian Voice, Ash Mukherjee discussed his experiences as a queer individual and how it influenced his work. He shared the challenges he faced as a queer dancer, the representation of queer individuals within the South Asian community, and much more.
As a queer individual, how has your identity influenced your work and artistic expression in dance?
I think the term ‘queer’ sits within considerable intertextuality. In contemporary western context it is reclaimed in most spaces. I would identify as queer in this context because I have also reclaimed that word back for myself which was used derogatorily to describe ‘otherness’.
However, as a person of Indian descent, identifying as queer inherently places me within a Western postcolonial lens. I might instead describe myself as indigenous to the Shakti peeths of Bengal, where feminine energy is a profound spiritual expression of the Goddess.
This manifests in my dance and neurodivergence, challenging status quos simply by being myself. My job as an artist is to keep that channel open and never suppress it.
What were some of the significant obstacles you faced as a queer dancer, and how did you overcome them?
I felt that there was a cognitive dissonance in the traditional dance world. We could portray various characters from lasya filled nayikas and playful Gandharvas, while describing the virility of male Hindu divine archetypes like Shiva and Vishnu.
As dancers, fluidity was essential, but in real life, gender fluidity was frowned upon, clashing with rigid gender roles. I found this claustrophobic and felt pressured to reject parts of myself to fit in. Unwilling to do that, I emigrated to England in 1998. In early 2000s London, as a club kid, I could fully embrace my fluidity, finding a community where I felt included and free to express myself without boundaries. These years were pivotal in shaping the behavior and attitudes I would tolerate in the patriarchal Brahminical classical dance world.
What is your perspective on the representation of queer individuals within the South Asian community, both in the arts and in broader society?
I feel that we are on the cusp of a cultural renaissance in the representation of queer South Asians in the media. Platforms like YouTube, Instagram, and TikTok empower queer desi individuals to control their own narratives. The days of being portrayed as jokes or in performative roles without autonomy are hopefully coming to an end.
The rich history of gender fluidity in ancient Indian texts is being revitalized in contemporary society. Media, literature, and arts are increasingly featuring queer narratives, challenging stereotypes, and fostering acceptance. However, significant stigma and discrimination persist, often driven by post-colonial norms and inadequate LGBTQ+ rights.
Contemporary India’s power structures are less progressive than those of ancient India regarding minority rights, as the legacy of oppression remains deeply entrenched. This must change; we cannot cherry-pick what we want to be progressive about.
What progress has been made globally in terms of LGBTQ+ rights, what challenges remain, and what actions do you believe are most effective in promoting equality and acceptance?
We've made significant strides in LGBTQ+ rights, with many countries legalizing same-sex marriage and enforcing anti-discrimination laws. Increased media and political visibility has helped change minds, but we often live in a social media bubble that reinforces our views.
Beneath the surface, challenges persist. In regions like the Middle East, Africa, and parts of Asia, being LGBTQ+ remains dangerous. Even in progressive areas, transgender and non-binary individuals face obstacles in healthcare and legal recognition, while conservative groups push regressive agendas. To advance, we need strong laws, public education, and greater representation.
Supporting grassroots organisations like local Pride and women’s rights groups, like Margate Pride and Power Of Women Thanet, along with fostering empathy through open dialogue, are essential to achieving true acceptance and equality.
Looking ahead, what are your future plans and goals in dance? Are there any upcoming projects or performances that you’re particularly excited about?
Recovery from postcolonial queer trauma is integral to my practice. Therapy has been a privilege, and I created the Pride Face Project with Sampad Arts in Birmingham for Journey LGBT+ Asylum Seekers to extend that support. Through workshops on laughter, movement therapy, emotional regulation, journaling, and arts and crafts, participants have reported improved moods and mental health, aiding their daily lives as LGBT+ asylum seekers.
In my Shakti workshops, open to all genders, we challenge colonial views that demonise the sacred feminine. By reclaiming our inner goddess and recontextualising shame, we tap into divine feminine archetypes for healing and autonomy.
"Vishnu’s Got My Back" is my one-person show, currently in its next development phase after being commissioned by Sampad Arts. This 'TED Talk musical,' co-written with Jon Edgley Bond, is a queer coming-of-age story about a first-generation Indian immigrant from Kolkata to England. I've especially enjoyed presenting it to queer elders from the Windrush generation, whose stories are often untold.
