International Dance Day on April 29 is a global celebration of how dance positively impacts lives and brings people together.
Leeann Dass has effectively used the immense power of dance to connect young people in the Caribbean to their Indian cultural roots.
The Trinidad and Tobago-based dancer, choreographer and teacher beautifully blends subcontinental influences with local artistry in her classes and productions. Her 4.1.1 Dance Theatre group not only offers a space to learn but also regularly delivers eye-catching performances, including shows with big-name music stars.
Collectively, she and her students represent an empowered generation, proud of their South Asian heritage. They are also helping to shape creativity in the region.
Eastern Eye caught up with the cool creative making a huge difference to discuss her journey, Indo-Caribbean dance, the secrets of a great performance, and advice for aspiring talents. She also spoke about the immense mental and physical health benefits of dance.
Leeann Dass with her studentsInstagram/ leeann_411
What first connected you to dance?
Watching Bollywood movies at a young age first sparked my love for dance. My mum always dreamed of learning to dance herself, so she made sure to send me for lessons, allowing me to live that dream for both of us.
How do you view your dance journey so far?
My journey has exceeded all my expectations. With passion and determination, I’ve learned that there are no limits to how far you can go.
What is your most memorable moment?
I have many unforgettable moments, but the most special ones are when I see my students performing with love and dedication. Another highlight is our annual dance concert, where all my students come together to showcase their talent in a production I put my heart into.
Which other highlights are you most proud of from your career?
Expanding my dance school to over 300 students and being able to share my knowledge and love for dance has been one of my biggest achievements so far.
How would you describe your style of dance?
My style blends traditional east Indian Bollywood dance with the unique local influences of Trinidad and the Caribbean, incorporating elements of chutney soca to create a vibrant fusion.
Tell us about the Indo-Caribbean dance style.
Indo-Caribbean dance is a beautiful blend of various styles, including classical, folk, Bollywood, and the energetic, Caribbean-inspired chutney soca dance.
Tell us about your dance school.
4.1.1 Dance Theatre has been nurturing dancers for over nine years, with multiple locations across Trinidad and Tobago. With over 300 students aged two and up, our mission is to preserve and celebrate our culture by passing on the art of dance. We’ve performed on many stages both locally and regionally, and have backed up many artists in the chutney soca industry. Our annual dance concert is always a sold-out event, where we create amazing performances for audiences to enjoy. 4.1.1 Dance Theatre has come a long way, is now well established, and our aim is to begin performing internationally, sharing our talent with the world.
As a respected teacher, what advice would you give young dancers?
If you have a passion, chase it relentlessly. Never give up. Determination is the key to success. Keep dancing your way to your dreams.
What, according to you, makes for a great dance performance?
A great dance performance is a perfect balance of choreography, grace, emotions, expression, energy, costuming, coordination, and above all, love.
Do you ever get nervous before going on stage?
Even with years of experience, there are moments when nerves creep in. But I was once told that when you truly love something, that excitement will always be there – it just means you care deeply. How do you feel when you are on stage? The moment I step on stage, I shift into a different mode. The energy takes over, and I lose myself in the performance, giving my absolute best.
What inspires you as a choreographer?
I believe dance is a form of storytelling. Every piece I choreograph tells a story, blending different elements of movement and emotion to create something meaningful.
Tell us about the health benefits of dance.
I believe dance is a powerful form of self-expression that empowers people both mentally and physically. Through dance, individuals build confidence as they learn to move freely, express their emotions, and connect with others without the need for words. Performing – or simply dancing for oneself – can break down self-doubt, allowing people to embrace their bodies and unique abilities.
Tell us about some of the physical health benefits of dance.
Beyond boosting confidence, dance also offers significant health benefits. It improves physical fitness, strengthens muscles, enhances coordination and increases flexibility. Regular dancing can also reduce stress, improve mood and promote mental wellbeing. Whether it is a solo performance, a social dance class, or just dancing in your living room, it allows people to release energy, feel strong and gain a sense of accomplishment – all of which contribute to feeling empowered in their everyday lives. As my students would say, “When we start dancing, we forget the world around us.” This is what dancing is – enjoying that moment as if it is a dream.
Who is your personal dance hero?
Madhuri Dixit has always been my dance inspiration. From a young age, I was captivated by her grace, expressions and flawless movements while dancing.
Why do you love dance so much?
Dance is an essential part of who I am. It gives me freedom, joy and purpose in life. I cannot imagine my life without it – dance is life for me.
The actor’s evolving style from youth to maturity getty images
Aamir Khan embracing vintage looks with classic charmgetty images
Bold and dramatic changes defining Aamir Khan’s careergetty images
From rugged to refined Aamir Khan’s versatile appearancesgetty images
Memorable film moments showcasing Aamir Khan’s unique stylegetty images
Aamir Khan’s blend of classic and contemporary fashiongetty images
Aamir Khan’s dedication to authentic character portrayals getty images
Cinematic milestones reflected in Aamir Khan’s on-screen imagegetty images
A seated Jain enlightened teacherAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Ganesha from JavaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
A Chinese silk painting depicting the BuddhaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
ArdhanarishvaraAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Head of a grimacing yakshaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
NagaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
The Bimaran casketAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Hunia Chawla
A still from rehearsal
Them performing liveNajmuddin Saifuddin Qawwal Group
The cast of Marriage Material in key moments from the play, including Avita Jay, Kiran Landa, Omar Malik, Irfan Shamji and Anoushka Deshmukh
Sathnam Sanghera’s 'Marriage Material' adapted into bold new play on conformity
The play Marriage Material at the Lyric Hammersmith Theatre is Gurpreet Kaur Bhatti’s adaptation of Sathnam Sanghera’s novel of the same name, which first came out in 2013.
She is lucky to have Iqbal Khan direct Marriage Material. The play, a co-production with the Birmingham Rep, is set in the late 1960s. Mr and Mrs Bains (played by Jaz Singh Deol and Avita Jay) run a corner shop in Wolverhampton. Their younger daughter, Surinder (Anoushka Deshmukh), is 16, her sister Kamaljit (Kiran Landa) is just a bit older.
They have a neighbour, Patwant Dhanda (Irfan Shamji), who, as we shall soon see, is not a very pleasant man. In fact, he comes across just as racist as Enoch Powell, who represented Wolverhampton South West for the Tories from 1950 to 1974.
It will be recalled this was a time when Sikhs working on the buses were told they couldn’t wear a turban. That was a hard-fought battle that had to be won.
The Bains, meanwhile, simply want to get their girls married off.
Nothing new here, I thought.
What makes the tale different is that the plot twists and turns down the generations. Mr Dhanda, who has the makings of a paedophile, makes a pitch for one of the girls when Mr Bains dies early in the play. “A life with no man in the house is no life,” he informs the newly widowed Mrs Bains.
Mr Dhanda has a wife but she has returned to India so he considers himself to be a free man.
Surinder’s English teacher from school, Miss Flanagan (Celeste Dodwell), who is also head of the fifth form, tells Mrs Bains about her daughter: “I don’t want to embarrass you, but she is bright. Ridiculously bright.”
She adds: “Mrs Bains, I think it would be a pity if Surinder didn’t stay on at school.” The initial response from Mrs Bains is not encouraging: “Too much education makes people’s brains get mixed up, they don’t sleep at night…”
But she is finally persuaded that Surinder should be allowed to stay on for a while longer before being married off.
Mr Bains was very old school. When Surinder confides she would one day like to be “a somebody”, he is amused that “my daughter wants to be a somebody”.
“Like you,” she tells her father.
Mr Bains consoles his daughter: “We will find a somebody for you to marry.”
At the point of a possible marriage, however, Surinder is sweet-talked by chocolate salesman Jim Wilson (Tommy Belshaw) into running away with him. They share a love of literature, and he calls her “Sue Bains”. But the relationship does not end well.
Once she has left, Surinder is written off as “dead” by her family. The story that is circulated is that she was only 16 when she was killed in a car crash. That’s better than to let on that she ran off with a white man.
By the time she is reconciled with her sister towards the end of the play, a great deal has changed. Kamaljit married Tanvir Banga (Omar Malik), a young man who helped out in the Bains’ corner shop. When the two sisters meet again, Tanvir has also died. But he and Kamaljit had a son, Arjan Banga (Jaz Singh Deol doubles up for this role after the death of Mr Bains). He has come home after his father’s death to help his mother who is still running the family corner shop.
Meanwhile, Mr Dhanda’s business has prospered. He now has a son, Ranjit Dhanda (the role is taken by Omar Malik after Tanvir’s death), and he is nearly as unpleasant as his father.
Arjan has an English fiancée, Claire (Celeste Dodwell). In London, Arjan worked as a creative director. But after deciding to stay in Wolverhampton to help his mother, he decides he cannot marry Claire because she is white. In other words, Asians are not free of racism, either. Happily, at the end, the couple are reconciled.
As for Surinder, she parted company with Jim Wilson after realising he was all talk, depended on her for money and had failed to earn a penny from his literary pretensions. She had prospered, though, as a hotel owner and had been transformed in time into a well-groomed businesswoman. After being tracked down by Arjan, she decides to return to her roots in Wolverhampton and help Kamaljit run the family corner shop. Perhaps 50 years had passed during the passage of the play.
Being subjected to racism turned some Asians into racists themselves. The word goreh (white person) is repeatedly spat out with venom. Maybe it is worth remembering the play’s audience isn’t exclusively Asian – white folk are watching as well. And maybe some of the toilet humour ridiculing white people, which always makes me cringe, could be cut out.
In Sanghera’s novel, there is a quote from Enoch Powell’s speech in November 1968: “The West Indian or Asian does not, by being born in England, become an Englishman. In law he becomes a United Kingdom citizen by birth; in fact, he is a west Indian or an Asian still... he will by the very nature of things have lost one country without gaining another, lost one nationality without acquiring a new one. Time is running out against us and them. With the lapse of a generation or so we shall at last have succeeded – to the benefit of nobody – in reproducing ‘in England’s green and pleasant land’ the haunting tragedy of the US.”
In Marriage Material, where the acting is marvellous (apart from Mr Dhanda’s Indian mannerisms and accent being overdone) we do travel across a couple of generations.
There is a scene when Tanvir rejects Mr Dhanda’s vision of creating a little Punjab in Wolverhampton.
Mr Dhanda wants to take over the Bains’ corner shop and is putting pressure on Tanvir to sign the papers. He says: “In this country, money is the path to freedom.”
“Sign, please,” he instructs Tanvir. “We must make sure our children learn to behave nicely, according to our rules.”
He insists: “We maintain our identity so we can be ourselves.”
Tanvir disagrees: “We can be us here. With the goreh.”
Dhanda warns him: “Then we will be inviting chaos.”
Tanvir’s comment is telling: “You sound like Enoch.”
Kamaljit, who is expecting a baby with her husband Tanvir, says: “I would like my child to grow up knowing the history of the Gurus and to read the Granth Sahib. And to love their culture.”
Tanvir tells his wife: “I would like my child to go to the finest schools, to cheer for England in the World Cup and eat Yorkshire pudding on a Sunday.”
Kamaljit sets out a dream that has perhaps come to pass with many third and fourth generation British Asians: “Maybe our child can do both.” Much, much later, in a throwback to the past, we learn of Surinder’s O-level results: “Biology A, Chemistry A, English Language A, English Literature A, French A, History B, Latin A, Mathematics A, Physics A…”
Kamaljit tells her younger sister: “Never mind about the B.”
And that is quintessentially Asian. Their acting is outstanding.
Marriage Material is at the Lyric Hammersmith Theatre until June 21, and at the Birmingham Rep from June 25-July 5