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“Discussing about Miriam Makeba in the nation, it’s akin to referring about a queen,” remarks Alesandra Seutin. Known as the Empress of African Song, Makeba additionally spent time in Greenwich Village with renowned musicians like prominent artists. Starting as a young person dispatched to labor to support her family in the city, she eventually served as an envoy for Ghana, then Guinea’s official delegate to the UN. An vocal campaigner against segregation, she was the wife to a Black Panther. Her remarkable life and legacy inspire the choreographer’s latest work, the performance, scheduled for its UK premiere.

The Blend of Movement, Sound, and Narration

Mimi’s Shebeen merges dance, instrumental performances, and oral storytelling in a stage work that is not a simple biography but utilizes Makeba’s history, especially her story of exile: after relocating to the city in 1959, Makeba was barred from South Africa for three decades due to her opposition to segregation. Subsequently, she was banned from the United States after marrying Black Panther activist Stokely Carmichael. The performance resembles a ritual of remembrance, a deconstructed funeral – some praise, part celebration, part provocation – with a exceptional South African singer the performer at the centre reviving her music to vibrant life.

Power and poise … Mimi’s Shebeen.

In South Africa, a shebeen is an unofficial venue for locally made drinks and lively conversation, often presided over by a shebeen queen. Makeba’s mother Christina was a proprietress who was arrested for illegally brewing alcohol when Miriam was 18 days old. Unable to pay the penalty, Christina went to prison for half a year, bringing her infant with her, which is how her eventful life started – just one of the details Seutin learned when studying Makeba’s life. “Numerous tales!” says Seutin, when they met in the city after a performance. Her parent is Belgian and she mainly grew up there before relocating to learn and labor in the United Kingdom, where she founded her company Vocab Dance. Her parent would perform her music, such as the tunes, when she was a youngster, and dance to them in the living room.

Songs of freedom … the artist sings at Wembley Stadium in the year.

A decade ago, Seutin’s mother had the illness and was in hospital in London. “I paused my career for a quarter to look after her and she was always requesting Miriam Makeba. She was so happy when we were singing together,” Seutin remembers. “There was ample time to kill at the facility so I started researching.” As well as reading about Makeba’s triumphant return to South Africa in 1990, after the release of Nelson Mandela (whom she had encountered when he was a young lawyer in the era), she discovered that Makeba had been a breast cancer survivor in her teens, that her child the girl died in labor in the year, and that due to her exile she hadn’t been able to attend her parent’s funeral. “Observing individuals and you look at their success and you overlook that they are facing challenges like anyone else,” says Seutin.

Development and Themes

These reflections went into the making of the show (first staged in Brussels in 2023). Thankfully, her parent’s treatment was successful, but the idea for the work was to honor “loss, existence, and grief”. In this context, Seutin highlights threads of Makeba’s biography like memories, and nods more broadly to the theme of uprooting and loss nowadays. Although it’s not overt in the performance, she had in mind a additional character, a modern-day Miriam who is a migrant. “Together, we assemble as these other selves of characters connected to the icon to greet this newcomer.”

Melodies of banishment … performers in the show.

In the performance, rather than being intoxicated by the shebeen’s local drink, the skilled performers appear possessed by beat, in synthesis with the musicians on stage. Seutin’s choreography includes multiple styles of dance she has absorbed over the time, including from African nations, plus the international cast’ personal styles, including street styles like krump.

A celebration of resilience … the creator.

Seutin was surprised to find that some of the younger, non-South Africans in the cast were unaware about the artist. (She passed away in the year after having a heart attack on the platform in the country.) Why should younger generations discover Mama Africa? “I think she would inspire young people to stand for what they are, speaking the truth,” says the choreographer. “But she accomplished this very elegantly. She’d say something meaningful and then sing a lovely melody.” Seutin wanted to take the similar method in this work. “We see dancing and listen to melodies, an element of entertainment, but intertwined with strong messages and moments that resonate. This is what I admire about her. Since if you are being overly loud, people won’t listen. They retreat. But she did it in a way that you would receive it, and understand it, but still be blessed by her ability.”

• The performance is at the city, the dates