🔗 Share this article

“When you speak about Miriam Makeba in South Africa, it’s similar to talking about a sovereign,” states Alesandra Seutin. Called Mama Africa, the iconic artist also associated in Greenwich Village with jazz greats like Miles Davis and Duke Ellington. Starting as a young person dispatched to labor to support her family in Johannesburg, she eventually became a diplomat for the nation, then the country’s representative to the UN. An vocal anti-apartheid activist, she was married to a activist. Her rich life and legacy inspire the choreographer’s new production, the performance, scheduled for its British debut.

A Fusion of Dance, Music, and Spoken Word

Mimi’s Shebeen merges dance, instrumental performances, and spoken word in a theatrical piece that isn’t a straightforward biodrama but utilizes Makeba’s history, especially her experience of banishment: after relocating to the city in 1959, Makeba was prohibited from her homeland for three decades due to her anti-apartheid stance. Later, she was banned from the United States after marrying activist her spouse. The show is like a ritual of remembrance, a deconstructed funeral – part eulogy, some festivity, some challenge – with the fabulous vocalist the performer leading bringing her music to dynamic existence.

Strength and elegance … Mimi’s Shebeen.

In the country, a informal gathering spot is an unofficial venue for locally made drinks and animated discussions, often presided over by a shebeen queen. Makeba’s mother the matriarch was a shebeen queen who was arrested for illegally brewing alcohol when Makeba was a newborn. Incapable of covering the fine, Christina went to prison for half a year, bringing her baby with her, which is how Miriam’s eventful life started – just one of the details Seutin discovered when researching Makeba’s life. “Numerous tales!” exclaims she, when we meet in the city after a performance. Her father is Belgian and she mainly grew up there before moving to learn and labor in the UK, where she established her dance group Vocab Dance. Her parent would perform Makeba’s songs, such as Pata Pata and Malaika, when Seutin was a youngster, and dance to them in the home.

Melodies of liberation … Miriam Makeba sings at Wembley Stadium in 1988.

A decade ago, her parent had the illness and was in medical care in the city. “I stopped working for a quarter to take care of her and she was constantly asking for Miriam Makeba. It delighted her when we were singing together,” she recalls. “There was ample time to kill at the hospital so I began investigating.” As well as learning of her victorious homecoming to the nation in the year, after the release of the leader (whom she had encountered when he was a legal professional in the era), she discovered that Makeba had been a breast cancer survivor in her youth, that Makeba’s daughter Bongi died in childbirth in 1985, and that because of her banishment she hadn’t been able to be present at her own mother’s funeral. “You see people and you look at their success and you forget that they are struggling like everyone,” states the choreographer.

Creation and Concepts

These reflections contributed to the making of the show (premiered in Brussels in the year). Fortunately, her parent’s treatment was successful, but the concept for the piece was to honor “loss, existence, and grief”. In this context, Seutin pulls out threads of Makeba’s biography like memories, and nods more broadly to the theme of displacement and dispossession nowadays. Although it’s not overt in the performance, Seutin had in mind a second protagonist, a contemporary version who is a traveler. “Together, we assemble as these other selves of personas linked with the icon to welcome this young migrant.”

Melodies of banishment … musicians in Mimi’s Shebeen.

In the show, rather than being inebriated by the venue’s local drink, the multi-talented dancers appear taken over by rhythm, in harmony with the players on the platform. Her choreography incorporates multiple styles of dance she has learned over the time, including from African nations, plus the international cast’ personal styles, including urban dances like krump.

Honoring strength … the creator.

She was taken aback to find that some of the younger, non-South Africans in the group didn’t already know about the artist. (She died in the year after having a cardiac event on stage in the country.) Why should new audiences learn about the legend? “In my view she would inspire young people to stand for what they are, expressing honesty,” says Seutin. “However she did it very elegantly. She’d say something poignant and then sing a lovely melody.” She aimed to adopt the same approach in this production. “We see movement and listen to beautiful songs, an aspect of entertainment, but intertwined with powerful ideas and moments that resonate. That’s what I respect about her. Since if you are shouting too much, people may ignore. They back away. 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 showing in the city, 22-24 October