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“When you speak about Miriam Makeba in South Africa, it’s akin to referring about a sovereign,” states the choreographer. Referred to as the Empress of African Song, Makeba also associated in New York with jazz greats like Miles Davis and Duke Ellington. Beginning as a young person dispatched to labor to support her family in the city, she eventually served as an envoy for Ghana, then the country’s representative to the UN. An vocal campaigner against segregation, she was married to a activist. This remarkable life and legacy motivate the choreographer’s new production, Mimi’s Shebeen, set for its UK premiere.

The Fusion of Movement, Sound, and Narration

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 moving to the city in 1959, Makeba was barred from her homeland for 30 years due to her anti-apartheid stance. Later, she was excluded from the United States after marrying activist Stokely Carmichael. The performance resembles a ceremonial tribute, a reimagined memorial – some praise, part celebration, part provocation – with the exceptional South African singer Tutu Puoane at the centre bringing Makeba’s songs to vibrant life.

Strength and elegance … Mimi’s Shebeen.

In the country, a informal gathering spot is an unofficial venue for locally made drinks and animated discussions, usually presided over by a host. Her parent Christina was a proprietress who was detained for illegally brewing alcohol when Makeba was a newborn. Unable to pay the fine, she was incarcerated for six months, taking her infant with her, which is how Miriam’s remarkable journey started – just one of the details the choreographer learned when studying Makeba’s life. “Numerous tales!” says Seutin, when we meet in the city after a performance. Her parent is Belgian and she was raised there before relocating to study and work in the UK, where she established her company the ensemble. Her South African mother would sing her music, such as Pata Pata and Malaika, when she was a child, and dance to them in the living room.

Songs of freedom … Miriam Makeba sings at the venue in 1988.

A decade ago, Seutin’s mother had the illness and was in medical care in London. “I stopped working for three months to take care of her and she was always requesting the singer. She was so happy when we were performing as one,” she recalls. “I had so much time to pass at the hospital so I began investigating.” As well as reading about her victorious homecoming to the nation in the year, after the release of the leader (whom she had met when he was a legal professional in the era), she discovered that she had been a someone who overcame illness in her teens, that her child Bongi died in childbirth in 1985, and that due to her exile she could not be present at her parent’s funeral. “Observing individuals and you look at their success and you forget that they are facing challenges like everyone,” says Seutin.

Creation and Themes

All these thoughts contributed to the making of the show (premiered in Brussels in 2023). Fortunately, her parent’s treatment was effective, but the concept for the piece was to celebrate “death, life and mourning”. In this context, she pulls out elements of her life story like memories, and nods more generally to the idea of displacement and dispossession nowadays. While it’s not overt in the show, she had in mind a additional character, a modern-day Miriam who is a migrant. “And we gather as these other selves of personas linked with Miriam Makeba to greet this newcomer.”

Melodies of banishment … musicians in the show.

In the performance, rather than being intoxicated by the shebeen’s local drink, the skilled performers appear taken over by rhythm, in harmony with the musicians on the platform. Seutin’s choreography includes multiple styles of dance she has absorbed over the years, including from Rwanda, South Africa and Senegal, plus the international cast’ personal styles, including street styles like the form.

Honoring strength … the creator.

Seutin was taken aback to find that some of the younger, non-South Africans in the cast didn’t already know about the singer. (She died in the year after having a heart attack on the platform in Italy.) Why should new audiences learn about Mama Africa? “In my view she would inspire the youth to advocate what they are, speaking the truth,” says the choreographer. “But she accomplished this very elegantly. She expressed something poignant and then perform a beautiful song.” She wanted to take the similar method in this production. “Audiences observe movement and hear melodies, an aspect of entertainment, but mixed with strong messages and instances that resonate. This is what I admire about her. Since if you are shouting too much, people won’t listen. They back away. But she did it in a way that you would accept it, and hear it, but still be blessed by her ability.”

• The performance is at the city, the dates