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“If you talk about the legendary singer in the nation, it’s akin to referring about a queen,” remarks Alesandra Seutin. Referred to as the Empress of African Song, Makeba additionally associated in New York with jazz greats like prominent artists. Beginning as a young person dispatched to labor to support her family in the city, she later became a diplomat for the nation, then Guinea’s official delegate to the United Nations. An vocal anti-apartheid activist, she was the wife to a Black Panther. This remarkable story and impact inspire the choreographer’s new production, the performance, set for its UK premiere.

The Blend of Movement, Sound, and Narration

The show combines dance, instrumental performances, and spoken word in a theatrical piece that isn’t a simple biography but utilizes her past, especially her story of exile: after moving to New York in the year, she was barred from South Africa for three decades due to her opposition to segregation. Later, she was banned from the US after wedding Black Panther activist Stokely Carmichael. The performance is like a ceremonial tribute, a reimagined memorial – part eulogy, part celebration, part provocation – with a exceptional vocalist the performer leading reviving Makeba’s songs to dynamic existence.

Power and poise … Mimi’s Shebeen.

In South Africa, a shebeen is an under-the-radar gathering place for home-brewed liquor and lively conversation, usually presided over by a shebeen queen. Makeba’s mother Christina was a shebeen queen who was detained for illegally brewing alcohol when Makeba was 18 days old. Unable to pay the penalty, she was incarcerated for half a year, bringing her baby with her, which is how Miriam’s eventful life began – just one of the things Seutin discovered when studying Makeba’s life. “So many stories!” exclaims Seutin, when we meet in Brussels after a show. Her parent is from Belgium and she was raised there before relocating to study and work in the UK, where she founded her dance group Vocab Dance. Her South African mother would perform her music, such as the tunes, when she was a youngster, and move along in the living room.

Songs of freedom … the artist sings at the venue in the year.

A decade ago, Seutin’s mother had cancer and was in hospital in London. “I stopped working for three months to look after her and she was always requesting the singer. It delighted her when we were singing together,” Seutin remembers. “There was ample time to kill at the hospital so I began investigating.” As well as learning of her victorious homecoming to South Africa in 1990, after the freedom of Nelson Mandela (whom she had met when he was a young lawyer in the 1950s), Seutin found that she had been a breast cancer survivor in her youth, that Makeba’s daughter Bongi passed away in labor in the year, and that because of her exile she hadn’t been able to be present at her own mother’s funeral. “Observing individuals and you look at their achievements and you forget that they are facing challenges like everyone,” says the choreographer.

Development and Concepts

These reflections contributed to the making of the show (premiered in Brussels in the year). Thankfully, Seutin’s mother’s treatment was successful, but the concept for the work was to celebrate “loss, existence, and grief”. In this context, she highlights elements of Makeba’s biography like memories, and nods more generally to the idea of displacement and dispossession today. While it’s not explicit in the performance, Seutin had in mind a second protagonist, a contemporary version who is a traveler. “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 venue’s home-brew, the multi-talented dancers appear possessed by beat, in synthesis with the musicians on the platform. Her dance composition includes various forms of dance she has learned over the time, including from Rwanda, South Africa and Senegal, plus the global performers’ own vocabularies, including street styles like krump.

Honoring strength … the creator.

Seutin was surprised to find that some of the newer, international in the group were unaware about the singer. (She died in the year after having a heart attack on the platform in the country.) Why should younger generations discover Mama Africa? “In my view she would motivate the youth to advocate what they are, expressing honesty,” remarks the choreographer. “But she accomplished this very gracefully. She expressed something meaningful and then sing a lovely melody.” She aimed to adopt the same approach in this production. “Audiences observe movement and listen to melodies, an aspect of entertainment, but mixed with strong messages and instances that hit. That’s what I admire about Miriam. Since if you are shouting too much, people may ignore. They back away. Yet she did it in a manner that you would accept it, and hear it, but still be graced by her ability.”

• The performance is at the city, the dates