“When you speak about the legendary singer in the nation, it’s similar to talking about a royal figure,” remarks Alesandra Seutin. Called Mama Africa, Makeba also associated in New York with jazz greats like prominent artists. Starting as a young person sent to work to provide for her relatives in the city, she later became a diplomat for the nation, then the country’s official delegate to the United Nations. An outspoken campaigner against segregation, she was the wife to a Black Panther. This remarkable life and legacy inspire Seutin’s latest work, the performance, scheduled for its UK premiere.
Mimi’s Shebeen combines movement, instrumental performances, and spoken word in a stage work that is not a simple biography but utilizes her past, especially her story of exile: after relocating to the city in 1959, she was barred from her homeland for three decades due to her opposition to segregation. Subsequently, she was excluded from the United States after marrying activist her spouse. The performance resembles a ceremonial tribute, a deconstructed funeral – some praise, some festivity, some challenge – with the fabulous South African singer Tutu Puoane at the centre reviving her music to dynamic existence.
Strength and elegance … the production.
In South Africa, a informal gathering spot is an under-the-radar venue for locally made drinks and lively conversation, usually presided over by a shebeen queen. Makeba’s mother Christina was a proprietress who was arrested for illegally brewing alcohol when Makeba was 18 days old. Unable to pay the fine, Christina was incarcerated for six months, taking her baby with her, which is how Miriam’s remarkable journey started – just one of the things the choreographer discovered when researching Makeba’s life. “Numerous tales!” exclaims Seutin, when they met in Brussels after a performance. Her father is from Belgium and she mainly grew up there before moving 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 child, and move along in the living room.
Melodies of liberation … Miriam Makeba sings at the venue in the year.
A decade ago, her parent had the illness and was in medical care in the city. “I paused my career for three months to look after her and she was constantly asking for the singer. She was so happy when we were singing together,” she recalls. “There was ample time to pass at the hospital so I began investigating.” As well as learning of Makeba’s triumphant return to the nation in 1990, after the release of the leader (whom she had encountered when he was a young lawyer in the 1950s), Seutin found that Makeba had been a breast cancer survivor in her youth, that her child the girl died in childbirth in 1985, and that because of her banishment she could not attend her own mother’s memorial. “You see people and you focus on their achievements and you overlook that they are struggling like everyone,” states Seutin.
These reflections went into the making of the show (first staged in the city in the year). Fortunately, Seutin’s mother’s treatment was successful, but the idea for the work was to honor “death, life and mourning”. Within that, she highlights threads of her life story like memories, and references more generally to the idea of displacement and dispossession today. Although it’s not explicit in the show, Seutin had in mind a second protagonist, a modern-day Miriam who is a traveler. “Together, we assemble as these other selves of personas connected to the icon to welcome this young migrant.”
Melodies of banishment … performers in Mimi’s Shebeen.
In the show, rather than being inebriated by the venue’s home-brew, the skilled dancers appear possessed by beat, in harmony with the players on the platform. Her choreography includes various forms of dance she has learned over the years, including from Rwanda, South Africa and Senegal, plus the global performers’ own vocabularies, including street styles like krump.
A celebration of resilience … the creator.
Seutin was taken aback to find that some of the newer, international in the group were unaware about the artist. (She died in the year after having a cardiac event on stage in Italy.) Why should younger generations discover the legend? “I think she would inspire the youth to advocate what they are, speaking the truth,” remarks Seutin. “But she accomplished this very gracefully. She expressed something poignant and then sing a beautiful song.” She aimed to take the same approach in this work. “We see dancing and hear melodies, an element of entertainment, but mixed with powerful ideas and moments that hit. This is what I admire about Miriam. Because if you are being overly loud, people won’t listen. They back away. Yet she achieved it in a manner that you would accept it, and hear it, but still be graced by her talent.”
Mimi’s Shebeen is showing in the city, 22-24 October
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