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“Discussing about Miriam Makeba in the nation, it’s like speaking about a royal figure,” remarks Alesandra Seutin. Known as the Empress of African Song, Makeba also associated in New York with renowned musicians like prominent artists. Starting as a teenager sent to work to support her family in the city, she eventually became a diplomat for the nation, then Guinea’s representative to the United Nations. An outspoken anti-apartheid activist, she was married to a activist. This remarkable life and legacy inspire the choreographer’s new production, Mimi’s Shebeen, set for its British debut.

The Fusion of Dance, Music, and Spoken Word

The show merges dance, live music, and spoken word in a theatrical piece that isn’t a simple biography but utilizes Makeba’s history, especially her experience of banishment: after relocating to the city in the year, Makeba was barred from her homeland for 30 years due to her opposition to segregation. Subsequently, she was excluded from the United States after wedding Black Panther activist Stokely Carmichael. The show resembles a ritual of remembrance, a deconstructed funeral – some praise, some festivity, part provocation – with a exceptional South African singer the performer at the centre reviving Makeba’s songs to vibrant life.

Power and poise … the production.

In the country, a informal gathering spot is an unofficial venue for home-brewed liquor and lively conversation, usually managed by a shebeen queen. Makeba’s mother Christina was a shebeen queen who was detained for producing drinks without permission when Makeba was 18 days old. Incapable of covering the penalty, she was incarcerated for six months, bringing her infant with her, which is how Miriam’s remarkable journey started – just one of the things the choreographer discovered when researching her story. “So many stories!” says she, when they met in Brussels after a show. Her parent is Belgian and she mainly grew up there before relocating to learn and labor in the UK, where she founded her company Vocab Dance. Her South African mother would sing her music, such as Pata Pata and Malaika, when she was a youngster, and dance to them in the living room.

Songs of freedom … the artist performs at Wembley Stadium in 1988.

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 constantly asking for Miriam Makeba. She was so happy when we were singing together,” Seutin remembers. “There was ample time to kill at the hospital so I started researching.” In addition to reading about her victorious homecoming to South Africa in 1990, after the release of Nelson Mandela (whom she had met 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 passed away in labor in 1985, and that because of her exile she hadn’t been able to be present at her parent’s memorial. “Observing individuals and you focus on their success and you forget that they are facing challenges like anyone else,” says the choreographer.

Creation and Themes

All these thoughts went into the making of the production (first staged in the city in the year). Thankfully, Seutin’s mother’s therapy was effective, but the idea for the work was to honor “death, life and mourning”. Within that, Seutin pulls out elements of Makeba’s biography like memories, and nods more generally to the idea of uprooting and loss today. Although it’s not explicit in the performance, she had in mind a second protagonist, a contemporary version who is a migrant. “Together, we assemble as these alter egos of personas linked with Miriam Makeba to welcome this newcomer.”

Melodies of banishment … musicians in the show.

In the show, rather than being intoxicated by the shebeen’s home-brew, the skilled performers appear possessed by rhythm, in harmony with the musicians on stage. Seutin’s choreography includes multiple styles of dance she has learned over the years, including from African nations, plus the global performers’ own vocabularies, including street styles like krump.

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 cardiac event on stage in the country.) Why should younger generations learn about Mama Africa? “I think she would motivate the youth to advocate what they are, expressing honesty,” says the choreographer. “However she accomplished this very elegantly. She’d say something poignant and then sing a beautiful song.” Seutin aimed to adopt the same approach in this production. “Audiences observe movement and hear beautiful songs, an aspect of enjoyment, but intertwined with strong messages and instances that hit. This is what I respect about Miriam. Because if you are being overly loud, people won’t listen. They retreat. But she achieved it in a manner that you would receive it, and understand it, but still be graced by her ability.”

• Mimi’s Shebeen is at the city, the dates