“Discussing about Miriam Makeba in the nation, it’s akin to referring about a sovereign,” explains Alesandra Seutin. Known as Mama Africa, the iconic artist additionally associated in Greenwich Village with renowned musicians like Miles Davis and Duke Ellington. Starting as a teenager sent to work to support her family in Johannesburg, she eventually became a diplomat for the nation, then Guinea’s representative to the United Nations. An vocal anti-apartheid activist, she was the wife to a activist. Her remarkable story and impact inspire Seutin’s latest work, Mimi’s Shebeen, scheduled for its British debut.
Mimi’s Shebeen merges movement, live music, and oral storytelling in a theatrical piece that is not a straightforward biodrama but utilizes her past, especially her story of exile: after relocating to New York in the year, she was prohibited from her homeland for three decades due to her anti-apartheid stance. Subsequently, she was excluded from the US after wedding activist her spouse. The show resembles a ceremonial tribute, a reimagined memorial – some praise, part celebration, some challenge – with a fabulous South African singer the performer leading reviving her music to dynamic existence.
Power and poise … Mimi’s Shebeen.
In South Africa, a shebeen 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 detained for illegally brewing alcohol when Miriam was 18 days old. Unable to pay the penalty, Christina 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 learned when studying Makeba’s life. “So many stories!” exclaims she, when we meet in Brussels after a show. Seutin’s parent is Belgian and she mainly grew up there before moving to learn and labor in the United Kingdom, 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 dance to them in the living room.
Songs of freedom … Miriam Makeba performs at the venue in the year.
A ten years back, Seutin’s mother had cancer and was in hospital in the city. “I paused my career for a quarter to take care of her and she was always requesting the singer. It delighted her when we were performing as one,” Seutin remembers. “I had so much time to pass at the facility so I started researching.” In addition to learning of her victorious homecoming to the nation in the year, after the freedom of the leader (whom she had encountered when he was a young lawyer in the 1950s), Seutin discovered that Makeba had been a someone who overcame illness in her teens, that her child the girl passed away in labor in the year, and that because of her exile she could not attend her parent’s memorial. “You see people and you focus on their achievements and you forget that they are facing challenges like everyone,” states the choreographer.
These reflections went into the creation of the show (first staged in the city in the year). Thankfully, her parent’s treatment was successful, but the concept for the piece was to honor “death, life and mourning”. In this context, Seutin pulls out elements of Makeba’s biography like flashbacks, and nods more broadly to the idea of displacement and dispossession today. While it’s not explicit in the performance, Seutin had in mind a additional character, a contemporary version who is a traveler. “And we gather as these alter egos of personas connected to Miriam Makeba to welcome this newcomer.”
Melodies of banishment … musicians in the show.
In the performance, rather than being intoxicated by the venue’s home-brew, the skilled performers appear possessed by beat, in synthesis with the players on stage. Seutin’s choreography includes multiple styles of movement she has absorbed over the time, including from African nations, plus the international cast’ own vocabularies, including urban dances like the form.
Honoring strength … Alesandra Seutin.
She was taken aback to find that some of the younger, non-South Africans in the cast didn’t already know about the artist. (She passed away in the year after having a cardiac event on stage in Italy.) Why should younger generations discover the legend? “In my view she would motivate young people to stand for what they are, expressing honesty,” says the choreographer. “However she did it very gracefully. She expressed something poignant and then sing a beautiful song.” She wanted to take the same approach in this work. “We see dancing and listen to melodies, an aspect of enjoyment, but intertwined with powerful ideas and instances that resonate. This is what I admire about her. Since if you are being overly loud, people won’t listen. They back away. Yet she did it in a manner that you would receive it, and understand it, but still be graced by her talent.”
Mimi’s Shebeen is at London, the dates
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