Honoring Mama Africa: The Struggle of a Fearless Artist Portrayed in a Daring Theatrical Performance
“If you talk about the legendary singer in South Africa, it’s similar to talking about a sovereign,” states Alesandra Seutin. Called Mama Africa, the iconic artist additionally spent time in Greenwich Village with jazz greats like prominent artists. Starting as a young person sent to work to provide for her relatives in Johannesburg, she later served as an envoy for the nation, then the country’s representative to the UN. An vocal anti-apartheid activist, she was married to a Black Panther. This rich story and impact inspire Seutin’s latest work, the performance, scheduled for its British debut.
A Blend of Dance, Music, and Spoken Word
Mimi’s Shebeen merges dance, live music, and oral storytelling in a theatrical piece that isn’t a straightforward biodrama but draws on her past, particularly her story of exile: after relocating to the city in the year, she was barred from her homeland for 30 years due to her opposition to segregation. Later, she was banned from the United States after wedding Black Panther activist Stokely Carmichael. The show is like a ritual of remembrance, a deconstructed funeral – some praise, part celebration, part provocation – with the exceptional vocalist Tutu Puoane leading bringing her music to vibrant life.
Power and poise … Mimi’s Shebeen.
In the country, a informal gathering spot is an under-the-radar gathering place for home-brewed liquor and animated discussions, usually presided over by a host. Makeba’s mother the matriarch was a proprietress who was detained for illegally brewing alcohol when Miriam was a newborn. Unable to pay the penalty, Christina was incarcerated for six months, bringing her infant with her, which is how Miriam’s eventful life began – just one of the things the choreographer learned when studying Makeba’s life. “Numerous tales!” says Seutin, when we meet in the city after a show. Her 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 sing her music, such as the tunes, when Seutin was a child, and move along in the home.
Songs of freedom … Miriam Makeba sings at Wembley Stadium in the year.
A ten years back, her parent had cancer and was in medical care in the city. “I stopped working for a quarter to look after her and she was constantly requesting Miriam Makeba. It delighted her when we were singing together,” Seutin recalls. “There was ample time to pass at the facility so I started researching.” As well as reading about her victorious homecoming to the nation in the year, after the freedom of the leader (whom she had met when he was a legal professional in the era), she 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 banishment she could not be present at her own mother’s funeral. “You see people and you focus on their achievements and you overlook that they are struggling like anyone else,” states Seutin.
Development and Concepts
All these thoughts contributed to the making of the production (first staged in the city in 2023). Thankfully, Seutin’s mother’s therapy was effective, but the idea for the piece was to honor “loss, existence, and grief”. Within that, Seutin pulls out threads of Makeba’s biography like memories, and references more broadly to the theme of displacement and dispossession today. While it’s not overt in the performance, Seutin had in mind a second protagonist, a contemporary version who is a migrant. “And we gather as these other selves of characters linked with the icon to welcome this newcomer.”
Melodies of banishment … performers in Mimi’s Shebeen.
In the performance, rather than being intoxicated by the shebeen’s local drink, the multi-talented dancers appear taken over by rhythm, in synthesis with the players on the platform. Seutin’s dance composition incorporates various forms of dance she has learned over the years, including from Rwanda, South Africa and Senegal, plus the international cast’ 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 were unaware about the artist. (She died in 2008 after having a heart attack on stage in Italy.) Why should younger generations learn about the legend? “In my view she would inspire the youth to stand for what they believe in, speaking the truth,” remarks the choreographer. “But she did it very elegantly. She expressed something poignant and then perform a lovely melody.” She wanted to take the same approach in this work. “We see movement and hear melodies, an aspect of enjoyment, but intertwined with powerful ideas and instances that resonate. That’s what I respect about Miriam. Because if you are being overly loud, people won’t listen. They retreat. But she did it in a way that you would receive it, and hear it, but still be graced by her ability.”
Mimi’s Shebeen is at London, 22-24 October