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“Discussing about Miriam Makeba in South Africa, it’s akin to referring about a royal figure,” remarks Alesandra Seutin. Referred to as the Empress of African Song, Makeba also associated in Greenwich Village with jazz greats like Miles Davis and Duke Ellington. Beginning as a young person sent to work to support her family in the city, she later served as an envoy for the nation, then Guinea’s official delegate to the United Nations. An vocal campaigner against segregation, she was the wife to a Black Panther. Her rich life and legacy motivate the choreographer’s new production, the performance, scheduled for its British debut.

A Fusion of Dance, Music, and Spoken Word

The show merges dance, instrumental performances, and spoken word in a theatrical piece that is not a simple biography but draws on Makeba’s history, particularly her experience of banishment: after relocating to New York in 1959, Makeba was barred from her homeland for 30 years due to her anti-apartheid stance. Subsequently, she was banned from the US after wedding activist her spouse. The show resembles a ceremonial tribute, a reimagined memorial – some praise, some festivity, part provocation – with a fabulous vocalist Tutu Puoane leading reviving her music to dynamic existence.

Power and poise … Mimi’s Shebeen.

In the country, a shebeen is an unofficial venue for home-brewed liquor and lively conversation, usually managed by a host. Makeba’s mother Christina was a proprietress who was arrested for illegally brewing alcohol when Makeba was 18 days old. Unable to pay the penalty, she went to prison for half a year, taking her baby with her, which is how Miriam’s remarkable journey began – just one of the things Seutin discovered when researching Makeba’s life. “Numerous tales!” says Seutin, when they met in the city after a show. Seutin’s parent is from Belgium and she was raised there before relocating to learn and labor in the UK, where she established her dance group the ensemble. Her South African mother would sing her music, such as the tunes, when she was a youngster, and move along in the home.

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

A decade ago, Seutin’s mother had the illness and was in medical care in the city. “I paused my career for three months to take care of her and she was constantly requesting Miriam Makeba. She was so happy when we were singing together,” she remembers. “There was ample time to pass at the facility so I began investigating.” As well as reading about her victorious homecoming to the nation in 1990, after the freedom of the leader (whom she had encountered when he was a young lawyer in the 1950s), she discovered that Makeba had been a breast cancer survivor in her youth, that Makeba’s daughter the girl died in childbirth in the year, and that due to her banishment she hadn’t been able to be present at her parent’s funeral. “Observing individuals and you look at their achievements and you forget that they are struggling like anyone else,” says the choreographer.

Creation and Concepts

These reflections went into the creation of the show (premiered in Brussels in the year). Fortunately, Seutin’s mother’s treatment was effective, but the idea for the work was to celebrate “loss, existence, and grief”. In this context, she highlights threads of Makeba’s biography like flashbacks, and references more generally to the idea of displacement and dispossession nowadays. While it’s not explicit in the show, she had in mind a second protagonist, a modern-day Miriam who is a migrant. “And we gather as these alter egos of characters connected to the icon to welcome this newcomer.”

Rhythms of exile … performers in the show.

In the performance, rather than being inebriated by the shebeen’s local drink, the multi-talented dancers appear taken over by beat, in synthesis with the players on stage. Seutin’s choreography incorporates various forms of dance she has learned over the years, including from Rwanda, South Africa and Senegal, plus the global performers’ personal styles, including urban dances like krump.

Honoring strength … Alesandra Seutin.

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 passed away in 2008 after having a heart attack on stage in the country.) Why should new audiences learn about Mama Africa? “I think she would inspire the youth to stand for what they believe in, speaking the truth,” says the choreographer. “But she accomplished this very elegantly. She’d say something meaningful and then sing a lovely melody.” She aimed to take the same approach in this production. “We see dancing and listen to beautiful songs, an element of enjoyment, but intertwined with strong messages and instances that resonate. This is what I admire about Miriam. Since if you are shouting too much, people may ignore. They back away. Yet she achieved it in a way that you would accept it, and understand it, but still be graced by her ability.”

• The performance is showing in the city, the dates