However, through the next door and – if you close your eyes at least – it’s like stepping into a buzzing medieval tavern. Above the sound of patrons laughing over beers, a band onstage plays a jig, the fiddles squealing furiously. In the centre of the room its pure chaos: 50 or more attendees dancing in pairs to the music, spinning, hopping, clapping and oftentimes colliding. This is DIY Ceilidh, one of Newcastle’s most joyous, enthralling cultural experiences.
For the uninitiated, a ceilidh is a traditional Scottish and Irish social gathering, and a menace in the spelling bee (it’s pronounced KAY-lee). It’s essentially a folk music concert where each song begins with a ‘caller’ teaching basic choreography to the crowd, before stepping back and letting glorious mayhem ensue. It is not for the socially faint of heart – many dances will leave strangers paired up in an intimate ballroom hold – but the result is an overwhelming sense of togetherness in the crowd. A single dance with a new friend is less an icebreaker, more an ice-obliterator, and at DIY Ceilidh’s bustling monthly events, there is no shortage of new friends to be made.
“We’re probably one of the biggest regular ceilidhs in the UK right now,” co-founder Jo Feijó tells me over tea in a city centre café, sounding surprised himself at the huge success his event has seen in the two years since it launched. At one point last year the ceilidh became so popular there was almost no space left for dancing. “We never thought that would be a problem,” band leader Sam Baxter admits, recalling feeling “very stressed” when the organisation briefly employed a ticketing system. Today, the ceilidh is firmly pay-as-you-feel, with no minimum entry fee. “I’d like to work on increasing our inclusivity,” Baxter says, as if – lack of elevator aside – the ceilidh isn’t already one of the most wonderfully inclusive and welcoming social events I know.
The two of them have joined me to discuss an exciting new development for the DIY Ceilidh: a spin-off folk dance night spearheaded by Feijó. The night centres on the balfolk tradition, a form of dance that proliferated across Europe during the 1970s folk revival, whilst England remained stuck in its ways with its energetic reels and jigs (“jumpy stuff”, as Feijó calls it). “Balfolk is a lot quieter, a lot calmer, a lot more intimate,” Feijó, who fell in love with the art form whilst growing up in Portugal, tells me enthusiastically. “The level of intimacy and surrender that is allowed within balfolk is very different [to the ceilidh]. It’s very much: let’s just close our eyes and listen to the music for a bit.”
With a more elegant dance style comes a more elegant venue. Instead of the sticky floors of the Lubber Fiend, the balfolk night will be hosted in the tastefully decorated confines of the Black Swan, a venue tucked away in the basement of Newcastle Arts Centre, opposite NX on Westgate Road. To Feijó, it’s the perfect setting. “It’s really gorgeous - you can’t beat it. They’ve got a little staircase on the side and a balcony, so you can stand there and look down on all the dancing”. It promises to a be a calm, instructive evening of dance – he admits the dances are “a little bit more complex sometimes” – and a valuable alternative to the ceilidh, where a trip to the bar whilst a dance is underway can feel like going into battle.
One of the great joys of the DIY Ceilidh is the sheer quality of the music, which is performed live by as many musicians as can squeeze onto the stage. Along with Feijó’s dance expertise, the balfolk night features some members of the Hearken Quartet, a local band specialising in the rich and varied tradition of European folk music. Baxter largely credits the strength of Newcastle’s folk scene to the University’s Folk and Traditional Music degree, which for decades was the only degree-level folk music course in England. “Nearly everyone in the band has gone through the folk degree or is on the folk degree,” he tells me, which includes co-founder Frankie Insley and Baxter himself. Newcastle’s geography also plays a role. “Northumberland’s one of those places that hasn’t changed a lot. It’s very isolated and rural, and those are the perfect conditions for preserving oral traditions”. Being close to Scotland, where folk music degrees abound, also helps.
The new balfolk night is great news for the local folk scene, but DIY Ceilidh's ambitions don’t end there. The dream is to host a two-day folk festival, as well as a series of ‘DIY Ceilidh presents…’ folk gigs aimed at sharing the success of DIY Ceilidh with the local folk scene. Crucially, everyone is welcome. “The ethos of DIY Ceilidh is that theoretically anyone can come and join the band. Anyone can call a dance,” Baxter says. What’s clear after my meeting with Feijó and Baxter is that DIY Ceilidh is borne out of pure passion for folk music far more than a desire for profit. “It’s a special thing,” Baxter remarks. “It’s delightful and we love it.”
DIY Ceilidh’s Balfolk Night: European Dance for Chill Folk launches on 21 November at the Black Swan at 6pm, pay as you feel on the door. The next ceilidh is on 9 November at the Lubber Fiend. For more info, see @diy.ceilidh on Instagram.
