Scribbler in Seville

Maria (left) with the two dancers on stage  at Flamenco Esencia in Salteras, near Seville.

The venue is a converted bodega, with high ceilings and plain white walls displaying photos of flamenco legends.

Even though I’ve been living here in Seville, the cradle of flamenco, for more than 10 years, what I’ve learned about the art form could fit on the back of a postage stamp.

I love it – watching it, listening to it, feeling the rhythms and passions of the singers and dancers, guitarists and hand-clappers. But the subtleties of the different compas escape me. I prefer to close my eyes and get swept along in the spine-tingling, raw emotion pouring from the performers, and they spin and stamp and shout. Music has a great power to move us, take us to places deep inside ourselves – nothing makes me cry as easily as music. And flamenco is so… visceral.

While there are plenty of venues in Seville to see flamenco, with performances almost every night, in the area where I live – the Aljarafe, to the west of the city – it’s harder to find dance shows; indeed, until recently there was no dedicated flamenco space. Flamenco Esencia was opened last year in the village of Salteras by two women, neither of whom is Spanish: Maria, a respected flamenco dancer herself (her stage name is Maria la Serrana), is Lebanese, and Fabienne is from Holland.

Cosy corner with fireplace, and candles to create the right atmosphere.

Bar menu; mine’s a manzanilla (sherry). Tapas and one drink are included in the entry price.

They have converted a delapidated 19^th-century bodega (wine store) into an impressive but not intimidating venue, restoring it to its original state, with a high ceiling and fabulous vaulted arch, offering superb acoustics. The walls are painted white and decorated with blown-up black and white photos of legends such as Paco de Lucia and Camaron de la Isla. For chilly winter nights, there’s a fireplace, while on warm evenings you can have tapas in the patio after the main performance, including freshly carved jamon serrano, cheese and tortilla. And, of course, there’s a bar, so you can watch the show with a glass of your preferred tipple in your hand.

Flamenco is a hugely energetic and demanding dance, and this dancer leaped high into the air.

The venue is about 15 minutes’ drive out of Seville, although they offer a free minibus from the city, which is great if you don’t have wheels – or even if you do, but you simply want the freedom to be able to drink. However having to make the schlep out to Salteras has its upsides: the ambience in this flamenco venue is intimate and very special; people have really made an effort to come. Flamenco tablaos can feel forced, staged and generally unsatisfactory; this is authentic. Maria and Fabienne welcome everyone and make them feel at home, and the performers strutting their stuff are all first-class.

The high quality of the artists performing at Flamenco Esencia is down to Maria’s ability to coax her flamenco friends into coming to her club-like venue – they’re here because of her, and because they want to be, not for the paycheck. She’s a well-established name in the Sevilla flamenco scene, having worked for many years with Farruquito, and knows which performers to pair which which. And it shows. As Maria explained, they are keen to host both established names and young, up-and-coming artists – those who have performed at Flamenco Esencia include dancers Felipe Mato and Leonor Leal, and singer Javier Rivera.

The dancer lifts her long dress to show her foot work – see how marked the stage floor is from all that flamenco shoe-stamping.

Most performances feature two dancers, a man and a woman; a guitarist; and a singer. Our dancers were wonderfully entertaining and worked beautifully together as a pair – flamenco is all about drama and passion – flirting, rejecting, reuniting, spurning again – stamping, head-tossing, showing your partner your back, then spinning to confront them once more. Maria herself also took a turn on stage, showing off her footwork and skill. It is mesmerising to watch, and the volume level goes up as the shoes stamp with increasing speed on the wooden stage. The men generally wear plain shirts and straight trousers, while the women sport the fabulous ruffled flamenco skirts or dresses, with coordinating flowers in their hair.

We were very fortunate to see Jeromo Segura, a singer from Huelva at the top of his profession: shortly after our visit to Flamenco Esencia, Jeromo won one of flamenco’s most important singing prizes, the Lampara del Minero; he has also released a CD. I love his voice because he’s not shouty – yes, that’s my expert opinion as a flamenco critic, not. He actually sings without raising the volume in ear-splitting, tear-your-guts-out anguish.

After the main performance, when tapas were being served in the patio, Jeromo and his fellow artists changed into civvies and mingled with the audience. Jeromo, who has worked for many years with the renowned company of Eva Hierbuena, and has toured all over the world. I was a bit tongue-tied (OK, star-struck), but I managed to ask him which his favourite city was (lame question, I know), and he said Tokyo. The Japanese love flamenco, and many come to Seville to study baile (dance).

Jeromo, who comes from Huelva, sings as Luis accompanies him on guitar, and co-owner Maria with palmas (clapping hands).

After the tàpas, there was a more informal jamming session, known as the fin de fiesta, with a circle of chairs featuring Jeromo and the guitarist, Luis Amador (nephew of singer Raimundo Amador, who hails from the next-door village, where I live, Valencina de la Concepcion). The seats were arranged in an inclusive format, so everyone was the same, artists, and audience, with no “stage” – a level playing field.

They played as they wanted, conferring and laughing before each song; there’s nothing like seeing superb artists play in a relaxed atmosphere to their own rhythm – and we felt thrilled to be sitting and listening in that delightfully welcoming and inclusive arrangement. Jeromo had brought along his daughter, whom he kept trying to coax into singing, but she was too shy – in spite of the warm family atmosphere. This sing-song sometimes takes place in the patio – where flamenco would have traditionally been performed, in the outdoor communal areas of gypsy corralones, shared courtyards where many families lived together.

Jeromo sings in the “fin de fiesta” relaxed jam session, with guitarist Luis and co-owner Maria.

Several dancers got up to have a brief go in the middle of the circle, including Fabienne, the co-owner with Maria. It was quite unlike any other flamenco show I’ve ever been to, because it was like being invited in by a group of friends who were practising. It’s a rare opportunity for tourists and locals to get up close to performers, and mingle with them. The artists don’t feel they should stay behind the scenes, as they usually might. And even better, anyone can join in and try their steps in the nurturing atmosphere of the fin de fiesta. It’s about the joy of flamenco, expressing yourself, not how good you are.

The audience was an interesting mix of Dutch, Germans, and locals from the village, from children to 70-year-olds. As we left, a not-so-young man who had been watching the show, and was already “in the party spirit”, beckoned to us and said knowingly, “Ahora empieza la fiesta” (now the party starts). Being responsible parents, we declined politely, and then spent the whole journey back in the car to collect the kids wondering just how much fun we were missing. Flamenco artists, a warm summer night, copious quantities of alcohol and other substances. I’m still kicking myself.

Flamenco Esencia has shows on Fridays at 9pm, with the doors open at 8.30pm – tapas and drink, plus transport from Seville, are included in the 35 euro ticket price. Private shows can also be arranged on other days.

He will also be performing at the Noches en Los Jardines del Alcazar summer music festival (link is for previous year, programme not updated yet), on 30 August.