Flamenco Flamingo
the Top 3 Places to experience Flamenco Music In Seville, Spain
TLDR: Below are my top 3 places to experience Flamenco music in Seville. The numbers are not to be considered a ranking of preference. Rather, they’re listed in order of ‘least structured’ to ‘most structured’ experience. Read the full story to learn why I selected these options and how I came to find them.
Random bars/bodegas you happen across during your exploration of the city
Bar Carbón 6
La Carbonería
Whenever people ask me why I love Seville so much, one of the first things I tell them is that it feels like everyone there can either sing, dance and/or play guitar. There is of course the food element of the city as well, but that warrants it’s own space.
Growing up in Florida I always felt like there was music playing and that music was just naturally embedded into our lifestyle. There was music playing for everything. Music for biking around, tunes for catching rays at the beach, and bangers for boat days. However, quickly upon arriving in Seville, I learned we didn’t have a leg to stand on compared to the talented people of Seville.
In 2023, I spent about 3 months working remotely from London, England and during my time across the pond I would regularly do some side traveling. Seville was one of those trips. On this particular occasion I took an early morning flight out of Gatwick and arrived in Seville around 10:00 or 11:00 AM local time.
If you’re staying in the main areas of the city (El Arenal, Santa Cruz, Alfalfa, Triana), you should be able to bus to them from the airport without trouble. The busses run fairly frequently and only cost about 4 euros one way. I’ve included a screenshot of the map of where I stayed on this particular visit below. Also, here is the link to the Airbnb. At the time of writing this, it’s priced at $88/night…insane.
I stayed in the El Arenal neighborhood which allowed me to walk to the Royal Alcázar, Plaza de España, the Catedral de Sevilla and fantastic tapas spots.
After getting checked in and completing my work day, I set out to explore the city. I recognized from my bus ride to the Airbnb that I was walking distance to the river and so I decided to start heading that way.
As a quick tangent, I’d like to mention that whenever I’m in a new city that sits on a river, I’m partial to exploring the part along the river first. It typically turns out to be where a lot of the action is and also helps to better orient yourself to a new area.
In a feeble attempt to blend in, I departed my apartment dressed in some dark jeans, black boots, and a short sleeved collar shirt. No sooner had the thick, heavy, front door of the apartment thumped shut did I begin to feel the first beads of sweat emerging on the back of my neck like beads of olive oil sliding across a hot cast iron skillet.
As if on some urban, European basketball court, my boots squeaked and slid along the narrow, smooth cobblestone roads as I wove my way through the labyrinth of tapas bodegas, courtyards and squares. The symphony of cheerful voices, hearty laughs, splashing of courtyard fountains, and clinking of glasses against small plates danced with the bouquet of smells from boquerones fritos (fried anchovies), beef stews, red wine, cigarettes and Cruzcampo (the primary beer in Seville), as I continued toward the river. The lifestyle was warm and slow. So was the sunset.
After a few minutes, I’d made it to the riverfront. Much like the walk there, the riverfront was buzzing with activity. Several bridges several blocks apart offered several opportunities to cross over to the neighborhood of Triana, but that would be an adventure for another time.
I popped into the Lonja del Barranco, a food court that sits right along the river offering an assortment of tapas, cold Cruzcampo, and place to rest. You can read more about the market here.
Ice-cold Cruzcampo, Gildas (olives, peppers, anchovies), and Chorizo.
Satisfied with my snack, I exited the market eager to continue exploring. As I walked out of the market, I heard music coming from the bridge leading to Triana. It sounded like the music was getting close so I decided to wait. I was rewarded for my patience. Lo and behold, a miniature marching band was making its way across the bridge and into the El Arenal district. I recognized this as an opportunity. As if it were some janky, impromptu Mardi Gras parade engulfing anyone in its path, I jumped into the row of people following behind the band as we danced our way into the heart of the city.
Keep in mind, excluding my time spent working, this experience was only a couple of hours into my 3-day-long trip to Seville. I realized quickly that these types of encounters would be easy to come by, and that’s part of what makes the city so magical. Anything can happen, and no matter what it is, it’s probably a hell of a lot of fun. I promise, I’m getting to the Flamenco-related content, but first, you need to see how crazy people were going for this band.
It started to feel like the band was done for the night, or perhaps taking a break, so I decided to detach from the impromptu caravan and part ways. With the sun now fully down and a warm glow emitting from the lamps haunting the cozy, tangled roads, I turned my way back towards the center of El Arenal and the Santa Cruz neighborhoods where I could hear ebullient singing emanating from distant nooks of the city.
After walking for about 10 minutes, I came across a bar with a group of friends sitting outside. One was armed with a Flamenco guitar, another the seat of an empty chair which served as a cajon, and the rest were blessed with their voices and palmas (palms for clapping). Everyone sang, had lovely voices and knew every word. A couple of the ladies in the party knew how to Flamenco dance, so while those at the table sang and played, they danced in lamp-lit-glow of the road.
They were kind enough to let me hangout with them and were patient with my sloppy Spanish. And this experience was akin to every other interaction I’d come to have with the locals during my time in Seville. The locals are welcoming. They’re kind, friendly, and willing to help you with your Spanish. Many times, they’re fluent in English, but will ask if you’d prefer to speak Spanish to help you practice more. As you speak, they’ll gently correct you on a pronunciation, conjugation, or remind you of a word you’ve forgotten. They are affable people regardless, but if you put in the effort to speak the language you’ll notice how much it means to them.
This whole encounter struck a chord with me for a number of reasons.
First, broadly speaking, this was just so incredibly different from a night out in The United States where music is blasted so loud that you can hardly hold a conversation, or all eyes are glued to televisions broadcasting whichever sporting event is in season. Let alone everyone on their phone for the entirety of the evening.
Next, was the regard for tradition. Most of the group seemed to be my age or younger, and while they did sing some ‘newer’ songs, most of the songs they sang were folk songs. And the dancing was the traditional Flamenco dancing.
Their merriment with the song and dance was not just an understanding and appreciation of their history and culture, it was a true delight in and a full integration with their core sense of being. When you see it, it honestly feels like you’re on the outside of the coolest social club ever, and you can’t be in it. Not because they wouldn’t love to have you or invite you, but because the only way in is to be born into it; is to be Sevillian.
Finally, there was the warm welcoming they bestowed upon me. Imagine watching your favorite football team play at your local bar with your closest friends and a random person comes up barely able to speak English and tries to hangout with you and your crew. What’s the reaction likely to be? To put it another way, if you’ve ever seen a non-English-speaking tourist ask for directions in New York you’ll understand what I’m getting at. This, conversely, was a group of people happy to embrace anyone who wanted to be a part.
So, not even half a day into my time in Seville I had encountered a small marching band on the streets and some amateur Flamenco playing and dancing. What I would come to learn is that this sort of experience is quite common. Many of bodegas I visited had locals with their own guitars and friends to accompany them on the songs.
This brings me to my first recommendation for ‘best places to see Flamenco music in Seville’; random bodegas. It sounds crazy, but it is that common. Walk around, get lost in, and enjoy the city. When you get thirsty stop for some sangria, wine or Cruzcampo. When you get hungry stop into a bodega for some tapas. Love the city because it will love you back.
I’d eventually depart from that lovely group of people and continue my journey through the city. Now that I’ve shared the first recommendation for seeing Flamenco, I’d like to narrow the scope a bit and provide a more specific recommendation. While Flamenco occurring in random bodegas is common, it’s not necessarily consistent in every location on a given night.
That said,I did discover a bodega/bar that is consistent with its Flamenco. To be clear, this is a bar/bodega with locals who happen to come in and play and sing Flamenco. There is no structured show time, or tickets, or agenda. It is informal and raw, like the encounter I had with the locals on the street.
Like most bars I come to love, Bar Carbón 6 was the last stop at the end of a late night out. I would return to Bar Carbón 6 several times over the span of my trips to Seville, and every time I’d show up there were patrons singing Flamenco. I’ll add that I often attended Bar Carbón 6 pretty late, so I feel confident saying that if it’s open, you’ll probably hear some music.
I have no idea what time this place closes. I’m pretty sure you can smoke inside? But also not totally sure? And it’s one of those places where, in the best way possible, you’ll know exactly where you were last night from the smell of your clothes the next morning. Just trust me on this one. This place is awesome. They don’t have a page but I linked to a Trip Advisor profile for it above and have included a screenshot of where it is on the map below.
On my first night at Bar Carbón 6, different patrons would take turns singing different songs. It almost felt like there was just a twinge of competitive spirit as to who could get the biggest reaction from their performance. After a few songs were exchanged from various persons, some people started trying to hush the crowd. Turns out that the freaking bar tender also wanted to have a go at singing. I really should have known better because, as I’d seen all night, everyone could sing, but for some reason, in this moment, I thought it had to be some sort of a joke. It was not a joke.
To recap, the first two recommend places to experience Flamenco music in Seville are:
Random bodegas you happen across during your exploration of the city
Bar Carbón 6
This brings us to my 3rd recommendation, La Carbonería. Now, to give credit where credit is due, one of my friends happened to be in Seville while I was there. I had told her about my incredible Flamenco encounters in the various bodegas around the city center, and while I had thoroughly enjoyed them, I still wanted to see a performance a bit more ‘polished’ and ‘structured’. She mentioned that La Carbonería was just as good, if not better, as any of the [typically] pricey ticketed shows around town, and that it was free (donations are highly encouraged and trust me you will feel COMPELLED to give them some euros after you go). What’s also great about it is that they typically have 3 shows a night at 20:30, 21:30, 22:30.
Sadly, La Carbonería requests that you don’t take photos or videos while you’re there, so I have no interactive content for you on La Carbonería:
*Some speculate that it’s because they want you to be in the moment, some that it’s distracting to the performers, and others hypothesize that some of the performers may have contracts elsewhere and could get in trouble if caught performing at another location.Since I don’t have photos and videos of La Carbonería, I suppose I’ll try and use my words *groans. A space like La Carbonería seems so strange to be in the heart of the city. It’s not off a main road but it’s also not impossible to find. There’s a short path in between two stone buildings that leads you to an open courtyard with some sparse, humble seating arrangements. As you enter, directly ahead of you and beyond the courtyard is basically a lean-to, almost barn-like space. There is a roof and 3 sides, and it is the open, exposed, side that faces you as you enter. As you approach the space, on the right hand side is a long wooden bar where you can order sangria, wine or beer. Completely opposite on the left-hand side, as you approach, is a small counter where you can order some food. In the center are rows and rows of long tables with wooden benches (think Harry Potter great hall but with a Spanish shack theme). There are about 3 small steps that lead up to a second level of additional seating, similar to a balcony at a movie theater. Basically, it’s an incredibly humble and communal atmosphere that, to me, adds to the essence of the experience.
There are many things I love about Flamenco music. The incredibly technical, melodic, yet percussive guitar runs. The somber start, steady build and crescendo of clapping and stomping. The strong booming vocals of the male singers crooning over the female dancer who’s adorned in a traditional Flamenco dress like some rare, exotic and elegant bird. And how, despite the power and peacocking flaunted by the male performers, it is undoubtedly clear by the end of a Flamenco show that it is the woman who is ultimately in charge. All of these elements I love, but it is the communal nature of it that I think I love most. So here we have it.
The Top 3 Places To Experience Flamenco Music In Seville, Spain:
Random bodegas you happen across during your exploration of the city
Bar Carbón 6
La Carbonería
If you’ve made it this far, you’re probably willing to hear a brief story about the first time I experienced La Carbonería. As mentioned, it was a friend who told me about the spot. She and I had agreed to go on a particular night and by the time we had connected there was only one show left for that night. While we would have liked a bit more buffer time before departing for the show, we felt confident we’d arrive on time (not that I think the people there would care, but we wanted to see the full show).
Now, what we had failed to consider was that while we were not in Seville ON Easter, many European countries celebrate Easter for extended periods of time both before and after, or as a season, rather. So, as we began making our way to the Flamenco show, we rounded a corner and bam! We’d found ourselves stuck in a massive Easter parade processing its way through the city. To be clear, this was a VERY COOL experience and a happy accident. But it was also a hilarious thing to stumble into when in a rush. Take a gander below:
Lastly, there is nothing wrong with paying for a Flamenco show and attending one of the more widely promoted options. Flamenco, in my opinion, is pretty difficult to not enjoy. So, do what works for you. But, I do hope that at least one of these three options is helpful in your quest to experience some of the most fun music in the world.
