Whitby Folk Week 2015 Dates – 20th to 26rd August 2015.
Seven days of dancing in the streets, music and singing in the pubs, concerts and dances until late into the night, and a whole lot more. Seven days of meeting old friends and making new ones.
Whitby Folk Week Opening Parade 2015
Altogether, Whitby Folk Week is a compelling reason for ignoring the ‘Costas’ and heading to the north east of England in late August each year.
This long-standing celebration of the traditional music, dance and song of the British Isles has taken on the trappings of a tradition in its own right. With over 600 events covering workshops, concerts, singarounds, dance, sessions, street entertainment and the extensive ‘fringe’ events that blossom spontaneously. Folk Week is a festival that no lover of real music should miss.
Whitby Folk Week 2015 On Church Street
Whitby itself is filled with examples of our rich and colorful heritage. This picturesque seaport town has a greater concentration of visitor experiences per square mile than in many of the better-known tourist destinations. From the Jet workshop to the Dracula Experience via Captain Cook’s cottage and the ruined Abbey dominating the cliff tops above the town, there is culture and tradition in abundance. Folk week could not have a better setting.
For the ‘inner person’ there are many excellent restaurants, cafes and bars, real-ale pubs, and the best fish and chips in the northern hemisphere. And all this can be digested in the company of some of the finest musicians and singers in the British Isles.
Whitby Folk Week On Whitby Swing Bridge
Read more over on the official Whitby Folk Week Website
View All Our Whitby Photo Galleries Here
Whitby Folk Week Pictures – Click The Images For Full Sized Pictures. All Photographs By Glenn Kilpatrick Photography
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- Whitby Folk Week Opening Parade 2015
Further Reading
I don’t suppose it will be long before SBC try to put a stop to this sort of thing under ‘elf and safety grounds.
Dates are 20-26 August 2012.
And I’m sure SBC would love to see Folk Week move – just like their success in driving Musicport out of the borough….
What makes you say that John? It was MP that tried to blackmail everyone. They had an inflated view of their power and importance. Good luck to them if they think things are better off in a dump like Bridlington.
By the way the folkies are skating on thin ice. Not because of SBC though.
If they pick any more fights with the regatta there will only be one loser!
Personally, I like folk week and welcome it but in a town like this they need to tread carefully.
I’m an ancient Morris dancer
And no longer will I roam.
My boundless joy is now confined
In this old folkies’ home.
The doorsign reads “Dunjingling”
And last time I attempted a “hey”
I did myself a great mischief
So I’ve had to call it a day.
But I dance the zimmer frame polka,
No greater mover excels,
And Ethel and Gladys go ga-ga
When I tinkle my rusty old bells.
And in rare moments of ecstasy,
As I shuffle through some of my sets,
They remove their dentures and clack them aloud
Like rhythmic castanets.
Last Saturday night I was dancing a jig
When me knees both began to buckle.
“It’s more than your belt’s done these ten last long years,”
Said Gladys, with many a chuckle.
Though stung by her words, I had to admit
Her observation was clever
For brain cells come and brain cells go
But fat cells live forever.
Not that me knees were a problem
The way that they are for so many
In the days of my youth you could still obtain
Two ape knees for just one old penny.
My accordion’s beyond my control
It sounds like the croaking of frogs
And to stop me waking the snoozers,
They’ve put rubber soles on me clogs.
They’ve banned both the longsword and rapper
Not through health and safety fears
But because the cleaners were getting brassed off
With picking up fingers and ears.
At least you’re surrounded by friends,
On the days when your recall is rotten,
They help you invent some new memories
To replace all the ones you’ve forgotten.
When you look in the mirror and see
That six pack, now drooped and inert
Praise the Lord that your eyesight’s endured
And be grateful that wrinkles don’t hurt.
Life must go on, though I quite forget why,
Though your days may be happy or sad.
Considering the other alternative,
“Dunjingling” is not quite so bad.
Some people in Whitby still talk about when my uncle rowed in the Regatta just after the war, the crew were drunk and they sunk the boat. Been a Whitby lad I understand what the Regatta used to mean to local people, but for me personaly I think its a load of trash these days. For Regatta 2012 I could use the same programme from 2002, and there would not be much difference.
These days I earn my living from doing bed and breakfast, and when the two events clash the Folk Festival has priority for obvious reasons, I want customers for a week and not two or three days, and most people in the trade feel the same way, its a long winter and we have to earn money in summer when its there to earn.
I am not anti Regatta, but clearly a lot of local people are against the Folk Festival and I am not one of those people, I am in favour of both events, but as far as bringing money into the town is concerned, the Folk Festival is No 1.
I fully understand your point Mr Heslerton. On a purely commercial basis you must favour the event that will bring you most profit. But! don’t believe that the folk week will last for ever. The Regatta will outlast it. The folk scene grew and is now in decline. No wonder really, its not much of a spectacle for the audience.
It will decline much as Goth week is doing.
The Regatta is part of the town’s tradition and has attracted visitors for decades as well as providing sporting rivalry for the locals. Long may it continue.
It would be good to hear how Carmen knows that the folk scene is in decline.
Care to publish anything more than anecdotal evidence? In my experience it is just the opposite.
More folk clubs are opening; more sessions are happening and it is one of the few areas of the record industry where sales of actual CD’s are growing.
Whitby, like New York and London,
Is a city that’s not known to sleep.
If it’s not drunken revellers, its seagulls
And the strange, graveyard hours that they keep.
Now Sidney the short, stomping seagull
Was trying to get the steps right,
Tip tapping away on the roof tiles
In the long dreary hours of the night.
And as Sidney strutted out his stuff
He sang with great volume and tone
In a voice whose beauty was hidden to men
And perhaps known to God’s ears alone.
Now Sid was a bird of nobility
Who soared round the rooftops and ships
Not skulking about with his cousins
And looking for scraps on the tips.
No, Sid was a diligent, industrious gull
Who had always worked hard for his living
Entertaining the trippers to Whitby
In return for the scraps they were giving.
Sid had found out it was folk week
And to maximise all of his tips
He was practising his Morris steps.
It earned him more cold fish and chips.
But Steve had little sympathy
With this poor struggling bird
And addressed him most unkindly
With an extremely, front line, naughty word
Then Terri reprimanded Steve
With a tale she had heard from the priests
Of the wonderful works of St Francis
And his love for the birds and the beasts.
“Let’s take him along to some workshops,
The ones that don’t get too packed,
And show him some real possibilities
For a polished, professional act.”
To the friendship rowing club on the night
They took Sid along to the session
Where the “here is one I wrote earlier” set
Were indulging in doleful expression.
Where the bar room miners and sailors
Were competing in music and song
To see who could be the most morbid
And evoke the most tears from the throng
There were stories of desperate cowboys
Running in fear of their lives,
Diseases, dead dogs and divorces
And poor, drowned young fishermens’ wives.
Before long the dirges and droning
Began to get poor Sidney stressed
By the time he got to the end of his crisps
He was really feeling depressed.
Sadly, Sid slid out of the Friendship
With a length of old rope in his hand
And hung himself, by the light of the moon,
By the dark and the cold Whitby strand.
But let’s not get morbid about it
Indeed, let our spirits be high.
Is anyone here feeling hungry?
We’ve plenty of fresh seagull pie!
Are the dates you have shown correct ?
Normally the Folk Week is from Saturday to Friday of the week preceding the English, August Bank Holiday (this would make it August 18th. to 24th. this year). Your dates make it Monday to Sunday of the week preceding the English, August Bank Holiday (ie. August 20th. to 26th.)
Quite right, Frank, it is during the 18th to the 24th.
And once again, the rugby club will be the best venue in town. This year, Whitby’s own Conquest Brewery has agreed to supply Broadsword to the rugby club in time for folk week. This is a one-off, as the brewery is being stripped out after that, and switching to a larger facility. And I’m told there will also be Theakston’s Lightfoot – so some excellent craft beers as well as great music in a folk-friendly venue.
The dates of Whitby Folk Week are fixed in the following way.
It takes place during the last full week, Saturday to Friday before the English August Bank Holiday which in turn is on the last Monday in August each year.
In 2013 the Bank Holiday is on Monday 26th August and therefore Whitby Folk Week occurs on 17th to 23rd August 2013.
This information has been given many times to the Whitby Gazette, SBC, Whitby Town Council, Whitby Regatta (before it became a limited company) and many other organisations.
Hopefully Real Whitby can take this simple formula on board and not need reminding every year!
Came at the early May Bank holiday weekend to look at the Moor & Coast. Saw plenty of seagulls!
I’m Sid the Seagull’s daughter.
Samantha is my name.
I’m on a sacred mission
To avenge my family’s shame.
You’ve heard of how my father
Was seduced by thoughts of fame
As a Morris dancing seabird
Which drove him quite insane.
Now I screech and squawk throughout the night
And clatter on the tiles
And in the cool and darkened air
It carries many miles.
Unlike the modern banker
Whose glory days are over
I can put a large deposit down
Upon a new Range Rover
In truth I’m a regular crackshot (yes, crackshot!)
And love to see some white
Upon those lovely coloured cars
All blasted with my …. errrm … droppings
So if you’re Whitby born and bred
Or just here for the day
Be mindful of my mission
Keep your car out of my way!
Rambling Sid
Rambling Sid, I have just read your 3 poems and thought they were superb. Thoroughly enjoyed them.
Where can I find some more?
All the very best from
David Moore
Hi David,
Thanks for that. You can catch more such nonsense on http://www.onlyinhull.wordpress.com
Best regards,
Sid