Julie Hamill: Return of Camden’s Black Cap

I remember going to The Black Cap in the 1990s with my friend Martin. It was dimly lit venue with lots of dark wood and torn posters. It needed a lick of paint and a few repairs, but when the stage lights went up and the drag queen came on, it was a celebration like no other.

The Georgian building has stood on Camden High Street since 1751. From the mid-1960s it became the home of drag, with acts such as Mrs Shufflewick, Danny La Rue, Hinge and Bracket, Maisie Trollette, Lily Savage and Regina Fong appearing regularly. All brought flamboyance, wit and sharp comedy that united the room in laughter and song. From then on The Black Cap earned its billing as the “Palladium of Drag” and established itself as north London’s vital safe space for queer entertainment.

In 2015 its doors were closed after plans were unveiled to convert the building into flats. In response, supporters of the We Are The Black Cap campaign staged protests for nearly 12 years, repeatedly standing outside the venue on Saturday afternoons. “They didn’t count on the community’s resistance,” they write of their mission to defend the venue’s history and the thousand reasons why it mattered.

Endurance paid off, and in March The Black Cap reopened to an emotional celebration. The Palladium of Drag has been revived, with appearances from Baga Chipz, Victoria Scone, Tiana Biscuit, Polly Glamorous and many more carrying the “Cap-baret” into the next decades.

Arriving at the venue, I take a tour with Raphael Motycki, the new general manager. The tiled Mother Black Cap mural on the left-hand wall of the entrance, dating from 1776, has been newly restored. It tells the eerie 18th Century story of a man disguised as a woman, wearing a cape and black cap, hiding from the law. Raphael tells me that many people believe it’s the first-ever image of a drag queen.

Most notably, a square viewing hatch remains on the downstairs front doors. In the 1960s, this was opened and closed to check for police raids. The historical significance of that hatch stays in my mind as we tour the new surroundings – a relic of a different time.

The layout inside is the same as it was before, with the long narrow downstairs bar on the right and the stage at the end of the room. But it looks as if a wand has been waved and turned it into a queen’s palace.

More than £2 million has gone into the renovation, with plush velvet banquettes in deep reds and rich greens, gold fringe lounge lighting, glowing neon signs and tastefully framed photographs of past performers who have graced the stage.

There are thoughtful details everywhere. Curated memorabilia include a pair of Lily Savage’s earrings, donated by Paul O’Grady’s husband, with “Too glam to give a damn” quoted underneath. The DJ booth is built from a converted church pulpit, and the stage has a retractable catwalk which allows performers to be close to the audience.

New facilities include two disco toilets, one of which is fully wheelchair accessible. When there, you can press an emergency button, disco lights will flash and Kylie or Gloria will blast out to join you in your private moment.

The upstairs Shufflewick bar is more refined. The updated roof terrace, due to open the day after my visit, carries a blue plaque honouring Fong as “Her Imperial Highness the Grand Duchess” and “Last of the Romanoffs.” As Raphael points things out, it’s clear that his warm, infectious energy is yet another light bulb that adds to the sparkle of the place.

There are tons of stories behind the candelabra of The Black Cap, including Raphael’s own. He came to London from Poland 16 years ago for an X Factor audition. Singing jazz, he made it through to the second round, with Simon Cowell offering encouragement and industry contacts and telling him he was a true artist. Raphael fell in love with London and decided to stay. “The community and society is so nice in this city. I was immediately hooked by its openness,” he says. “Being extraordinary is rewarded in London.”

I love it that he said that, and he goes on to tell me he was recommended for the The Black Cap role by a colleague whom he had worked with at a bar in Maida Vale. She knew he’d be perfect and sent him forth to meet the owners. “I like to think that The Black Cap is calling the right people,” he says.

He mentions that getting the place open again is a credit to those who held the weekly vigil: “It never stopped until we reopened. The protesters, Camden Council and investors met in the middle. It shows that if people can listen to each other, miracles can happen. North London doesn’t have an LGBTQ+ scene and people are grateful for it. We have to keep a safe space for queer people. That’s what we are focusing on – inclusivity for everyone. Plus, I think beautiful spaces are needed!”

We walk around upstairs as he shows me some of the new £200-a-night hotel rooms. Each is stylish, theatrical and unexpectedly calm, with names like “The Miss Behave Suite”, “The Imperial Suite”, “Masquerade” and “Maisie Trollette’s Legacy Room”. In one of the rooms there’s a piece of art, a standard (man) lamp, which I love.

“That lamp can be a bit scary when you wake up in the night,” Raphael laughs.

“I like him!” I reply, “I’d love to stay in this room!” And then he tells me about the ghosts…

“We have three ghosts in the building, but don’t worry, they’re all in the basement!”

“As you like him,” he says, pointing to the lamp, “we should name him. Who do you think?”

“He looks like a Julian,” I say.

“Julian, that’s it!” he claps. “Everybody who comes here adds something. I take a piece of everyone and keep it here. I will get a little name for between his feet!”

I’m overjoyed that I’ve been honoured with the christening of Julian the man lamp, and as we head back out onto the roof terrace I ask Raphael whether he thinks The Black Cap’s customer profile has changed.

“I don’t think it is different,” he replies. “We wanted to keep the spirit of the old Black Cap. It was inclusive before inclusivity was a thing. Everyone was welcome here, and everyone is still welcome. We want people to show up and have a good time – a community to come together.”

It seems Raphael is just getting started. He has plans to get a wedding licence and to add live music on the roof terrace. He has even reached out to Banksy, inviting him to paint an exposed brick wall.

We head back downstairs and hug goodbye. He pauses to reflect: “You know, as soon as I saw the shutters, how they used to check through this hatch for the police, I realised how lucky I am to live as a gay man today, when, back then, it was criminal just to be me.”

Now, the lights are on, the doors are open, and everyone is welcome at The Black Cap. As Raphael put it, “Being extraordinary is rewarded.”