For the absolute, complete, total beginner in ukulele

The ukulele is the quickest and easiest way to make music and connect with others. The first step is getting a ukulele and learning how to play it. Then you can strum, sing, and socialise!

Don’t miss the opportunity to learn with others, interactively online with others in a group class. Register via Google Form or Eventbrite. Minimum enrollment applies, otherwise class will be postponed or rescheduled with notice.

Complete Beginner Classes $139
No pre-requisites except a ukulele and clip-on tuner. This is the very first group lesson in Zoom: how to hold, tune, and strum your ukulele; how to read chord diagrams, how to finger chords, how to switch between chords; two chord songs; three chord songs; how to read song sheets; other tips and advice. For more information and free taster workshop dates, visit my ukulele page.

• 5 Mondays 5:30 – 6:30 pm (9/14 – 10/12/2020)
• 5 Tuesdays 12:30 – 1:30 pm (9/15 – 10/13/2020)

The journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step. And everyone is an absolute, complete, total beginner before taking the first step, even to learn the ukulele.

Like the story of the lottery ticket, any endeavor starts with the very first step.  Early in 2018, when I first announced a beginner’s ukulele workshop, people asked

“Is it for the absolute beginner?”

“I know nothing. I don’t even have a ukulele. Is it for the total beginner?”

“I’m a complete beginner. Is it for me?”

There is a big difference between the total novice and someone who knows a little bit about playing the ukulele. Hence, my “crash course for complete beginners” was born. It’s a 1.5 hour workshop to introduce the ukulele. The only pre-requisite is that you show up and stay for the duration of the class. If you don’t have an instrument, you can rent one from me for $10. If you don’t have a clip-on tuner, I can lend you one.

Forgetting that we were once complete beginners, we underestimate the need to explain the different kinds of ukuleles and the time to tune a newly bought ukulele or one that’s been sitting in the closet for years, never touched or played. Ukuleles, like people, need to be tuned until the strings settle down and get comfortable. Likewise, we continually adjust ourselves to our environment until we feel at home.

At my first crash course in May 2018, ten adults showed up eager to learn. Some drove from as far as Framingham, one to two hours drive away. Others trekked from nearby neighborhoods of Quincy, Milton, and Jamaica Plain.

Those not from this area of Boston marvel at the unique location. There’s a stendhalismo effect when walking from the Milton T-station, on the bridge over the Neponset River that demarcates Dorchester and Milton, between the impressive red brick buildings of the oldest chocolate factory in America, until they stand directly in front of the Walter Baker building, the only building of its kind in this area.

After stepping inside the spacious hall, they look up and see the wall painting of La Belle Chocolatiere, who adorned the labels of Baker chocolate products, once upon a time. The resident artists’ artwork hang on the walls of all three floors. The common room, where we meet for ukulele workshops and jam sessions (and guitar orchestra rehearsals), is naturally bright from the three tall windows facing the south and south east.

I remember when I touched my first ukulele, a borrowed one from a colleague in Hawaii. “What kind of ukulele is it?” asked another colleague. I had no idea there were more than one kind. I had no idea how to tell the difference. I didn’t know how it was supposed to be tuned. Had I known how easy it was to learn it, especially having played the guitar and other instruments, I would have taken my first step much much earlier.

In hindsight, it’s amazing what it took to become aware of the ukulele. It’s as though I had resisted against what was so blatantly obvious. On Maui, I lived a stone’s throw away from a shop dedicated to selling ukuleles. Their shop sign “Mele Ukulele” teased me each time I made a turn onto my own street. My landlord’s son built ukuleles from his garage workshop nextdoor. Each year the annual Hawaii ukulele festival came to Maui, performing within earshot of my home and work place. And yet, I didn’t take my first step until six months before I left the island.

Here in Boston, I’m eager to grow the number of enthusiastic amateur ukulele players and singers so that we could rehearse weekly and perform as a group in various locations. As a chamber musician who has toured many pretty, quaint villages in the Netherlands, giving a live musical performance is one way to connect with local communities.

In London, performing with fifty other ukulele players in the Hanwell Ukulele Group made me feel like a rock star, as the immediate audience response causes an infinite feedback loop, spiraling out of this world. The flow experience, or that adrenalin kick, from giving a concert or competing in sports is exhilarating and addictive. It also feels great to play next to someone I know, in a group rather than as a soloist.

Here in Historic Lower Mills of Dorchester, in Boston, I was so pleased that one of the ten complete beginners from the crash course stayed for the ukulele jam session afterwards on 30th May 2018 and dedicated herself to practising to perform in our first public gig on 20th June, barely three weeks later. The outdoor concert lasted exactly one-hour, with a hula dancer dancing to three Hawaiian songs, and a variety of genres including blues and pop music. If everyone were as fearless and committed, we’d reach the critical mass needed to call ourselves a ukulele band. As yet, we don’t have a name for our group.

I look forward to our next thematic jam session, when we will play songs about locations from Boston to San Francisco, including the two songs with only two chords “Deep in the Heart of Texas” and “Born in the USA.” I’d like to precede every jam session with a beginner’s workshop, for those who are no longer complete beginners.