Uke Tales: A Musical Link with an Old Friend & Building with Aloha

In this installment of Uke Tales, readers wrote to us about an eternal connection made by a friend’s ukulele, and building a special instrument with aloha. We love hearing your uke stories! Send them to us at editors.uke@stringletter.com.


Musical Link with an Old Friend

John Phillpott playing ukulele and inset photo of Mick Wall playing upright bass

I first met Mick Wall in 1984, when both our wives were pregnant. Right from the start, we hit it off—fellow guitar players who would soon be doing the occasional gig around their adopted city of Worcester.

When Mick wasn’t on the road as a mime artist, either as a solo act or with his troupe Circus Burlesque, he’d pop round to my house, and out would come the guitars. Any excuse, as our long-suffering wives would eagerly confirm. Sometimes, we’d get a band together, and perform at any venue that would have us. Great days, wonderful memories.

Mick died in October 2017, after a prolonged struggle with alcohol addiction. Fellow musicians, poets, and assorted performers all played their part in ensuring his send-off would be a day to remember.

A few weeks after the funeral, his wife, Angie, came around to my house. She was clutching a ukulele, and she wanted me to have it in memory of Mick. It’s what he would have wanted, she said. He played guitar, banjo, mandolin, double bass, and yes, ukulele. As far as I can tell, Mick took up the ukulele relatively late in life. But no doubt he mastered the instrument, just as he had done with all the others.

When Covid struck, with its attendant lockdowns, I resolved to make this my mission—to learn how to play this little instrument. I knew the four strings would be tuned differently than guitar. I soon discovered that my ukulele was a soprano, and a quick search of the internet offered several tunings. I settled for G C E A, which seemed to be favored by quite a few players. 

The next port of call was the local music shop, where I bought a chord book, a set of spare strings, plus a case for my new little friend. I was all set to embark on my voyage of discovery.

The Covid spring of 2020 was unusually warm, so I set to work at the end of the garden, happily strumming in the sunshine. Some of my neighbors must have wondered, What’s John playing now?

I discovered that the ukulele is not only the perfect rhythm instrument—and quite loud to boot—but it’s very versatile when it comes to solo work. As time went on and my confidence grew, I started to experiment with arpeggio picking, finding that the ukulele is equally suited to ragtime styles with the high treble sound ringing loud and clear.


Advertisement


Since this little soprano ukulele came into my life, it has travelled across Europe, to Turkey, and recently to the Caribbean. For when it comes to ukuleles, size is indeed everything. This particular uke fits into my hand luggage without complaint, is rarely challenged at security (unlike my harmonica), and can be played soft or loud, depending on the environment.

But most of all, the ukulele is my musical link with an old friend who, though no longer with us, somehow always seems to be there in spirit every time I pick it up and play.

—John Phillpott
Worcester, England


Building with Aloha

Christopher Trietsch with handmade ukulele

I was on Oahu this past November to attend the Hawaiian Ukulele Experience, the Ukulele Guild of Hawaii’s (UGH) international showcase. Ukulele builders from around the world gathered to display their finest work, attend workshops, share ideas, and of course, kanikapila

But my connection to the showcase began the year prior, when I was living in Hawaii. It was then that I was introduced to Cente Arkangel, a master ukulele builder (and player to boot!). The shop he worked out of was named Waialua Sky after the town it is in and the song of the same title. 

The ukulele shop is located on Na Mea Kupono, a taro farm where Steven Bolosan and Felis “Ku’uipo” Garrido grow and cultivate Hawaii’s ancient crop. We fondly refer to it as the lo’i farm—lo’i referring to the pools of water the taro grows in. The ukulele shop on the lo’i farm was a long time in the making and saw many hands pitch in to bring it to life. When the shop was ready, Cente led Steven through building an ukulele with a Spanish heel-style construction, and they stocked the shop with the tools and jigs needed along the way. They call that instrument “the ukulele that built the shop.” 

Cente graciously invited me to the lo’i farm to meet the ukulele builders at Waialua Sky during their weekly session, and everyone was incredibly kind and welcoming. I arrived around 9:30 am and didn’t leave until after 8 pm!

After that, I made the 30-mile drive from Honolulu to Waialua every week for a month to spend an entire day building with my new friends. The last week of building before it was time for me to return to New York was very special because the crew hanai me into their ohana. Hanai is an ancient Hawaiian practice of adoption used to build strong inter-family connections and secure the passing of knowledge to the next generation. 


Advertisement


Our goal was for each of us to build a double-back ukulele to present together in one huge display at the UGH showcase. The Covid-19 pandemic had paused this show for the past few years, and everyone was looking forward to the return of the event in November 2023.

The showcase included builders and players from around the world, and the Waialua Sky Ukulele Builders had a phenomenal exhibit. There were ten double-back ukuleles showcased, with 28 of our handmade instruments on display. My double-back ukulele features lua pele (volcano), with a lava fissure on the fingerboard and red/black volcanic purfling lines throughout. I built this as a tribute to my time in Hawaii when I was adopted into the group.

I am incredibly grateful to my ohana at Waialua Sky for welcoming me so warmly into their shop and teaching me so much about ukulele building and Hawaiian culture. Most important though, I am thankful for the time we were able to spend together
and the aloha that we share to this day.

—Christopher Trietsch
Long Island, New York