An Insider’s Look at International Ukulele Festivals

BY UKULELE BARTT | FROM THE SUMMER 2026 ISSUE OF UKULELE MAGAZINE

International ukulele festivals are spectacular, wacky, and mesmerizing. Tickets can seem pricey, but when you consider the mountains that organizers must move, the value of a ukefest experience is immeasurable. You’ll treasure the memories that go beyond concerts and workshops. You’ll renew your excitement for music. You’ll have fun! 

I’ve played for years at international festivals—if you’ve attended a ukefest across Europe, North America, or Down Under, we’ve likely crossed paths. Now follow me backstage and discover the four-string magic of some of the current ukefests taking place around the world. 

It’s an Ukulele Planet 

Italy, Brazil, Malaysia—they’re all ukulele party centers. These countries across the planet convene pros and locals alike to celebrate the camaraderie and joy of our little wooden friend. Everyone knows about the fabulous concerts and insightful teachers, but something special here is that the line between “pro” and “local” evaporates at these boisterous blowouts. Joy abounds at ukefests, a blend of music and friendship where social interaction is as important as musical enjoyment. 

“At our festival, artists and attendees are completely mixed,” says João Tostes, organizer of Brazil’s Festivo Brasiliero de Ukulele. “The artists are also part of the audience. Everyone dances together. There’s no separation, no hierarchy.” 

In Monopoli, Italy, Mauro Minenna describes his Monopolele festival as, “A place where you can make mistakes, learn, laugh, and play together. It’s a festival that takes care of relationships, not just the schedule.” 

 Traveling to Malaysia or Los Angeles? Take a workshop, watch world-class uke players, and revel in the vibes. Mitch Chang has spent a decade bringing his sun-soaked  Los Angeles International Ukulele Festival to Southern California, and Kelly Teh has been producing the Malaysia Ukulele Festival since 2018. Other festivals emerge regularly, too—maybe there’s a new one happening near you?

What You’ll Experience

Excitement awaits in parks, pubs, and concert halls, but the performances
and workshops take center stage. Collaborations are commonplace under the big lights. Your favorite ukers often jam together during their concerts, creating one-time-only performances. 

“One of the most fun moments,” says Minenna, “is when the festival ‘gets out of hand’ in the best possible way, when the official program ends and spontaneous late-night jam sessions begin. Seeing international artists, absolute beginners, and local people from Monopoli playing together along the seaside until very late, with no stage and no hierarchy, is something that surprises us every year and always makes us smile.” 

Teh agrees. “My favorite moments are when a favorite artist or even a surprise guest appears on stage unexpectedly,” she says.

It’s true. I’ve played Beethoven with Phil Doleman in Great Britain, and in the Czech Republic I teamed up with Feng E to play “Stairway to Heaven” in its entirety. In Italy, we had a quartet of Japan’s Ryo Natoyama and Tomoki Sato joining me (from the United States) and Italy’s Ukulollo, and we performed a three-language version of John Denver’s “Country Roads.” Anything might happen. Bring your camera! 

Love is all over the place at international festivals. Warm welcomes are the norm. Pop open your uke case and watch strangers become compatriots. Jams pop up spontaneously in hotel rooms, restaurants, and sidewalks. Headliners hang out in cafés and strum alongside locals, so it’s easy to say hello to the players that you’ve been squinting at on your phone all year.  

Tostes has often seen these spontaneous get-togethers in Brazil. “People spend time together, talk, play, share meals, share music,” he says. “The scale is always human. People walk, meet by chance, carry instruments on their backs and make music everywhere. The city becomes part of the festival, and the festival becomes part of the city.” 

Kinship and connection make you a part of everything ukulele, whether you’re a
pro or a Sunday strummer. Online friends become in-person friends. The culture of community shines gloriously. Even the best players were once beginners, so they encourage you and remove all intimidation. You’ll feel at home with everyone that you’ve seen on the big stage. 

“I wanted to build something different,” Chang says of the L.A. festival, “a place where a kid, a parent, a senior, and a professional musician could all share the same space, learn from each other, and feel equally valued.” He also says that one goal is to “help spark creativity and connection that lasts long after the weekend is over.” 

Teh concurs, saying that in Malaysia she hopes to create “an energetic, joyful, and fun atmosphere where everyone feels welcome and inspired.” 

Tostes puts it succinctly: “More than an event, we want it to feel like a gathering. A place where people arrive as individuals and slowly become a group. That sense of togetherness is at the heart of everything we do.” 

You’ll encounter local uke groups performing on side stages, too. It’s not about how well they play; it’s about how much fun they’re having. 

Silly costumes and crazy stage outfits make their way into these performances. At a Halloween ukefest a few years back, we were greeted by a wonderful, twinkly-eyed grandmother dressed in a head-to-toe ukulele costume. We took photos with her, and when she passed away a few years later, her family wrote to tell me that those photos were shown at her memorial.

What You’ll Learn 

Workshops are the crowd-pleasers, but you’ll also learn at casual jams. Because everyone has a unique point of view and playing style, you’ll pick up little bits from everyone. 

Are great players always great teachers, and vice-versa? Not necessarily. Performing in front of a big crowd is different from leading a small face-to-face group, so you’ll find that pro players have varying levels of comfort in workshop settings. But most good players have something to offer.

Playing an instrument requires a certain set of skills and mentality. But teaching others to play requires a talent for distilling information and presenting it in a way that’s easy to absorb. The popular workshop leaders usually balance these two paths and give you something that’s fun, learnable, and useful. 

Many great teachers are average players that mainly just strum along. But they have a personality that engages people, makes them feel at home, and inspires them to get excited about learning. So even if they’re teaching basic techniques that you already know, you can still refresh your sense of adventure by getting involved in their workshops.

For his festival, Minenna looks for “artists who have something to share, who can connect with people, who are curious about others. Monopolele is not a showcase; it’s a meeting point.”

Chang seeks more than just great playing ability when booking his workshop leaders. “It’s not just about talent,” he says, “it’s about character, generosity, and a willingness to lift others up.” 

In Malaysia, the sentiment is similar. “Teacher Kelly” assembles her lineups thoughtfully. “I consider several factors,” she says, “including skill level, friendliness, charisma, and stage presence.”

Tostes feels the same way. When he compiles his rosters, he says, “There’s no competition, no star system. What we cultivate is closeness, shared presence, and the joy of making music together.”

Your personality is bound to match with one workshop leader or another. Google everyone to find your type: intense, gentle, kid-friendly, deeply educational, or whatever else floats your boat.

Where and When

Monopolele happens each May, about 300 miles southeast of Rome in the city of Monopoli, in the “heel” of Italy’s “boot.” Minenna says that his festival was “born in the Mediterranean and carries that identity with it: openness, cross-pollination, dialogue between cultures. The ukulele is at the center, but around it orbit other instruments, traditions, and musical languages.”

Monopolele has featured international artists like Hawaii’s Aldrine Guerrero, Britain’s Peter Moss, and Canada’s James Hill. “We hope people who attend say, ‘It wasn’t just a festival. It was an experience,’” says Minenna.

The Festival Brasileiro de Ukulele happens in January in various locations around the historic municipality of Tiradentes, 225 miles northwest of Rio de Janeiro. It has featured Brazilian performer Vinícius Vivas and Taiwanese uker David Chen, among others.

“We choose beautiful, historic locations, and the surroundings become part of the experience,” says Tostes. “People travel from far away not only to attend the festival, but also to live the place, to walk the city, to experience its history.”

Your Asian uke destination for September is the Malaysia Ukulele Festival in Melaka, on the southeast coast of Malaysia, a two-hour drive from Kuala Lumpur. Organizer Teh seemingly has two hands on every project in the country. She is proud of the international nature of her events. “Our festival opens with a celebration of Malaysian local cultural dance, featuring vibrant traditional costumes that highlight our rich cultural identity,” says Teh. “Everyone is invited onstage regardless of status or experience.” Among the artists she has welcomed to the stage are Thailand’s Apple Show and local Malaysian musician Cindy Yeh. 

Teh considers the food to be a vital element of the social experience of a ukefest as well. “Malaysians love food,” she explains, “so choosing a shopping mall with a wide variety of eateries is an important consideration.” 

Chang covers all angles of the Los Angeles festival experience in September, in Torrance, about ten miles south of the L.A. Airport. In 2026, he’ll host Scottish uker Zoë Bestel, local red-headed charmer Cali Rose, and me, Ukulele Bartt. He likes to see fans “talking about the people they met, the artists they discovered, and the songs they played together, especially if they came in as first-timers,” he says.

Who You Can Be 

At a ukefest, you can be silly. You can be formal or casual. You can wear that ridiculous outfit that you bought at a swap meet eight years ago and never knew what to do with. You can dress in a tuxedo. Ukulele festivals are dress-up parties and casual get-togethers in one fun package. 

In the tons of festivals I’ve played all over the world, I have never seen anyone ostracized for any belief system that they may hold. Economic strata are nonexistent. Social standing is irrelevant. People are there to have fun and party, so you can be yourself in your truest way and enjoy the freedom that comes with knowing that you’re surrounded by kindness.

Attendees are not alone in this feeling. The affectionate afterglow of a festival wraps its arms around the performers, too. The fun is ever-present. Something that I especially get a kick out of is hanging out with the other touring players. Backstage and in the hotel rooms, our friendships are tight and our silliness is enormous.

I have a treasure trove of goofy videos and photos that will never see the light of the internet, hopefully. Things like a nonsensical, profanity-riddled jingle featuring the Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain and myself, which we spontaneously cooked up at dinner while someone captured it on video.

And I have memories like hanging out with 104-year-old uke legend Bill Tapia, the wackiest character in all the uke world, who joked about the termites in his strumming arm and the 30-year mortgage he signed at age 99, fully intending to pay it off. 

Everyone is surrounded by the same opportunities to make friends, have a little fun, or get away from life for a few days. The connections we make are of the same ilk; whether we’re well-known ukers or first-timers, ukulele brings forth our sense of fun, our feelings of joy and our understanding that the biggest difference between a “star” and a “fan” is usually just a handful of likes on Instagram.