Once regarded as a children’s toy, the ukelele rose to prominence a few years back. The sound of four strings strummed across a hollow box rendered light as a soufflé what might otherwise have been the indie gloom of bands like Vampire Weekend, inspired a number of ukelele orchestras, found its way onto a multiplicity of movie soundtracks and was finally plucked from the cultural periphery like a blithe runaway and put to work by unscrupulous advertisers. The little ukelele is now used to televisually flog everything from Nikon cameras to potential partners as demonstrated in Match.com’s recent campaign.

However, while the ukelele may now be culturally present to an almost irritating degree, it’s a symbol of how our relationship to music has undergone an important transformation. For a long time, we were passive listeners, gathered at the foot of stages in homage to our guitar-wielding musical heroes. It now seems that we are no longer content to simply listen, but rather expect to participate in musical culture

 

The growing number of ukelele ‘orchestras’ was a preliminary sign of change.  Although such outfits have sprung up all over the world, The Ukelele Orchestra of Great Britain (UOGB) came first, its members a diverse bunch of self-proclaimed ordinary working folk who playfully strum cover tracks and dress in tuxedos. Those with an interest in the practicalities of musical performance know that the ukelele is inexpensive and a wonderfully easy instrument to master, especially given the abundant tutorials and easy-to-read chord charts available online. Anyone with £20 to spare and an internet connection can get started. So the mock seriousness with which the UOGB execute covers of traditionally deified tunes from across the musical spectrum, leaping in a single set from Tchaikovsky to Nirvana, introduces a pinch of salt into the usually deadly serious business of performance.

 

The UOGB helped to defuse the idea that there’s something sacred about the musician onstage. However, ukelele lovers at the Queen of Hoxton have taken the process a step further by setting up a weekly Ukelele Hootenanny. Instead of clapping along from afar, absolute beginners can rent an instrument on the night, learn a few tunes and immediately participate in a play-along. The Hootenanny differs from more traditional jam sessions and workshops because it specifically aims to attract would-be partygoers and the Hoxton hip as well as hobbyists out to learn a new skill. ‘It involves everyone from beginners to people who have been playing for years. It collectively works’, says Hootenanny organiser Martin Laking.

 

Of course, the notion of a good knees-up has a well-respected heritage in London. As Laking points out, not so long ago ‘every pub had a piano which anyone could come and play, with many customers willing to get up and sing, and the rest happy to sing along. I would be pleased to see more of this in whats left of our pubs and bars’. So in one sense, the Hootenanny is rekindling a long tradition.

 

A less performer-centred and more democratic attitude to music is undoubtedly a good thing. As the French philosopher Jacques Ranciere argued, a world divided into spectators and  performers is a world divided into followers and leaders; those who passively absorb and those who pull the strings. As Ranciere points out in his book The Emancipated Spectator, ‘looking is the opposite of knowing. It means being in front of an appearance without knowing the conditions of production of that appearance or the reality which is behind it (…) she who looks at the spectacle remains motionless in his or her seat, without any power of intervention’. When we observe the musician onstage, they become a spectacle, something separate from the realm of our ordinary experience. The danger is that in deifying the participants in the spectacle, we cast ourselves in the role of consumer. Being able to join in means that we actively contribute to the creation of culture rather than passively consume it.

 

The humble ukelele’s recent odyssey therefore a reminder that listening to music en masse is all about having a good time. Which is something positive to consider next time you grit your teeth against the plaintive plinkety-plink of the man on the match.com ad.

 

The next Ukelele Hootenanny will take place on Tuesday 16th April at the Queen of Hoxton, 1-5 Curtain Road, EC2A 3JX at 6.30pm.