The Wellington International Ukulele Orchestra’s first international gig was at The Oxford Art Factory in Sydney on Friday 25th January, 2011. And it was, in a word, delightful. Nine ukuleles and a double bass filled the small stage, as this troupe of talented kiwis charmed the heads off everyone in the sold-out audience. The WIUO is unpretentious, tongue-in-cheek charm meets actual musical talent.
The tongue in cheek obviously begins with the title, which itself is parody compounded upon parody. Wellington is New Zealand’s third largest city, about 380000 people, on the southern tip of New Zealand’s north island; it is the capital city of the land down under The Land Down Under. It is well known that Australia has drained NZ of all its major claims to fame; Crowded House, Jane Campion and Russell Crowe for example. Leaving NZ with apparently nothing but sheep and bungee jumping to lure the crowds. This apparent lack of appeal, when properly harnessed, paradoxically begets massive appeal. They’re the underdog’s underdog. So, in the same vain as Flight of the Conchords, the orchestra capitalises on the perception of New Zealand as some parochial nowhere land at the end of middle earth, and proudly redesigns that apparent geographical deficiency as the key selling point [1]. Australians will have a difficult time divorcing these folks from Aotearoa.
Then there is the fact that they also claim to be “international”. How is it possible that anything so insular and isolated can be “international”? The Wellington International Ukulele Orchestra are the small town equivalent a real or imagined monuments for an “international” order that does not have a corresponding reality. They trade on some shared unconscious perception that it is a modern technological miracle that people in Wellington can know anything at all about the outside world. But they also play up that particular perception of New Zealanders as parochial, humble and polite; they are ironic and entirely self aware of their performance of supreme un-selfaware dweebiness. And as a result, it seems, they have international appeal.
Then, of course, there is the important fact that “they” are a “ukulele orchestra”. The ukulele currently is enjoying some time in the lime light, it is the instrument de jour, I have now one and so, it seems, does everyone else. But, the ukulele is a long way away from having the cultural cachet of the violin or piano. The uke is not the main instrument in an orchestra, and the ukulele player is not considered a virtuoso. You couldn’t, for instance, make a film like The Red Violin about an equivalently valuable Red Ukulele lusted over by Samuel L. Jackson and follow its travels around the world over four hundred years. Likewise, Michael Haneke’s fantastic psychodrama The Piano Teacher would not quite pack the same punch, so to speak, if Isabelle Huppert was just a crazy ukulele teacher. It’s strength is that it is low brow, and that it is humorously small and oddly tuned. The uke is both the sound of a the hawaiian sunset and of the minstrel clown, it looks like a baby’s guitar but the strings, G-C-E-A, do not gradually increase in pitch, but rather start on a high G, and then drop to the C below and then climb up again. The fact that this is a entire orchestra of ukes simply compounds all these general oddities. And, of course, the amazing thing about the WIUO is that they are pretty damn orchestral, their songs are “arranged”, with different complimentary parts designed to produce a complex and holistic sound. There is the richness of sound created, as if by aural illusion, by a the nine ukes and a single Double Bass that operates as a rhythm section, only several octaves lower than the the rest. There is also, as in any orchestra or rock band, the epic ukulele solos where the lead uke-ist takes centre stage and completely rocks out, only, on a uke, almost inaudibly, with strange dweeby attention to detail.
Then there is the repertoire. Which is where the real genius lies: the charm, the irony, the dagginess, the orchestral talent, the Wellington-ness, the international ukuleles! They are essentially the world’s most amazing covers band. They played two sets which included some absolute classics and unlikely slices of trashy awesomeness – Dolly Parton’s Jolene, John Farnahm’s You’re the Voice (their special tribute to Australian music history), Salt n’ Pepa’s Push It, The Smith’s This Charming Man, Bonnie Tyler’s It’s a Heartache, and … drum roll please … Toto’s mega power ballad Africa. The experience of listening to the orchestra play these songs, for tragic karaoke-lovers such as myself, is like a giant collective karaoke session. But the most joyful hilarious version of karaoke. Have a listen their version of Africa here, and sing along!
Fortunately for the Orchestra, unfortunately for me, it was sold out by the time I sat down to invite people. Next time I won’t be so tardy. This is the kind of event you wanna share with all your favourite people.
