Newspaper Taxis

By Paul Tomic

Dec. 3 (Bloomberg) — Eric Clapton, Paul McCartney and Joe Strummer have a lot to answer for. They are fans of ukuleles, the tiny guitars making a comeback after decades of neglect.

A U.K. revival is being led by young musicians taking part in school schemes promoting the ukulele: The instrument’s influence is now out of proportion to its toy size. The Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain stages sell-out concerts and holds classes to encourage players. Demand is outstripping supply as sales surge.

“Interest is growing,” orchestra founder George Hinchcliffe says in an interview. “I often get phone calls from music shop owners telling me that one of our gigs in their area has boosted demand for ukes,” says Hinchcliffe, who has been playing a uke — “the little guitar with a big heart” — since he was six.

The ukulele, a descendant of a lute-like instrument from Madeira called the Braguina, hit the big time during the jazz age of the 1920s. Its high pitch –its Hawaiian name translates as “Jumping Flea” — earned it the contempt of musicians for decades, making it the favorite prop of comedians.

“Demand for ukes in general is increasing,” says Simon Briggs, manager at Les Aldrich’s Music Shop in North London. Local government education authorities have been encouraging ukulele classes alongside the traditional recorder. “It means we are now selling ukes on a daily basis. It’s outstanding.”

Spike Milligan gooned his way though the 1950s and 1960s playing his ukulele often; Tiny Tim tiptoed through the tulips with his, while the U.K.’s George Formby preferred the banjoleley.

Queen, Babyshambles

Slowly, the uke was taken more seriously. Strummer, of the Clash, busked in London with a uke. McCartney sees his as an after-dinner aid to relaxation. Other ukulele fans include Brian May of Queen, Pete Doherty of Babyshambles, Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam and the late Beatles John Lennon and George Harrison.

Ukulele virtuoso Jake Shimabukuro, a Hawaiian of Japanese descent, has become an Internet star with his version of the Beatles’ “While My Guitar Gently Weeps,” retitled “Ukulele Weeps.” The ukulele is an “untapped source of music with unlimited potential,” Shimabukuro says on his Web site. Connor Oberst and Patrick Wolf also use its unique sound.

Schools teaching the ukulele are helped by the relative ease with which it can be learned and its cheapness: 30 pounds (around $60) will get a reasonable one, though the finest ukes made from Koa wood can cost thousands of pounds. Some come in elaborate shapes, like the Gibson Flying V or Fender Telecaster. There are four strings, three tunings, and four sizes, from soprano to baritone. Enthusiasts congregate at the Duke of Uke shop in Spitalfields near the financial district. It often seems that having taken the plunge, owning one ukulele simply isn’t enough.

“Buying ukes is like a virus, a compulsion,” says Hestor Goodman, another member of the Ukulele Orchestra. She describes herself as a relative newcomer to the ensemble, having provided “a mere 18-years service.”

Handel to Nirvana

The eight-strong ensemble, formed for a one-off gig in London in the 1990s, has inspired similar bands as far afield as Wellington, New Zealand, and has recorded CDs and DVDs, the most recent called “Anarchy in the Ukulele.” Its repertoire ranges from Handel through Nirvana to Kate Bush and it organizes workshops at its base near Regent’s Park. To gauge the recent rise of the uke, I join one of the orchestra’s workshops.

Mixed Class

My fellow attendees are a good mixture of young and old, and each with their different reasons for attendance. One woman says her husband gave her a uke as a Christmas gift and she’s decided it’s time to learn play it. A teenager tells us with a laugh that he took up the uke “at around 10:30 this morning” and another woman traveled to the workshop from her home in the northwestern English town of Warrington, and is learning to play in order to establish an orchestra herself.

We try exercises designed to fit different chords, strumming patterns and playing styles. The enthusiasm is infectious and I’m disappointed to note that my hours of practice have failed to translate into the fluency needed to keep up with this many people.

As I leave the ukulele workshop, I receive anecdotal evidence of the instrument’s growing public recognition. I’m stopped in a Camden street by two men. “Excuse me, mate… that’s a ukulele in that bag, isn’t it?” I remark that I’m impressed that they recognized it from the shape and size of the case.

“You’re joking, aren’t you… it’s easy to guess what it is… I mean, everybody’s playing the ukulele nowadays…”