WE SHOULD ALL PLAY THE UKE

BY SAMUEL HARRIS

I hope that in this season of Eastertide your heart is joyful and that you are “mak[ing] this day a living hymn of praise” as the Divine Office’s intercessions for Easter Sunday have it. Around the diocese our parishes celebrated, each in their own way, the great Easter liturgies with an embrace of what Pope Benedict XVI called the “right way to give the faith its central form of expression in the liturgy”: a reverent and focused use of music to effect a “lifting up of the human heart” to the “mystery of infinite beauty”.

In this arts and culture section we want to include some conversation about music both sacred and secular, and to kick it off let’s look at one of music’s humblest but happiest expressions of joy: the sound of the ukulele.

The cheerful jangle of the ukulele makes an appearance on many contemporary pop tunes. Vance Joy’s hit “Riptide” and Jason Mraz’s “I’m Yours” get the foot tapping with their opening chords — that chunky strum, clean and simple. On her song “You and I”, Ingrid Michaelson sings, “Don’t you worry there my honey / We might not have any money / But we’ve got our love to pay the bills” over a sweet ukulele line.

The ukulele is ubiquitous on video sharing site YouTube, appearing in hundreds of clips of cover versions of hits past and present. In this happy stamping ground of the amateur, the uke shows off its nature as an instrument that is affordable and accessible to all — just as joy is.

Singer Julia Nunes’s mash-up of Justin Bieber’s “Baby” and the Supremes’ “Where Did Our Love Go?” and her “Build Me Up Buttercup‘’ are delights from start to finish. Have a look at a duo going by the name of Honoka & Azita playing a Beach Boys medley, blissful smiles on their faces; a deceptively simple version of “I Fought The Law’’ by a venerable bluesman named James Clem; actors Zooey Deschanel and Joseph Gordon-Levitt crooning a sweet and funny love song.

But joy is a thing that is found not just in dancing and laughter but also quieter, in the midst of sadness or suffering: the joy of hope and trust while hurting, of the recognition of the often-difficult experience of being human. “Sad songs can ring extra poignant on a uke because it has an innocence and clarity that can hit you right in the heart,” says Nunes.

See Twenty One Pilots’s singer Tyler Joseph taking Elvis’s

“Can’t Help Falling in Love” and a ukulele and upping the tune’s poignancy into something that celebrates love while suggesting the hard work of caritas. Hawaiian singer Israel Kamakawiwo’ole came to prominence outside his homeland in 1993 with the release of a beautiful medley of “Over the Rainbow” and “Wonderful World” (go now and look it up and then come back to this), his voice a mix of strength and tenderness and plaintive longing. “Someday I’ll . . . wake up where the clouds are far behind me / Where trouble melts like lemon drops /. . . What a wonderful world.”

Virtuoso Jake Shimabukuro shows that the ukulele can be a site of joyful musicianship for the expert player as well as the novice. His version of the Beatles’ “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” is something stunning. Much joy can be found in the Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain’s similarly skilful versions of classic pop and rock songs, among them “Rock Around the Clock” and “500 Miles”, and their renderings of classical pieces like Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy”. Also plinking out the joy is Hamilton’s own Big Muffin Serious Band. If you listen to just one song (or watch one video) of theirs, let it be their glorious version of the Country Calendar theme song; if you want more listen to their take on rocker Eddie Vedder’s “Tonight You Belong To Me” — and then listen to the original from Vedder’s quirky Ukulele Songs, a duet with Cat Power in another poignant love song.

“You can’t possibly be angry while you’re strumming the ukulele,” reckons Shimabukuro. “There’s something magical about the instrument that makes people smile and brings people together.” Documentary maker Bill Robertson says, “It’s about the size of a human infant. When you hold it to play, you hold it up close and you’re cradling it to your heart…[It] conveys a certain innocence.”

Childlike innocence, joy, an antidote to anger: what more could you want in an instrument?

Writing this article inspired this writer to lift down his ukulele from the cupboard where it languished and dig out another battered ukulele from the garage. That one made its way into my pre-school daughters’ hands where - you guessed it - it began to work its joyful magic. The house rang with many energetically strummed versions of “Twinkle Twinkle”, and as soon as I can find time to get to the music shop my long-unloved uke will be restrung and chords re-learned. In this I’ll be following ukulele player and Beatle George Harrison’s dictum, “Everybody should have and play a uke,” and, pursuing creative endeavours, I’ll be hoping, to paraphrase the psalmist, that my heart will leap with joy and through my beginner’s strum I’ll praise the Lord.

A version of this article was originally published in New Zealand Catholic.

QUIZ ANSWERS:

1. The catacombs. 2. The Mona Lisa, the Musee du Louvre in Paris, France. 3. Pasifika. 4. Red, yellow and blue make brown. 5. Kowhaiwhai. 6. Blue. 7. A way of composing an image by splitting the picture into thirds vertically and horizontally in order to draw more attention to a focal point. 8. Photography, design, painting and printmaking. 9. Billy Apple. 10. Colin McCahon.

NGĀ KUPU Ā-KAUPAPA KATORIKA

This new column explores some particular words we use in telling our Christian story: Catholic words / particularibus infimis (jargon/technical terms) / ngā kupu ā-kaupapa (words for a particular project or work). (Prepared in consultation with Hinetapuarau Ioane, of the Chanel Centre, whose te reo Māori advice was invaluable.)

PENTECOST

A transliteration of the Greek word pentekostos, which means “fifty”; its history is linked to the Jewish feast of Shavuot which is celebrated fifty days after Passover. Acts 2 tells of the events several weeks after Christ’s resurrection, during Shavuot, when the Holy Spirit was poured out on the first Christians in what has become known as “the birth of the Church”. The te reo Māori phrase used in our New Zealand missal for Pentecost Sunday is te Rātapu o te Hekenga Iho: Rātapu is “Sunday” and Hekenga Iho is “descent” or “outpouring” - ie, the gift of the Holy Spirit to the Church.

GRIEVOUS

This word, as in “by my most grievous fault” in the I Confess, has only two syllables: although some people pronounce it with three, there’s no “i” between the “v” and the “o”! Grievous comes from the Latin gravis, meaning heavy or severe, from which we get other English words like gravid, meaning pregnant (or in another sense, full of meaning or a specified quality) and grave, meaning serious. The Latin in the liturgy has “maxima culpa” for “most grievous fault”.The Māori translation of the I Confess uses “nā tōku hē rawa” for “my most grievous fault”: nā tōku hē is “my error/fault” and “rawa” is “exceeding” or “especially” - or grievous. (Interestingly, “rawa” is also a noun meaning “the basis of a quarrel or dispute”.)

TE ARANGA / RĒNETI

The Māori words for Easter and Lent. Rēneti is a kupu pōriro or loan word, while aranga as a noun, according to maoridictionary.co.nz, means “rising up, arising, setting out, resurrection”.

COMPANIONING

Similar to the idea of “accompaniment” which Pope Francis speaks about, but perhaps emphasising a more active or intentional nuance. To companion a person or group, as an individual Catholic or as a parish or other community, is to walk with them, together on a journey: sharing what we have, inspiring each other, learning from each other and from Christ and his Church. A companion can lead another person into the riches of the faith. A Māori word for this could be “whakahoahoa” which has the sense of going out with the intention to make friends, to sit down with someone, to laugh and cry together, to walk with each other.

GRACE

From the late 12th century, the word grace means, as the Catechism of the Catholic Church puts it, “favour, the free and underserved help that God gives us to respond to his call to become children of God”; it is “a participation in the life of God”. The website etymonline.com says it comes from the Old French word grace meaning “pardon, divine grace, mercy; favor, thanks; elegance, virtue” ; from Latin gratia meaning “favor, esteem, regard; pleasing quality, good will, gratitude”; from gratus meaning “pleasing, agreeable”. In the greeting at Mass the word “grace” is translated into te reo Māori as “te mana tapu”, having there something of the sense of sharing in the sacred (tapu) authority, charism, essence, life (mana) of God.

In this issue you’ll see the Hail Mary in te reo Māori - there “grace” is translated as “keratia” which has the sense of grace as virtue, the God-given qualities seen in the character of Mary.

Stowaway

2021, Science Fiction, 1 hr 56 mins R13. Streaming now online.

A three-person mission to Mars risks being foiled by the addition of a surprise fourth passenger. With not enough oxygen supply on board and being too far away from Earth to turn back, it seems that they’ll reach a grim outcome: or is there the possibility of a glimmer of hope?

Stowaway enters into the conversation around life’s purpose through the eyes of each character, but in particular Zoe Stevenson, played by Anna Kendrick. She says, “This is one of those rare opportunities that could truly give my life meaning beyond anything I could imagine.” Ethical questions around the end of life are raised which are worth discussing, such as what determines the value of a life? How would you feel and what would you do if faced with this version of the “trolley dilemma”?

Overall this film is classic science fiction with all the suspense and plenty of unexplained mysteries (and plot holes if one thinks about it too deeply) - all of this part of the appeal of this genre. Recommended.

NB Some mild in-context coarse language is used infrequently in the film.

Online With Saints

by Fr Michel Remery. (Catholic Truth Society, 2020)

A modern take on the traditional “Saints Book for Children” genre, this attractive book is an excellent resource for telling the stories of over 100 of our heroes. Each double-page opening gives a short biography and a contemporary image of a saint alongside a question like “Is my confession really secret?” or ‘Should we be involved in social media?” or “Is prayer a waste of time?” followed by a thoughtful answer which includes context and a challenge to imitate the saint; sitting alongside this is a prayer, an extract from the saint’s writings or another relevant text and a short summary to conclude. My sevenyear-old’s review: “Really great. Lots of interesting saints”; it should be noted that some of the topics are probably more suited for teenagers and younger readers will need a parent’s or caregiver’s guidance. I didn’t make use of the accompanying app so I can’t review that, but the book on its own is highly recommended.

The Church Year for Children

by Pia Behl and illustrated by Katrina Lange. (Catholic Truth Society, 2020)

An excellent resource for families wanting to make the rhythms of the Church’s liturgical year part of their family way of life. It follows the year from Advent to Christ the King and lays out interesting facts, prayers, recipes and craft ideas, with attractive illustrations. The northern hemisphere seasonal references are a little jarring, but that’s not really an issue: it’s a chance for secondary discussions about other interesting topics. My nine-yearold’s review: “It’s got something for everything. You can read it and learn about Christmas and Easter and things.” Using this book alongside other books that go deeper would make for a very good approach to teaching your kids about the riches of our faith and how to celebrate them. Highly recommended.