Saturday, March 26, 2022

Lilred makes her debut






On Tuesday January 11, I finished my third ukulele. This is the one made from Manitoba maple and a cedar fence board I bought at Lowe’s. It was a bit of a pain to make. The Manitoba maple is punky beyond belief and there is quite a bit of superglue holding the wood together. Still, I’m very happy with the instrument. This little instrument is full of surprises. It’s a soprano, one size smaller than the other two ukuleles I’ve made. I thought it would be difficult to get my fingers squished onto the proper frets but it isn’t. I can stretch from the first to the seventh fret without difficulty and I don’t have trouble fitting my fingers onto the small frets near the sound hole. I thought it might have a quiet, subtle, voice but it’s a loud little sucker for its size. It’s easy and fun to play. There are a couple of ‘faces’ on the back of the instrument. It seems to be saying, ‘Hello, I may be small but don’t underestimate me. There’s more than enough spunk in this little package.’ Neither of my other instruments has a name but this one got the name Lilred early on in the process, mostly because of the rich red areas of the wood. Lilred continues to surprise me.

When I realized that the Calgary Retired Teachers’ Art Show was going to take place this year, I decided, just for a laugh, to list my first ukulele for sale. I didn’t expect that anyone would actually buy it and no one did. I also brought Lilred with me to show it to some friends who have been following the progress of the build on Facebook. When I walked in, on the day of the show, carrying a ukulele case, one of the organizers asked me if I would be willing to play a bit. I mumbled that I had just brought it to show friends. Then when a second person asked me I conceded that I might play if I didn’t disturb people and if I could do it in the background. I can play for hours on my own and the minute I know someone is listening I get fumble-fingered. Those years of teaching, those years of drama training, those years of singing? They have no transfer!

I found a corner close to my display table and started plunking away. The first person who spoke to me said that he had heard a sound and kept trying to answer his cell phone. He didn’t seem upset about it and I was glad of that. I played “Side by Side” while he wandered among the paintings. He came back and told me that song reminded him of looking out from his balcony in Victoria when he was in his teens. He said it brought back memories of the sea.

A while later I was part way through Stan Rogers’ ‘Northwest Passage’ when another person approached. She waited until I was finished and then told me of a book she had just finished. I think the title was Erebus. In the book there were references to Rogers’ song and it was in her head for the duration of the book. She said she went between thinking the book was wonderful and wondering how she could possibly keep reading it. In the end it was worth it. We chatted a bit before she thanked me and continued to move among the easels.

One of my favourites to play is ‘The Log Driver’s Waltz’ and I tend to settle into it when I can’t think of anything else to play. I was playing it when I noticed a woman coming down the row of paintings towards me. She was dancing to the music. Her eyes smiled over her mask. I smiled back as she danced down the next row of paintings.



Things were pretty slow when, around noon, I took my turn at the wrapping table. I took a moment to fetch Lilred and began to play. The guy who had first asked me to play was working on the cash. I played a song and gave him the ukulele to examine. He was amazed at the rich reds of the Manitoba maple and after I played a couple of other songs, he commented on how lovely the little instrument sounded.

One of the women working in the same area told me that her mother had a ukulele that would now have been over 100 years old. She said the only thing she wanted from the her mother’s estate was that ukulele but she didn’t know what happened to it. She said growing up she dismissed the little instrument as not being cool and hadn’t paid much attention to it. Then she realized how much she associated the instrument with her mother.

After my stint at the wrapping table, I returned to my corner and played a bit more. Many people smiled as they passed and some of them stopped to say thank you. Some said they appreciated the atmosphere the music created and that they found it calming. My playing is not sophisticated and I made lots of mistakes but music has the ability to reach through imperfect performances to spark memories and to elicit smiles. What a wonderful thing that is.


1 comment:

Liz said...

music binds up doesn't it. lovely storry dear