A New Zealand musician hopes to put Waitara, Taranaki, on the map for banjo playing after getting international recognition for his skills.
Nicholas “Sol Bear” Coulton has been recognised by banjo royalty and one of the world’s premiere banjo makers – Deering Banjos of California.
The company has named Coulton one of their featured artists and is showcasing his talents on their website.
“There are a couple of big brands around the world for banjo players; one is in Japan, the other is in California. This company took a shining to me,” said Coulton.
“I’ve been approved enough to say, yeah, I’m a banjo player, I’m a professional banjo player.”
Having a Deering ‘tick’ puts Coulton in good company – other featured artists include bluesman Taj Mahal, banjo virtuoso Bela Fleck, and former Mumford & Sons member Winston Marshall.
“It’s very intimidating because they are one of the forefather companies in the world of banjo playing. To be welcomed in by the big boys feels cool,” he beamed.
“My claim to fame is that apart from Keith Urban – Uncle Keith – I’m the first Australasian/Pacific artist to be endorsed by them.”
Mystery musician
What makes it even more remarkable is Coulton didn’t master the banjo the traditional way.
His ‘lessons’, if you can call them that, were from an unknown musician he came across in his local park as a child.
“I used to go walking the dog, and this old fella used to sit there playing the banjo.”
“I’d sit, listen to him, learn a lot from him, without him physically teaching me. Just sitting as a kid watching.”
Each time he went to the park, the old man was there.
“One day, he bought this old banjo. It was a banjo mandolin made in the 1910s, converted into a five-string, and he gave it to me, taught me the basics and [he] pretty much disappeared.”
He never saw the mystery man again, but it sparked a love of banjo that eventually became a profession. Coulton became a member of the Taranaki folk trio Turkey the Bird.
“My brother calls it Wiggles for adults,” he laughed.
“We’ve been labelled as a mash-up between Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young; Simon & Garfunkel; with undertones of Flight of the Conchords – but we aimed to be a very serious folk trio.”
‘Best job ever’
He may not have had any formal training on the instrument, but his place in the group was assured.
“As the only banjo player under 70 in Taranaki, I was automatically in.”
When Coulton’s not on the strings, he’s working as a teacher aide at Waitara Central School.
“It’s the best job ever.”
“The older kids I take for piano, guitar and drum lessons. It’s amazing how quickly they can pick it up. They’re sponges at everything at that age.”
He hopes to eventually pass on a love of banjo, too.
“For me, I’d always been attracted to the odder instruments. Subtle hint: if you want to impress people, play the instrument that no one plays,” he laughed.
Coulton named his first banjo, the one gifted to him, Erin.
“It was around the same time my cousin passed away, so I named it after her.”
Erin’s now getting a well-deserved rest, with Malcolm, his brand-new Deering banjo, taking over.
“One of my favourite uncles, Malcolm, recently passed away, so I named this [new] one Malcolm. Whenever you play, you’re letting that whānau member sing again.”
‘Cheesy little twang’
Coulton admits the banjo isn’t for everyone.
“That cheesy little twang, associated with bluegrass music, go pash your cousin kind-of-thing. People who don’t like banjo will never like banjo,” he said.
But he has no intention of trying to change their minds.
“No, I don’t want those people in the banjo club,” he smiled.
“When I was growing up, Waitara used to be known for horse racing, softball, surfing and Waka Ama.
“It’d be cool if we could become the banjo capital of New Zealand. The next generation could be incredible. I can be the random old man at the stream teaching those kids.”
He believes the banjo-playing mystery man who gifted him a career and a passion has likely passed on.
“This was in the late 90s, and he was pretty old then. He pretty much disappeared. It’s one of those myths and stories. He disappears into the fog or flies away on a broom,” he reflected.
“If you’re looking down watching this: ‘Hi, and thank you.’
“It’s a great story. And the beginning of my story, for sure.”