Technical Studies for the Plectrum Banjo

I have recently begun creating and posting a series of “technical studies” for the plectrum banjo (click on the “Technique” tab). I had originally intended to write a book, but I realized that would be a waste of my time and resources (or at least a misuse of them), because—quite frankly—who would buy it?

My intended audience—young banjoists—cannot afford to buy such things, and I would end up giving them away to them anyway. So why not give them away to everyone via my website, and save the headache of publishing and the stress of trying to sell them? You’re very welcome! I would love it if you would consider taking me on as your teacher in return. . .or maybe consider funding a grant for a deserving young banjoist to take lessons (I know where some are)? If you feel like “paying” me for the material (not necessary, but thank you!), there is a link to my GoFundMe account to the right of this page; every dime will go for the kids in one way or another.

So, what are technical studies? If you have ever played a band or orchestra instrument (or classical guitar for that matter)—especially at the college level—you know what they are; they are those annoying little books of impossible things that your teacher expects you to have perfected before the next lesson! I have half a dozen of them on my bookshelf, just for the clarinet! What they really are, are a test to see just who is truly serious about their instrument; the dropout rate among college music majors is very high, and these impossible expectations are one of the reasons. I take it as a point of pride that I persevered and actually finished my degree.

On the positive side, technical studies are those things that give an accomplished instrumentalist such astounding technique—technique that is required in order to play their instrument really well, and to possibly one day do things that nobody else has ever done before. It saddens me to no end to know that so many great clarinetists, trumpeters, pianists, etc. have given so much of their lives to their instrument, only to be left in the musical shadows by some drugged-up kid who knows three chords on his/her guitar and moans some vulgar, off-key “lyric”—but boy can he/she play loud and get the kids screaming (and spending their parent’s money)! Common college joke: Q: “What’s the most important phrase for a music performance major to learn?” A: “Would you like fries with that?”

So I’m writing a series of technical studies for the plectrum banjo (the tenor already has some; his name is Harry Reser); I believe it is just as “legitimate” as those band and orchestra instruments and deserves the long-overdue attention. Mind you, I will not post anything that is “impossible” to play, but I will write things that are at the ragged edge of my own abilities; if it doesn’t stretch the limits of ability, what good are they? I promise I will never write “just a bunch of empty, meaningless notes”; there will always be a musical reason for them (or I wouldn’t practice them myself). I sincerely believe that my writings will improve along with my playing; both have a long way to go!

I am writing them in standard notation and tablature; the “play-in-a-day” paint-by-number chord diagram “method” popular in the banjo world will not work for these type of exercises. Can’t read music? Well. . .then you should learn to read music, which is a technical study in itself (and an absolute necessity for becoming a complete musician)! Yes, TAB is seen by many as a crutch, but I can honestly say that it has assisted considerably in my own quest to learn to read the standard notation; besides, it shows the intended fingerings.

If you let your lack of reading skills keep you from trying, then I guess you just don’t want it bad enough (contact me—I’ll gladly walk you through the first baby steps). I’m speaking from personal experience here; I let this self-limiting attitude keep me from true advancement for decades.

Now I know the banjo is famous as a “fun,” stress-free instrument; I have no intention of “taking away your fun!” I will say that my own fun has increased as I’ve improved (because I get a kick out of playing well), but if these exercises cause you unwanted stress, don’t do them! I do ask however that you help me to create an “atmosphere of advancement.” You can do this by agreeing with me that the banjo can be played at a higher level, and by holding that higher level out as the ideal—whether you can play that well or not (especially for the young players).

Encouragement is great, but it should be mixed with a bit of reality and “you could do that better!” Kids will be kids once in their life; there is no better time to get truly good at something—or to at least get a solid foundation for the future—than when young and ambitious. They will rise to the level that is presented to them (because they don’t know it’s “hard”).

I grew up in the banjo club world, and am currently playing with the Arizona Banjo Blasters; I know all about “just having fun.” I like to have fun too, but I also have aspirations of going “where no one else has gone before” (or at least in helping someone younger and more-capable than myself do it). If I had been introduced to the concept of “technical studies” as a 12-year-old (and gotten the correct encouragement and guidance from a skilled, progressive teacher), who knows how far I may have gone!

As it is, my introduction to this going-beyond mentality wasn’t until I met and heard Buddy Wachter—at the age of 28. By then, it was a bit too late for me, as I had a family to raise and bills to pay (and hadn’t yet developed this insane desire). I don’t blame the banjo club fun mentality for my squandered childhood potential (but I did at one time); that is entirely on me—but what an effect the correct resources and encouragement may have had on that impressionable young man!

So anyway, enough of my rant; scoff if you will, but I challenge you to at least try them and see if your technique benefits. If they are too “difficult” at first, take them slowly and work your way up (I purposely do not put a suggested speed on them—though you should practice with a metronome to improve your sense of time); that is called improvement. If they are too “easy,” kick me in the rear and tell me how I can make them better; in fact, if you have any exercise suggestions, I will gladly credit you at the time of publication if I use them. Thank you in advance!

I am doing this for the kids, in the hopes that they may someday see the banjo as something more than just a fun, social instrument (though there’s nothing wrong with being a fun, social instrument!). My dream is for someone to say—50 years from now—“boy, those technical studies from Ron Hinkle sure got me going!”