Pendarvis Harshaw
Jul 9, 2025
The banjo is almost as symbolic of U.S. culture as the Washington Monument, and, just like the obelisk, it was created by people from the African continent.
That history is what Hannah Mayree, co-founder of The Black Banjo Reclamation Project, wants people to know. So this Sunday, July 13, at 924 Gilman in Berkeley, they’re hosting a Banjo Reclamation Showcase.
The banjo is almost as symbolic of U.S. culture as the Washington Monument, and, just like the obelisk, it was created by people from the African continent.
That history is what Hannah Mayree, co-founder of The Black Banjo Reclamation Project, wants people to know. So this Sunday, July 13, at 924 Gilman in Berkeley, they’re hosting a Banjo Reclamation Showcase.
The event celebrates five years of banjo-making workshops in the Bay Area and around the nation. In that time, The Black Banjo Reclamation Project has gotten refurbished instruments into people’s hands while providing historical context to those who want to learn the art.
Sunday’s showcase will feature live performances, local food vendors and conversations about the instrument’s history. It caps off a week of cultural immersion, which includes a more intimate gathering on Friday evening at Couch Date in downtown Oakland.
Mayree, who has deep family roots in the Bay Area, says this work to highlight the banjo is about music, history and culture, as well as skilled labor.
A young Mayree first picked up the banjo after the Carolina Chocolate Drops won a Grammy for their 2010 album, Genuine Negro Jig, thrusting Black banjo players into popular discourse.
In the years since, former Chocolate Drops member Súle Greg Wilson worked alongside Mayree with The Black Banjo Reclamation Project. (In 2024, the band’s founder, Rhiannon Giddens, helped usher the instrument into pop culture once again when she played on Beyoncé’s hit “Texas Hold ’Em.” Next week Giddens is set to perform in Santa Rosa, Mayree will open for her. )
Mayree has spent a decade-and-a-half touring, busking and performing at large venues. Often they find themselves having to explain a simple fact: “Not only do Black people play the banjo,” says Mayree, “but it comes from Black people.”
They wondered why this wasn’t common knowledge. Then they thought about representation, and who’s most often depicted playing the instrument. “I’m looking around,” says Mayree, “and I’m just seeing a lot of white people playing the banjo.”
But Mayree knew it was more of an issue of access than interest. So in late 2018 they launched The Banjo Brokerage, a program that invites people to donate used banjos so they can be repaired and re-homed to Black folks who want to learn how to play.
Subsequently, they co-founded The Black Banjo Reclamation Project, which allows people the opportunity to craft their own instruments. And not just regular banjos, but gourd banjos as well.
Mayree grew interested in the gourd banjo because the handcrafted instrument has a unique sound. Made from raw materials, it allows musicians to forge a true connection to the earth.
“These gourds are heritage plants that have been used in Black culture, and African culture for thousands of years,” says Mayree, adding that the rare design adds a layer of difficulty.
But for the purposes of the workshops, the gourds are harvested in Arizona, paired with wood sourced from Northern California, pre-fabricated and put into user-friendly packages so attendees can learn how to craft their own banjos.
The hope, Mayree says, is that person might even be inspired to seek a career in building and repairing other instruments.
“There are very few Black people who are in the profession of lutherie,” they say while discussing the craft of building and repairing string instruments.
Being a luthier is quality skilled labor. While their organization is all about sharing music and celebrating heritage, they’re also focused on the development of employable skills.
“American music, quote-unquote,” Mayree says, “is something that Black people are responsible for, so that’s why this became an initiative and a campaign to bring these skills back into the Black community.”
They add, “that way we’re not just asking white people for these banjo reparations. We’re actually using self-determination to create the solution.”
After setbacks during the COVID-19 pandemic, The Black Banjo Reclamation Project has steadily been building momentum.
Working with community since the start, the group has held gatherings at the Alena Museum, as well as potlucks at Oakland’s EastSide Arts Alliance and events at the adjacent Bandung Books.
They’ve done workshops in Chicago, Nashville and Port Townsend, Washington. Last year they received a grant from the Alliance for California Traditional Arts, and they currently offer monthly banjo workshops at The Freight in Berkeley.
Doing this work in the Bay Area is extremely important for Mayree. “My mom was born here,” they say, adding that their grandmother came to the Bay Area from Florida during the Great Migration. “I no longer live here,” adds Mayree, “but it was really important for us to bring this program back to the Bay Area.”
Referring to banjo music, craftsmanship, history and culture, Mayree says, “This is what we’re known for, around the country and around the world. And so, it was just really important to bring that back here.”
The Black Banjo Reclamation Project’s Banjo Showcase is July 13 at 924 Gilman in Berkeley. Tickets and details here.