When Ken Peplowski died on Feb. 2, the last day of The Jazz Cruise, I was asked to write a remembrance for Jazz Notes, the Signature Cruise Experiences newsletter that goes out to a 80K+ list of jazz fans.
After getting the news at around 8:30 pm that night, I sat in the Children’s Playroom, a room adjacent to the Sky Lounge that was used by the musicians for rehearsals during the cruise. It was indeed their own playroom. Amongst the instruments and equipment there, and fortified by at least three glasses of wine, I wrote a piece paying tribute to Ken.
At around 11 pm or so, I walked down to the Martini Bar, the late-night hang for musicians and fans. I found Kurt Elling there holding court and pulled him away from his friends and fans to ask him to look at what I had written. As is his nature, he took the assignment very seriously, sitting at the bar with an over-active pencil and the look of a New Yorker proofreader. He spent 20 minutes or so giving me his very detailed notes. I didn’t use all of his corrections, but plenty enough of them to give him credit here, not that a guy playing a Greek god (Hermes) in the hit musical “Hadestown” on Broadway to SRO audiences needs any boost. But every writer needs a good editor and Kurt was the nearest one at hand that night.
Below is my revision of what I wrote for The Jazz Cruise audience. I hope you enjoy it.
Photo of Ken Peplowski by johnabbottphoto
Since 2018, I’ve worked as the jazz consultant for the jazz cruise programs produced by Signature Cruise Experiences, run by Michael Lazaroff. That role has enabled me in the ensuing years to go on The Jazz Cruise (as well as other sailings) and do interviews, host listening parties, present Jazz on Film sessions and emcee various shows. Nice work if you can get it. And I got it. Don’t you dare take that away from me.
Many of my close friendships with artists have come out of those cruises. I’ll write about that later, but one of my most prized relationships with musicians on The Jazz Cruise was with Ken Peplowski, the very underrated clarinetist and saxophonist. We bonded very quickly, I think first based on humor but then on our mutual love of jazz history. Ken was an easy guy to like. And when you got to know him, an easy guy to love. Over the last decade or so, I did many interviews with him for stories, in part because most jazz journalists weren’t much interested in mainstream or straight-ahead artists. But Ken was a great interview, both perceptive and witty.
This past week, Ken was with me and so many of his close friends and colleagues on The Jazz Cruise. He performed in various configurations with all sorts of different players. Ken and I did two “LEARN” sessions on the ship. One was a Jazz on Film thing on Zoot Sims that I presented with Ken and his friend John Pizzarelli as panelists, very much upon Ken’s suggestion. The other was a Listening Party during which I simply hit the play button while Ken talked about his music.
On the afternoon of the final day of The Jazz Cruise, after performing the night before with his close clarinet colleagues Anat Cohen and Paquito D’Rivera, Ken died suddenly. He was 66. The cause of his death has yet to be determined. Since 2021, Ken had been suffering from multiple myeloma. He battled the often-fatal disease with a unique combination of courage, fortitude and humor. After all, humor was just one of Ken’s many remarkable gifts. He was without question the quickest and sharpest wit amongst all of the artists on The Jazz Cruise. Ken always brought joy to every gig or occasion. No one came away from a conversation with him without a laugh or smile. His humor was both incisive and self-deprecating. He would as easily make fun of you as he would himself. A truly rare combination.
Ken earned the respect of his fellow musicians because of his dedication to the craft. As a musician, his virtuosity on the clarinet may have only been surpassed in his time by his close friends Anat Cohen and Paquito D’Rivera. Though both would argue that point, it was fitting that his last days were spent playing with those two. This photo by John Abbott shows their love for Ken.
Photo of Anat Cohen, Paquito D’Rivera and Ken Peplowski by johnabbottphoto
Ken, who worked with Benny Goodman, said that the legendary clarinetist and Artie Shaw had a huge rivalry. “Those days are gone now, because we realize there’s few enough of us, so we need to support each other and just get up there and have fun.” Indeed, when I introduced him for one performance during this sailing of The Jazz Cruise, I said that we had the three greatest clarinetists of our time onboard. He said, “Well, we have Anat and Paquito, so who’s the third one?” Ken was kidding about his stature, of course. My retort back was that we had found the third clarinetist in the passenger jam that happens every day on that sailing. But that was a comeback that Ken told me not to repeat because he didn’t want to diminish the efforts of amateur practitioners.
Ken was also a remarkable tenor saxophonist, with a soft and fluid sound that was influenced by Zoot Sims, Stan Getz, Ben Webster and many other tenor greats. “For me, I spend most of my time practicing on clarinet, because that’s the more unforgiving instrument,” Ken told me. “The technique transfers over to the saxophone. When I pick the saxophone up, it’s all about reminding myself of what I want it to sound like. I’m not saying I achieved this, but my goal for sound on tenor would be people like Ben Webster and Zoot Sims.” Ken reached that goal, as well documented on the more than 50 recordings he released as a leader on various jazz labels. Buy them. Stream them. Listen to them. You won’t be disappointed.
During that Listening Party on The Jazz Cruise this week, he spotlighted his most recent album, Unheard Bird. He was so proud of what he had produced with the previously unreleased arrangements for saxophone and strings that Charlie Parker had commissioned before his untimely death in 1955. Every August during the last few years, Ken presented material from that project at Birdland, a venue which he would return to year after year. Gianni Valenti, Birdland’s owner and impresario, was aboard the ship during Ken’s passing and was as devastated by the news as us all.
Ken was also an amateur musicologist, with a vast knowledge not only of jazz history, but also of non-jazz genres. He may have been one of the most knowledgeable Beatles fans that you could meet. He could tell you just about anything from their seminal recordings. If you were good friends with him, you could receive various bootleg recordings from those golden years. Who woulda thunk that a guy so associated with mainstream jazz had that in his quiver?
In the coming days, weeks, months and years, you will hear tributes galore to Ken’s musical genius and personal qualities. For myself, I considered Ken a good friend, someone with whom I could pick up the phone and talk to for an hour or so about life, music, politics, sports, comedy, literature, film… Well, you get the idea. He was a friend to me, but he was a friend to many people. That was clear when he went public with his illness and the jazz community, including fans and fellow musicians, who all came forward during his time of need with support (both economic and emotional). It was the least that we could do for someone who gave us so much joy for so long.
Let us all remember Ken with a laugh and a smile.
Sad news. I’m so sorry for your loss. And ours.
Beautiful tribute. I’m so glad I got to hear the listening session you did with him on the cruise. From the many, many tributes I’ve read in the last few days, it seems that he was as warm, funny, and genuine a person as he appeared to those of us who didn’t know him personally but were lucky enough to have heard him play and see him perform. At the end of the day, the outpouring of tributes to him as a musician and, almost more importantly, as a person is a wonderful legacy. He will be missed.