Fresh Air - Mardi Gras With New Orleans Jazz Clarinetist Doreen Ketchens

Episode Date: March 4, 2025

Known as "Lady Louie," Doreen Ketchens has been a fixture of the French Quarter for nearly four decades. We talk about her classical training and her career as a street performer, and she'll play some music.Learn more about sponsor message choices: podcastchoices.com/adchoicesNPR Privacy Policy

This is Fresh Air, I'm Tonya Mosley. And if you're ever in the French Quarter in New Orleans, chances are you've spotted my guest today, clarinetist and vocalist Doreen Ketchens. For over 30 years, she's performed on the corner of Royal and St. Peter Street, four days a week, sometimes 12 hours a day, with her band, Doreen's Jazz New Orleans. Doreen Ketchens has many nicknames. Lady Louie, Queen clarinet, and Miss Satchmo, nods to her passionate performances of Dixieland and traditional jazz, and for her ability to hit

and hold high notes for long periods of time, like the great trumpeteer Louis Armstrong. Ketchens has performed for four U.S. presidents, Bill Clinton, George H.W. Bush, Ronald Reagan, and Jimmy Carter. And initially, she played classical clarinet before her late husband, Lawrence Ketchens, introduced her to jazz while the two were students at Loyola University. Lawrence was an accomplished musician in his own right, too. As part of Doreen's band, he played the tuba, valve trombone, drums, and piano, becoming a major attraction for his ability to play the sousaphone and drums at the same time. A few years ago, Ketchens fulfilled her dream of performing at the Kennedy Center.

She's also played with orchestras around the world. Doreen Ketchens, welcome to Fresh Air. Thanks for having me. I want to offer my sincerest condolences on the loss of your husband, Lawrence, who just died this past January. And I had the pleasure of going down the rabbit hole of watching your performances.

And aside from being utterly captivated, I was also just taken by what felt like magic watching the two of you performing together. Are you still performing? Yep. I mean, I don't want to get haunted for the rest of my life, you know. That's what you do. You still always tell me, you know, you got to play no matter what. So that's what

I'm doing. And it's working. It's working. I get strength from just thinking about the times he's been in the audience, you know, and giving me a nod, you know, one way or the other. It seemed like there was such a great love between the two of you and your love language was the music. You all performed together for many decades and I think maybe a beautiful way to start our conversation is to actually hear a little bit of the two of you. I watched this video of you two performing for the New Orleans Jazz Station, WWOZ.

And there you are playing the clarinet and singing. And Lawrence was playing sousaphone and the drums at the same time. I don't actually think I've ever seen that in my life. I was thinking how. Can I play a little bit of that performance? Yes please. The song is House of the Rising Sun. I'm gonna be a good boy. So do There is a house near all of these And knew all the things they call the Roy'sism

He's been the run of many young lives That was my guest today. Doreen Ketchens and her late husband Lawrence playing House of the Rising Sun. Doreen, what a remarkable performance. I mean, as I mentioned, Lawrence is playing the drums and blowing into that sousaphone, which is a type of tuba, at the same time. How did he figure out that he had that talent? We had drummer problems.

And the drummer didn't show up, and he was tired of it, you know, and we were on the street. He said he wasn't that good anyway, I bet you I could play just as good as him and play the tuba. And so he sat behind the drums and he took one stick in his left hand and he just started to do it. I mean, just like that. It was there.

He can't play rolls and stuff like that, so he does the inflections, you know what I mean? So if you're just listening to the drummer, you know, there's a lot of space in there. But if you're listening to the group, then he fills in all of these spaces that you would normally hear the drummer do. It's just amazing, you know? But Necessity is the mother of invention. And he invented the tuba drummer. One thing I noticed is that you've got a growl that, you know, it's not only present in

your singing voice, but we also heard it while you were playing the clarinet. How do you do that? Like you make your clarinet growl. People have asked me about that growl a lot. So I did it actually, I did some videos on it on YouTube during the pandemic when I was going absolutely crazy because I couldn't go out and play. But there are two ways of doing a growl. There's one with the throat, you know, like that,

like you're gargling. And there's another one with the tongue, like a Spanish R, you know. And both of them basically sound the same when I do them. But you pick one, you know, and I picked the Spanish R because I thought the transition to and from was smoother. So, and that's how I do it. I just, that's how I do it.

That's it. How did you two start playing on the streets of the French Quarter? Well, we were away in Connecticut. We met at Loyola and we had really good scholarships, but the, you know, when you get to be a junior, you know, well, tuition continuously goes up, whereas your scholarship stays the same. So in my junior year, you know, our junior year, we asked for more money and, you know, universities they don't really invest in, you know, student juniors that are already there, you know, and it hurt my feelings so I started applying to different places and

got accepted into a few but the University of Hartford, the Hart School of Music, you know, had the most money. And I didn't realize the cost of living in Hartford was a whole lot more. But it still worked out okay. And I went there and I stayed on campus for the first semester, didn't like it. So I found me a nice apartment off campus for the following semester. And I stayed there and it was good until they stole my car. I stopped in to take a nap and when I came out, there was nothing there. My car was gone. My clarinet was in my car because clarinets were in my car because I was taking a nap. I thought I'd just hop on back. But anyway, they eventually found my car, and they only, they took everything out of there

except the clarinet because the latch on the case came loose, and there were two clarinets in there. And so when they picked it up, all of the pieces just, you know, sprawled all over the trunk. And so they didn't bother, you know, picking them up or nothing. And so my clarinets were intact, which was cool because, you know, that was the biggest thing that was in the car. But once they stole my car, and Lawrence was still here, he was going to Xavier at the time, and he said, man, she can't be out there by herself. She's too far and she's alone.

I got to go. And while we were there, he got us some work with this company called Landerman Agency. They threw parties, corporate events and stuff like that. It was nice that they had this exclusive New Orleans band, so we worked that way. That's how I started practicing, basically, just playing the music. I just played melodies in the beginning, but after a while, I started improvising just a tiny bit. So we're in Connecticut and we're doing pretty good.

And then Lawrence's father dies. And actually, his father was sick and we went down and we got married there because he wanted his father to see him married. I mean, we were going to get married anyway, but we pushed it forward at that point. And then his father died. And a month and a day later, my father died. And well, you don't know, but I'm the youngest of three, and he's the youngest of three. He had two sisters and I had two brothers.

And we were caretakers. We're the ones that took care of our parents and stuff like that. So we didn't want to be so far away. We wanted to try and be here for as long as we could with our mothers, you know, as they transitioned from having partners to not having any at all. And so we came down and we started doing whatever we could, you know, to make ends meet. And we were walking in the French Quarter one day and we saw some people playing on the street and Lauren said, hey look, we could do that. I'm like, man, you must be crazy. I've been to college. I'm

not playing on the street. But love makes you do crazy things. And you know, we went out there and we played and I was OK because we were together. And got a little following. People like this were young, cute, and all that stuff. And the music was pretty good. I mean, three decades. Right. Actually, yeah.

It's approaching four. You know? Yeah. I love watching the videos of you and your band. And I was just thinking about that experience of Seeing basically like a concert these expert musicians In a accessible space when you're out on the street, but was it always so welcoming out there I know it can be like notoriously competitive among musicians jockeying for space when you're a street musician.

Oh yeah. I mean, but sometimes we sleep on the spot. I mean, you do what you have to do. And it was the two of us, so it was easier to fight. So it was kind of set up for victory, you know, as long as we weren't lazy. And, you know, you had to deal with the people who, for some reason, they moved to the French Quarter and weren't quiet. I don't understand that at all. But they called the police. You mean the people who live, yeah, the people who live there. Yeah, man. You know, they said, I don't want to hear that music. And they're like, bruh, you're in the French quarter. What do you expect? And then you got to deal with police who are having a bad

day and stuff. So yeah, it gets kind of challenging, but it's fun. And it was fun creating together, it was fun growing together, it was fun just making music and, you know, making people stop. I mean, because, you know, street chops are different. You know, you go out there and you set up and most people think, you know, you're on drugs or something's wrong with you. And so they pass by you or decide they're going to pass by you, but then you start playing and they stop. And you know, you're on the street, you got to make people stop and listen and then give you money, you know.

We're extremely blessed because, you know, we always seem to find that combination that makes people say, oh my goodness, and they still do it. And it's grand. You know, to watch you perform, you really are. You're like putting your whole body into it. Your eyes are closed. And I mean, I guess that's not unusual, I mean, when you are like intensely

focused on your instrument. I've heard you say when you're playing, you're constantly digging for more information within yourself. And I was like, wow, really taken by that, but also wonder more of what you mean. I mean, just like with anything else, if you're a parent, you want to be a better parent than your parent, even though you had a great parents, you know, but I just don't want to fall into a rut.

People are growing up listening to what I'm doing, what I did, and you know, I want to be above that. It's flattering in some senses, you know, it's insulting because people steal your licks and everything else and they don't acknowledge it, you know. But it's still, you know, you want to stay ahead of the game. You want to be the best. Louis Armstrong is like a big influence on me. And I have listened to what I thought up until the other day actually. I thought I listened to everything that was out there by Louis Armstrong, but there's always something new.

But I can hear the same song over that I've heard for a hundreds of times and find something new inside of it. It's amazing. Is there a favorite Armstrong? I know that's like asking is there a favorite child but is there a favorite song of his that you love or you go back to often? Yeah that is like asking about a child you know I mean because there there's some that strike me in certain ways and others that strike me in others. I mean, when you say that, LaVion Rose comes to mind, and probably because my daughter

hates it. Oh, really? Why? She says. Yeah. But, and then she fell in love and stuff like that, and she understood it and stuff like that. But, La Vie en Rose comes to mind because he had a way of doing things.

Sort of like Nat King Cole. You can hear Nat King Cole singing French in Spanish. He ain't the best French in Spanish, but it's great because he had that respect for it. And you can hear Louis do all kinds of different kinds of music, and still know it's Louis, first note. So I just aspire to just be great. In order to be great, you got to keep aspiring to be great.

Do you have your own take on that favorite, on your favorite Armstrong song? And if so, can you play a little bit of it, not the whole thing, but just a bit? Oh, L'avion Rose? I set myself up for that, didn't I? Let me see. so

so On when you speak, angels sing from above. Every day what it seems to turn into love songs. Give your heart and soul to me, and life will always be long beyond roads. Thank you so much for that. I mean, you're nicknamed all of these names, you know, Lady Louie for a reason. And that's very clear some of the reasons why, but I'm very curious to know when did you first discover yourself in Armstrong? Do you remember when you first heard that within his music yourself? Yeah, I didn't realize it at all. I was just doing what I do. I was just learning songs and playing songs. And somebody asked me, you know, when I was

singing, you know, they said, how do you do that with those words? And I'm like, what are you talking about? And, you know, just, Louis spoke like my dad, you know. And so without realizing it, you know, instead of saying word, I say void, you know, stuff like that, you know, because that's what, you know, I grew up with. You know, you change with society, you know, you go to college and you say, well, that void, and they're like, what the heck are you talking about? You know what I mean? So, but, you know, it always comes back when I do that. And a lot of the melodies, the way he interpreted the melodies and stuff, I really, really,

really liked it. And it appealed to me. So sometimes I start off, I learn a melody right from him. I'll do exactly what he does. But as I play it, as I develop with the song, it becomes me. I change a few things because he played a trumpet and I play a clarinet. He was a much older man. I was a much younger woman. Just other things that come into play that you don't expect, but they do because it's human nature. you know. So, yeah, I didn't realize it.

But once I realized it, I embraced it and just roll with it, you know, and I'm still rolling with it. Our guest today is jazz clarinetist and vocalist Doreen Ketchens. We'll be right back after a short break. I'm Tonya Mosley, and this is Fresh Air. If you're a super fan of Fresh Air with Terry Gross, we have exciting news. WHYY has launched a Fresh Air Society, a leadership group dedicated to ensuring Fresh Air's legacy. For over 50 years, this program has brought you fascinating interviews with favorite authors,

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Doreen, you're a fixture in the French Quarter of New Orleans, but tell us a little bit more about the area that you grew up in. I grew up in the Treme, and yeah, a lot of people are familiar with that neighborhood because of the TV series. And I grew up in a house that I was christened in, actually. It used to be a church. It was a church, and I was christened in that very house. And then it became a whole bunch of other things. But, yep, right in the middle. And my parents had a sweet shop and named it after me. Yeah. Yeah.

And that's a whole other New Orleans traditional story in itself. Like naming stores and things after each other or... Oh, no. See, I went to a nursery school called Marietta Boddary. And like any other institution, people need to raise money. And so we have these innovative ways of raising money here in New Orleans, you know. I mean, you could sell things like world's finest chocolate, which everybody knew mama has at least tried once, and oranges, jams, and other candies.

But I wanted to be queen of my nursery school. And every year they would have a fundraiser, which would be a Mardi Gras ball. And that Mardi Gras ball, you get to dress up, you know, and walk down the aisle. And, you know, there's a king and there's a queen in their court. And, you know, I just thought it was the coolest little thing. I went there two years in a row. But, so it came time to raise the money. And what you do is you do things. So my mom, she decided to sell candy from the front room, you know.

So she'd go and buy some wholesale candy. And, you know, we were right down the street from the school. So naturally, kids would come and get on the doorstep and buy candy. Danielle Pletka You had to be pretty popular. Danielle Pletka Yeah. Yeah. Learn how to fight too. But so, she was pretty good, sell candy and cookies and stuff like that and raised some pretty good money and turned it in. But when we turned it in, I wasn't queen. I didn't have enough money to be queen. I was third maid. And it

was cool. I got to wear this big, beautiful yellow dress, but I wasn't queen. When the queen walked up the aisle, I was like, man, look at her, man, I could be Queen. So we started early that next year, you know, of course, they never stopped coming to the door anyway. And by the time it was time to turn in the money, we had a whole lot more money than we had the year before. But it was my last year there, you know, I had basically aged out. So my mom, you know, she explained that to me.

I was four and she said, now, you know, I know you want to be queen, but we could do, you know, one of two things. We could take all of this money and turn it in and you can be queen. You walked down that aisle as queen." I'm like, yeah. She said, or we could take half the money and you probably won't be Queen, but you could still walk down the aisle and you'll have some money saved. You know, you start saving money and you know, you grow up you have more. I was four so what I wanted to do was take all the money and even add some more and be queen. I mean I just did you know. But I looked at my mom and I know what I was supposed to say even though I was four. I

knew what I was supposed to say. So I said, okay, we'll do that. And that's what we did. And I still wound up being first made. But I was okay with it because when the Queen walked out on the aisle this time, I'm like, yeah, I gave you that. But the kids kept coming to the door, you know, and there was a barbershop next door run by two twins. And they closed up and, you know, my dad got the bright idea of, hey, people come to the door anyway, you can come to the shop, you know. So he inquired about, you know, renting a shop and got it. And we lived next door and we had a sweet shop right there.

And my mom started started and that's why they named it Doreen's Sweet Shop because it always you know brought upon by me wanting to be queen. Right. I mean what kinds of stuff did you all sell that you sold all the kinds of sweets that were a part of that contest but what did what did the kids come there for? Oh I mean sugar. Yeah. Sugar. That's what they come there for? I mean, sugar. Yeah. Sugar.

That's what they came there for. Cookies with sugar, candies with sugar, drinks with sugar. On the way to school, my mom would get up early anyway and she'd be open and she'd open all day long and close at about nine o'clock at night. She would be in there because my dad, he worked for the park service, so he had a nine to five. But she was okay with it because it was hers, and she was home and my mom would cook three meals a day every single day and run the shop. I don't do that now. I mean, you know what I'm saying?

Yeah, I was really popular because my parents had because my parents had a sweet child, of course. You know, you get the negative influences too. You know, people tell you, you better bring me some candy or I'm going to beat you up. But it ain't going to happen. Were you helping your mom make the candy too? No, no, no. It was, we didn't start making stuff until I got to like college. But before then, it was just, you know, just buying things wholesale, like chips and, you

know, candies and cookies and stuff like that. And they'd come, you know, I was made to work in the store and didn't really like it that much, you know, so, typical kid, you know. Please tell the story of how the clarinet became your instrument because it's an infamous story that you tell that you started playing to get out of a pop quiz in elementary school. Yeah, it was amazing. We were at my favorite subject which was lunch. And there was a talk of a pop quiz and it's like, they said we're going to have a pop

quiz when we go back. And I'm like, we ain't never had no pop quiz. You know? Well, of course, we got back up and there was a pop quiz and I got the stink eye from so many people, you know? But the quiz was such, because there was like 30 kids in the classroom, and he'd go down the line, he'd ask one question, and if you got it right, you passed. If you got it wrong, you failed.

And I looked out the window and I said, Oh God, you get me out of this, I'll do anything. And about two minutes later, the principal came on the loudspeaker and she said, anybody interested in joining the band, report to the band room immediately. And I'm like, oh my goodness gracious. I raised my hand, of course everybody else raised their hand too. But by God's grace he picked me and I was running down the hall and I was so happy, you know, and we went to the band room and, you know, we spent all our time in that classroom. But when I got to the band room it was a huge room and it was beautiful they had music notes and you know pictures of instruments all over the walls and stuff like that and I saw the flute and I was like oh wow look at that

I said I'm gonna play the flute and the band director Mr. Berkelot you know he he started out you know introducing different instruments and saying different things and then he asked, he went row by row asking, what do you want to play? Well, I already knew what I wanted to play because the flute was so sleek and so silver and so beautiful. But the girl in front of me, she said the flute. The girl next to her, she said the flute. And it went on and on about seven to nine times. And by the time he was getting close to me, I was like, well, I don't want to play that now.

It's a pretty common instrument, you know? Right. And the clarinet was right next to it. So I said, I'll play that. And that's what I was playing with the clarinet. Of course, they had about five or six other girls that said clarinet, because they were boy girl instruments and girl instruments, you know.

Right, right. But I was the first one, so I was all right with that. And it worked out pretty good. Let's take a short break. If you're just joining us, my guest is clarinetist and vocalist Doreen Ketchens. We'll continue our conversation after a short break. This is Fresh Air. You're classically trained. When did jazz become your genre? Oh, that Lawrence. We were in college and he knocked on my practice room one day. I went to this performing arts school called NOCA, you know, New Orleans Center for Creative Arts. And I used to practice in this closet, the janitor's closet. And

in the janitor's closet, you could hear the clarinet all through the school. But since it was a performing arts school, nobody complained, you know. And one day, Ellis Marcellus knocked on my door. And he said, Hey, you sound pretty good on that you know you ever thought about playing some jazz? And I'm like no. And he said, well why don't you listen to some jazz clarinetists and see what you think? You know like okay and Ellis Marcellus always did intimidate me you know. And for those who don't know I mean he's a legend but he's a was an acclaimed pianist and educator and his sons of course are legends in jazz too. Yeah so you know I was like he said,

well why don't you take a listen and you know let me know what you think and I'm like okay. And see I wasn't enthused because that's homework you know. In addition to everything else I had to do now I got to go to the library because, you know, you can't just take out your phone and go and look for, you know, I got to go to the library, I got to check this out and all this other stuff. But I did because I knew he was coming back, you know, and I listened and I heard a lot of clarinetists, you know, George Lewis, you know, Pete Fountain and, you know, Benny Goodman, Artie Shaw. And I respected what they did, but we were different. You know, I was concentrating more on tone and technique

and they were more concentrated on jamming, you know, bending the notes and not really concerned about tone and stuff like that, you know. So it wasn't my thing. And so, you know, a few days later he he knocked on the door again, and he said, well, what'd you think? And I was like, you know, it's really not my thing. I can appreciate what they're doing, but it's not my thing. And he said, well, you're entitled to your opinion.

And as I tell you that, I can still see him saying that before he closed the door. And I just, I thought the world was gonna end cause I just made Mr. Marcellus angry, you know. He wasn't angry, he was just chilling, you know. And then I went to Loyola. And just to cut the story short, I was practicing in the practice room

and you know, there was a knock on the door and I looked at the door, it was in a cubicle. So you could could you know The doors were glass It's gorgeous Absolutely gorgeous dude was knocking on door And I'm like may I help you and he said almost verbatim I kid you not he said, you know, you sound really good on that clarinet, you know, you ought to try playing some jazz

Okay really good on that clarinet. You know, you ought to try playing some jazz. Okay. So that's how I started playing the jazz. Is it possible for you to play us something to give us an example of the difference between the classical clarinet that you were really into before Lawrence and then what you ultimately came to do? Well, how about just, um, Mary had a little lamb and I'll just give you an idea. Right? So, you know, straight tone, fill the horn up with air and stuff like that.

You know, when you go high. So but when I play jazz, you know, I still consider those qualities, you know, the quality of the tone and the quality of technique and stuff like that. But, you know, guys would do... You know what I mean? Stuff like that, which was great in its own respect, but just not, I mean, it's like taboo for somebody who played classical clarinet. But by the grace of God, I figured out a way to combine the two because I wanted to hang with this tuba player, this gorgeous tuba player. So I go something like... ["Tuba Player"] So, you know.

There's this tradition in New Orleans that's associated with the celebration of the dead or recently departed. I mean, really Mardi Gras is the ultimate celebration of death and renewal. And you grew up seeing these second line parades happen and watching other loved ones and music being such a part of that grieving process. And I'm just thinking about that when I'm thinking about Lawrence and in his legacy. I mean we'd be in that same fifth grade class where I you know we had to pop quiz and a second line would pass by and sometimes

they let us you know take a break and watch them through the window and other times we just had to keep going you know know, while a second line passed. And we had a funeral home, you know, in my neighborhood they had like four or five funeral homes. So there was always a jazz funeral. And I thought we were the only ones in the world that did that. Up until I became an adult and I started doing master classes and workshops, you know, around the world and started studying this stuff. But it's an old African tradition and those Africans were enslaved and they were spread all over the world.

So you can find the celebration from this life to the other through some kind of music and song all over the world. You can find it in Japan, Germany, especially South America. I think we do it the best. We've grown up with being able to express ourselves through music. Even if you didn't play an instrument, you could dance. My dad never played an instrument as far as I know, but he was a member of a social-related pleasure club. And those were the guys that dress up and dance, you know, in front of the band. So when Lawrence and I would come to the living room to learn new songs, my dad knew all the songs. He called the titles to all the songs. So we grew up here. The music is in us, you know, and it's all around us.

You can't avoid it. It's not like in the French quarters where people with a whole lot of money can complain to the police about the music, you know, and the police could come down and actually ask you to stop in the hood, somebody playing music or practicing their trumpet or something like that. You can't call the police,

police not gonna even listen to you, you know? But people don't anyway, you know what I mean? Lawrence used to, his mom used to make him play outside. Go outside with your mama, hear all that. Right, right. So the neighborhood was used to hearing him play and he was used to playing, you know, whether you liked it or not, you know what I mean?

So, yeah. Have you been out in the street performing since he passed? No, I haven't been out in the street yet. I mean, I played his memorial, but it's Mardi Gras, and we wouldn't be out there anyway this time of the year. They're too crazy around Mardi Gras time. And everybody's asking, hey, when you coming out and all that stuff. And I say, oh, the weekend after Mardi Gras. And it'll probably be that.

I'd probably do it. I have to. I mean, in the beginning, when he first passed, I couldn't even listen to our music without breaking down. And I thought about it when I was planning his memorial service. I said, you play all of these funerals and second lines and stuff for strangers and friends, and you're not going to play for your husband.

It doesn't make any sense. So I worked at it and it's a state of mind. I gotta be, I gotta cross, you know, I gotta step to the right or something like that and then I'm okay, and I play. And I can play. They're like, he's here. I mean, I still feel his presence.

I really do, and I thank God for that, because I don't feel alone. And then, our daughter's husband was deployed. So, you know, you could say she just happened to be home, but as God, because she's there and her son's there, and it's just beautiful, you know. And if she hadn't been there, that morning when I woke up and he was gone, I would have been alone in that big

old house. I would have still been alright. I'm still impressed with how I handled everything, but I wasn't alone. They were there. And as God. Doreen, let's take a short break. And if you're joining us, my guest is clarinetist and vocalist Doreen Ketchens.

We'll continue our conversation after a short break. This is Fresh Air. A very high moment that listeners might be familiar with is your performance in 2023 at the Kennedy Center. Ted Koppel and CBS Sunday Morning followed you for that big night. And I want to play a clip of you performing one of your legendary long notes. Let's listen. That was my guest, clarinetist and vocalist Doreen Ketchens, performing at the Kennedy Center in 2023. My God, Doreen. Have you ever, or anyone ever counted how long the amount of time that you can keep a note?

It varies, you know. There was a buggy driver who says, she can hold her breath for two minutes. I don't know about all that. But when I was a kid and I was in junior high school, I used to hold my breath for nickels, you know, and getting, you know, and I made a lot of money, you know, doing it. So I have, you know, it was no problem putting it in the clarinet, matter of fact, but it has to be a high note because they don't take that much wind, you know, it couldn't be a low note, I couldn't possibly do that on a low note, because it takes too much wind.

But with those high notes, sometimes, instead of taking a breath at the end of it, you have to release. Doreen, this has been such a pleasure to talk with you, and I really appreciate you taking the time in the midst of your grief to share your beautiful love story and the beautiful music that the two of you all made together. And I want to end maybe by asking you about this song that is in on your latest CD that was Lawrence's. Can you tell us about it?

Yeah, it's called West Africa and it's absolutely wonderful. It was a joint collaboration, but I just came up with the melody and the words, which came really easily because of what Lawrence established in the piece already. And my daughter and I, we have it on loop, you know, we just play it all day, every day, and it's just absolutely wonderful, you know, and even listening to it, you know, I tear up because so much of him went into it and you can hear it. I mean, I can see him in the studio, you know, because he was supposed to be doing harmonies and he said, you're gonna think I'm crazy, but this is what I'm feeling, and it just went on and it's just beautiful, just beautiful.

Doreen Ketchens, thank you so much. Thank you. That's Doreen Ketchens with her band, Doreen's Jazz New Orleans, from their album, Walking Through the Streets. Tomorrow on Fresh Air, two experts join us to explore the rapid dismantling of diversity, equity and inclusion, commonly known as DEI, across public and private sectors. Once hailed as markers of social progress, conservative critics now portray DEI as emblematic of excessive woke culture. Join us. To keep up with what's on the show and get highlights of our interviews, follow us on Instagram at NPR Fresh Air.

Fresh Air's executive producer is Danny Miller. Our technical director and engineer is Audrey Bentham. Our managing producer is Sam Brigger. Today's senior producer is Teresa Madden. Our interviews and reviews are produced and edited by Phyllis Myers, Roberta Shorrock, Anne-Marie Baldonado, Lauren Krenzel, Monique Nazareth, Thea Challener, Anna Bauman, and Joel Wolfram. Our digital media producer is Molly Sivinesper. Susan Nkundee

directed today's show. With Terry Gross, I'm Tonya Mosley.