It was at Fritzel’s some years ago during French Quarter Festival or Jazz Fest, I can’t recall exactly but the place was jammed with folks. Sitting near the stage, I was listening to clarinetist Jack Maheu hold court as he did there on the weekends for eight years or so. Brian O’Connell, another clarinetist, joined Maheu for a duet. I can’t remember the tune, but I do remember that O’Connell handled the melody while Maheu used his horn to dance around it. And around it, and around it. So struck by the music that Maheu was coaxing from his instrument, O’Connell, right in the middle of the song, took his horn out of his mouth, looked at Maheu’s fingers effortlessly moving about the keys, and with a kind of amazed expression on his face said “God, why can’t I do that?!” He then, missing a beat or two, returned to the melody. It was uproariously funny. Non-clarinetists are similarly taken by Maheu’s facility and can often be seen mouthing the words, “God, how does he do that?!”

Jack Maheu has been doing that, playing fine classic jazz clarinet, for a long time. “Liquid grace,” says the New York Post, while Downbeat calls his playing “breathtaking.” He’s been around, as they say. Maheu has played smokey dives and concert halls, appeared on television and radio and waxed records too numerous to mention. And now he’s a club owner. In December, he and some associates took over operations of the Dream Palace on Frenchmen Street, and after numerous delays, Jack Maheu’s Tin Roof Cafe is up and running five nights a week. Before you say, “God, why did he do that?,” let’s look at the road he took from jazz clarinetist to jazz clarinetist—slash—club owner, it’s an interesting one.

Born and raised in Plattsburgh, New York, Maheu studied art at Plattsburgh State College and the Pratt Institute before enrolling at Syracuse University to study clarinet. During that time he and trombonist Will Alger formed a jazz group. It was nearly 50 years ago when that band, the Salt City Five, appeared on the “Arthur Godfrey Show,” and with that publicity, hit the road. Soon after they were booked for a two week stand at Child’s Paramount Theater in New York City. The gig lasted four months. “We were offered a six month extension on the contract, but we decided to go on the road again…young and restless, I guess.” The road took them to Bermuda, Montreal and all over the United States. They made a fine recording for the Jubilee label.

Things were going well, but in 1957, while the Salt City Five were performing in Las Vegas, he got an offer to join the New Orleans-bred Assunto Brothers in the Dukes of Dixieland. He took it and stayed for more than two years. During that period the Dukes appeared on the top television shows of the time, hosted by Ed Sullivan and Dave Garroway and Mike Douglas, and recorded a whopping nine albums for Audio Fidelity. In 1958, Maheu was awarded a Key to the City of New Orleans as a “Dixieland Ambassador of Goodwill” (No report as to whether the lock has since been changed).

After a stand in Chicago in March of 1959, Maheu left the Dukes, stayed in the Windy City and put a band in at the Prevue Lounge. During that time he also worked with pioneering New Orleans-born trombonist George Brunis and “West Coast”-styled trumpeter Bob Scobey. In 1960, he joined the band of another jazz pioneer, cornetist Muggsy Spanier, known locally for his composition “Relaxin’ at the Touro,” a tribute to Dr. Alton Ochsner, who saved his life at the infirmary in the late 1930s (Spanier fell ill while in New Orleans as part of the Ben Pollack Orchestra.). Maheu toured with Muggsy for about a year and a half. He left Spanier to re-form, with Will Alger, the Salt City Five (as the Salt City Six) in the fall of 1961. A few years later the Salt City Six was engaged to perform with the Buffalo Symphony Orchestra. To prepare for that date the band put together a program of classics in a jazz setting, including such titles as Rossini’s “William Tell Overture,” Flotow’s “Ach so fromm” from the opera Martha, and Sousa’s march “El Capitan.” The success of that concert resulted in more symphony dates as well as a recording for the Audiophile label, The Salt City Six Plays the Classics (available on Jazzology records, JCD-78). Differences between Alger and Maheu led to a split resulting in two “Salt City” bands touring simultaneously. Maheu’s version, the “Six,” spent the next 15 years making jobs, primarily throughout the Northeast.

In 1978 in need of steady work, he cold-called Eddie Condon’s club in New York City: “My name’s Jack Maheu, I play the clarinet and I’m looking for a gig.” “I don’t know you” was the terse reply, but as the conversation continued two subjects came up. It so happens Bobby Gordon, who had replaced Maheu in the Spanier band, was leaving the club and legendary cornetist Wild Bill Davison was on his way to town for an extended engagement. “I had toured with Bill in the early ’60s and had played with him a lot. I told the manager at Condon’s that he’d give me a recommendation. A few days later I got a call back, they had talked to Bill. I went for a tryout and stayed five and half years. The band had Vic Dickenson, Connie Kay, Ed Polcer, Red Balaban. It was an excellent job and experience. When they called tunes they didn’t care if you knew them. That does marvels for your ear training because the clarinet was the first to go after the ensemble, so I would have one chorus to learn.”

After Condon’s closed in 1985, Maheu hung around New York for a couple of years, had a band in Marco Island, Florida, and for a brief moment returned to his home town of Plattsburgh. After weathering an upstate New York winter, when called to appear at the Sacramento Jazz Festival in early 1990, he told the organizers to book his flight out of California to New Orleans instead of New York. He’s still here.

He began his residency in New Orleans by joining Al Hirt’s band for six months, then moved a trio into the Fairmont Hotel for eight months, then eight years on weekends at Fritzel’s. All the while he was in demand for spot jobs that would total in excess of 30 per month. “The phone would ring, I’d pick it up, write down the date, play the gig and get paid…I had it made.” So why would Jack Maheu open a club?

Jack Maheu’s take over of the Dream Palace has its roots in a jazz fan from the early days of the Salt City Five, Roger DeVore. While visiting New Orleans a few years back, he suggested to Jack that he put together a band, a regular rehearsed band, like in those old days. “It’s too hard,” Jack told him, “because guys have too many outside jobs, you can’t keep it going. The only way I’ll do it, is if I have my own joint.” DeVore took up the challenge of helping Maheu find that “joint,” and after four years, and many machinations, the Tin Roof Cafe was born.

The first thing that strikes you when you enter the revamped Dream Palace is the walls. They contain large photos and photo-montages of early jazz greats, Armstrong and Waller, Pee Wee Russell and Vic Dickinson, Bix and Eddie Condon. The tables feature blow-ups of old 78 record labels, such as a Columbia Mound City Blue Blowers, a Brunswick Gene Krupa and an Okeh of Condon and his Footwarmers. All of these fixtures are circa 1945, from the original Eddie Condon’s Club in New York and give the place a romantic “if these walls could talk” appeal. Much of the renovation work was done by Maheu himself, such as the tiered seating that occupies the former stage location, and the painting of the comfortable color scheme and much else was done by his partner and associate on the project, Carol Gustin. A smart re-orientation of the stage is a winner, as is the piano, a Yamaha C-3 grand.

“I’m not looking to get rich off the place, I’m just looking to make the nut,” Maheu says (pleasing me with his use of olde tyme circus lingo), “and to do that you start by making the music as good as you can, not by thinking ‘How am I gonna make a buck here?’ If you do it right, it’ll pay off.” Although he plans, after getting established, to have a regular and rehearsed seven-piece band as well as guest artists coming in from around the country, presently the evenings begin with a trio, usually John Royen on piano and Dickie Taylor on drums, augmented as the night rolls on by many musicians who come to sit in, such as saxophonist Brian Ogilvie, cornetist Jack Fine (recently spied taking a solo from his table), trumpeters Duke Heitger and Charlie Fardella, bassist Jerry Adams and many more. The crowds are slowly building.

“I’m playing what I want to play, and with a piano that’s in tune, and I’m playing for a boss who doesn’t put TV sets in to compete with the music, because I’m the boss.” Good for him and good for us. Go see, and hear, for yourself. Jack Maheu’s Tin Roof Cafe is open Wednesday through Sunday with music from 9:30 p.m. to 1:30 a.m.