One of my oldest and closest friends called me today to tell me that our mutual friend, photographer Ken Regan, who she had introduced me to and knew better and longer, had passed. The obit in Rolling Stone said his office still refused to give his age, which seemed typical Ken in many ways. He didn't tell his friends, at least the ones my friend knew and a few I did too, that he had cancer, incurable, though she said when she'd seen him last he didn't look well and brushed it off as the result of a bike accident.
You might not know his name but you've seen his images, the ones he shot. He was famous in the rock'n'roll world and, just a for instance, photographed Dylan's Rolling Thunder road show back in the day. You can see his photos in Sam Sheperd's account of that traveling rock'n'roll circus: ROLLING THUNDER LOGBOOK. And you can google him to find more images.
I knew him as a great conversationalist during dinners we were both guests at and I worked on a short film he produced and his younger lady friend at the time directed. I saw him in Manhattan where his studio was and in The Berkshires where he spent a lot of his time as well, and it was always a delight to be in his company. He had a great upbeat personality no matter the setbacks whether physical or romantic or otherwise, so it was a pleasure to be around him and he will be missed.
But from where I was sitting he seemed to have had a rich and full creative and social life. What more could you ask for besides immortality.
Here's a photo that best captures the way I knew him and will remember him. He's the one in black smiling at photographer Bill Eppridge. Great smile isn't it? To me that was the essence of his personality.