MacPhail
ON AUGUST 31, the Highlands and Islands of Scotland went into mourning for the most charismatic character to emerge from the area in living memory.
As news of the death of Norman MacLean spread, the extent to which he was revered by so many was made clear in the tributes paid.
Born in Glasgow of Tiree and Uist parentage, his multifaceted genius, personality and identity gave him a unique ability to step in and out of various personas effortlessly and be authentic and shine while occupying each one.
As a writer, as a musician, as a singer, as a comic, as an academic, as a mimic, as a linguist and as an actor he excelled and in any one of these spheres he could have carved a successful career.
However, it is the sum of all these talents, topped off with the sparkling charisma of a Hollywood celebrity that made Norman the anomaly he was and which meant he was undoubtedly destined for international success.
Sadly, the success never materialised, because time and time again Norman would, as he said himself, ‘hit the self-destruct button’. His immense talents and attributes were counterbalanced with many tragic flaws, which manifested most clearly in his addiction to alcohol.
It is my own and many others’ firm belief that without this addiction, he would have been a household name throughout the English-speaking world and not just as he was in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland.
Norman’s comedy was an integral part of my teenage years, and listening to his tapes became almost part of our school curriculum such was the extent to which they were played in the common rooms and changing rooms during break times.
Through my early 20s I was lucky to work with Norman, playing at countless gigs with him throughout the country over the course of a few years. When working, he was supremely professional at all times and approached it with the energy of youth, which considering that at this time he was in his early 60s was remarkable.
He was always immaculately dressed, always on time and always performed with total conviction to the show. I realise this sounds unlikely given his reputation, but as with many aspects of his life it was ‘all or nothing’. When he was sober, he was incredible. If he was drinking, he would simply not turn up.
He was a constant source of encouragement during the early years of Skipinnish Records and kindly wrote the cover notes for the first two Skipinnish albums. We subsequently released on CD his comedy recording Fully Wrapped and Standing, which was recorded in the Royal Hotel in Oban and had always been my favourite of all his recorded output.
The last time I worked with Norman was during the Mòd in 2009 when he used the Skipinnish Ceilidh House to perform book readings from his newly-penned and hard-hitting autobiography, The Leper’s Bell. The adulation shown to the man by fans who came to hear him read excerpts was amazing to witness, and he approached these events with the same professionalism that he showed when performing comedy.
Norman lived out his latter years in probably the most fulfilled period of his life. He was writing steadily, was aware of the love that a population and those around him had for him, and seemed to be at peace with his journey – and that is infinitely more important than any amount of international stardom.