FRANKIE KENNEDY - R.I.P.

WRITING ABOUT death is never easy, but trying to find the appropriate words to mark the sad passing of Frankie Kennedy is, for me, particularly difficult.

I first met him some fifteen or so years ago in Gaoth Dobhair, during a particularly frenetic visit to the Donegal Gaeltacht and was immediately struck by both his sharp sense of humour and his concern for the comfort and well-being of those in attendance at the gathering (as I remember, a party in Francie Mooney’s house). It came as no surprise in later conversation with him, to find that he was a school teacher for such qualities, often wanting, are on occasion known to stand members of that profession in very good stead.

For Frankie, it seemed that the words ‘life’ and ‘music’ were virtually interchangeable. I have no hesitation in saying that it was the vibrancy of his presence and playing which always gave the edge to an Altan performance as they developed from neophytes into one of the most accomplished roots outfits on Planet Earth. Under his watchful guidance, the band had grown enormously before breaking through dramatically with the superb Red Crow album. They built up an exceptionally loyal following at home and abroad, and began to feature strongly in World Music Charts across the globe and to scoop plaudits and awards wherever they went with Red Crow and then Honest Storm and their most recent album, Island Angel.

Frankie had been sick for a long time, hit by a cancer that would finally drive the life from him. Nevertheless, his return to active service at Ballyshannon in 1992 was the occasion for one of the most spontaneous outpourings of love and joy it has ever been my pleasure to witness.

To his partner, Mairéad Ní Mhaonaigh, who was his constant companion in laughter and sorrow, his family and friends, his fellow musicians in Altan, and all who knew him, my own heartfelt sympathy is extended. Writing these words shows clearly how language can occasionally be deficient, but, Frankie, rest easily in the knowledge that you were greatly loved. I will miss you more than I can say.

• Oliver P. Sweeney