Richard Maag, Furman's longtime professor of cello, lost a dignified
battle with cancer last week. A memorial service at the Daniel Chapel overflowed
with family, friends, students and colleagues. They gathered to celebrate his
gifts of love, music and encouragement.
Dick Maag was a gentleman and a gentle man. A rare combination of strength of
purpose, power of concentration, and self-discipline buoyed by grace and charm,
he was remarkably sensitive and attentive to others. A radiant, generous man,
he loved to laugh; his smile was infectious; his friendship cherished. He won
the love and respect of all who knew him.
Maag had been professor of music at Furman since 1964, where he taught cello
and music education. He was also a 37-year veteran of the Greenville Symphony
Orchestra. Over his career, he served as principal cello in the Greenville,
Colorado Springs, Austin, and San Antonio symphonies. He taught very young cello
students using the Suzuki method and introduced Suzuki Talent Education to South
Carolina.
Born in Arkansas City, Kansas, Maag received a bachelor of arts from the University
of Kansas and master of music and doctor of musical arts degrees from the University
of Texas, where he began his teaching career in the internationally renowned
Texas String Project. He served as a national leader of the American Strings
Teachers Association, and in 1999, he was inducted into the South Carolina Music
Educators Hall of Fame.
Neither flamboyant nor eccentric, Dick Maag was an unpretentious member of a
profession notorious for its prima donnas. He helped puncture our solemnities.
Dick never pontificated; he was as eager to listen as to speak. He displayed
the rare ability to discuss and debate without irritating others. His refreshing
candor was the expression of a soul who did not wish to wound anyone but felt
compelled to speak the truth as he saw it. So apt was he to offer a fresh idea
or insight, to speak some disarming or crystallizing word, that we still feel
the impulse to seek his advice.
Dick Maag manifested an almost holy concern for music and a wholehearted devotion
to teaching. From the beginning, he knew what his calling was, and what he believed
informed his teaching. As a Christian Scientist, he cherished God's healing
power, and his abiding faith made him a healing presence among his students
and colleagues. He helped his students realize that the study of music was something
exalted, a precious privilege for which they should always be thankful. In mediating
between a work of music and the young people eager to perform it, he played
the role of an inviting guide. He encouraged students, teased them, entertained
them, laughed and cried with them.
What most inspired Dick Maag was the achievement of others. He was as supportive
of students and colleagues as he was talented in his own right. When a student
mastered a difficult piece, his cheeks would flush, and his eyes would sparkle
with satisfaction.
We often fail to appreciate the value and rarity of simple encouragement. For
his many students over the years, Dr. Maag was much more than an instructor.
He was an adviser about life itself, a confidant, a friend and an advocate.
Nor did the relationship end with the awarding of a degree. Over the years,
he helped former students nurture their careers and families while bolstering
them to sustain a lifelong commitment to music.
A recent survey reports that Americans fear cancer more than anything. Yet over
the last four months, Dick Maag bore his fatal illness with stoical good cheer.
There was nothing grim or desperate about his final days. Serenity enveloped
him.
Great musicians and teachers never truly die; their influence echoes through
their music and their students. We will remember Dick Maag as much for the person
he was no less than for all that he achieved.