At Lawrence's Reunion Convocation on June 21, 2003, David A. Heller, '81, offered these remarks in memory of Miriam Duncan, professor emerita of music, who died May 9, 2003.
Finding the right words to offer in tribute to anyone who has passed away is never an easy task, and in the case of Miriam Duncan it is an enormous responsibility. How do you encapsulate the life and work of this teacher, scholar, artist, and friend who has touched the lives of so many Lawrentians and whose influence will continue to be felt for years to come?
When listing attributes that aptly describe Miriam Duncan, the words “truthful” and “forthright” are at the top of the heap. You could always count on hearing the truth from Professor Duncan. She gave praise when it was truly deserved, but she also spoke her mind when something needed attention, or if a student did not perform to his or her highest potential, or if the student needed further incentive to reach a higher level of expression.
No one could instill the fear of God in a student like Miriam Duncan, when she wore her trademark reading glasses that allowed her to look above the lenses at you or when she would walk silently in the aisles of the chapel, often with her gradebook in hand, looking down at the floor while you were playing or when she would walk over to the organ bench and push the poor student out of the way or when she would beat time with the student by hitting him or her in the back with her fist.
There were so many things that made her teaching unique and worthy of recognition. Her ability to wed scholarship with performance provided an enlightenment to so many of us at an early age that changed forever the way we look at our instrument and its literature. Her teaching embodied the concept of liberal arts education in every way, admonishing a student to go beyond the page to gain a clearer understanding of the composer and to perform with a broad vision of the world and the realization that there is a lot more to life than sitting on an organ bench.
One of the most astounding aspects of Miriam’s teaching was her uncanny sense of psychological intuition. She could read a student like a book, accurately judging his or her strengths and weaknesses, and then mold her instruction accordingly. It was a sixth sense with her — she could ascertain a student’s psyche on any given day by the second measure of a piece, stop your playing, and ask, “What’s wrong?” Countless students spent time in her office pouring out their problems both on and off campus (often in tears). It was at these times that one witnessed the compassionate side of Mother Duncan. She still spoke the truth, but it was with a masterful care and grace that deepened our love and affection for her.
If you could get at the core of what motivated Miriam as an artist and teacher, I think you would discover that it was excellence. Her prodding, pushing, conducting, admonishing, and off-key singing in a lesson had a purpose: to push us to a higher level of excellence in performance. But of far greater importance was her overall concern for her students as human beings. Over and over again she would say, “It is far more important to be a fine human being than a fine musician.” What mattered most to Miriam Duncan was not the quest for success, but rather the search for excellence. She was just as concerned with how her students acted and interacted in the world as she was with our professional work.
Miriam Duncan never stopped teaching; she continued her pedagogical activity long after her “official” retirement from Lawrence in 1985, and she continued to give guidance, both artistic and personal, to many of us long after we left alma mater. Miriam never stopped being a mentor, and she loved to hear from her former students and hear of their joys and sorrows, triumphs and defeats, accomplishments and challenges.
Recognizing her contribution to the organ profession, her worldwide legacy of students, and her nearly 50 years of service and devotion to her beloved Lawrence University and the Conservatory of Music — all of which was accomplished with indefatigable energy — there is no other way to describe the accomplishments of Miriam Clapp Duncan than as a life of excellence.
Requiescat in pace, Mother Duncan! — David A. Heller, ’81, Professor of music and university organist, Trinity University, San Antonio, Texas