Dick Nunnely: 1953- 2010
Richard “Dick” Nunneley
December 26, 1953- October 23, 2010
It is with deep sadness that I report the sudden death of my best friend and colleague, Dick Nunneley. Dick died from a freak accident in his home after entertaining out of town house guests. He was 56.
Those of us who were fortunate enough to know Dick know of his incredible depth and genius far beyond his incredible mandolin and guitar playing. Dick’s style of mandolin playing was completely unique, innovative, and technically perfect. He was influenced not by the usual cast of characters, but by the likes of Benny Goodman, Lionel Hampton, and, believe it or not, Claude Debussy. Dick would take a fiddle tune like Grey Eagle or Drunken Billy Goat, and by the time he was done with it, it was sprinkled with quotes from Debussy, that fit absolutely perfectly and, by the way, were serious finger twisters to play. His musical interests really had no boundaries that I know of. In one band that we were in together, String Theory, he brought in arrangements for everything from a Bach two part invention (He played his part on guitar and taught me the other part on mando.) to Dave Brubeck’s Blue Rondo ala Turk (in 9/8 time, no less). He had already recorded himself playing all the parts and had transcribed it when he came to practice.
In the last 10 years or so, Dick had been playing bluegrass in a band he founded in the Midwest, called American Heifer. He was a total Jimmy Martin fan, and most of what they played was traditional or traditionally inspired music. Dick’s mandolin playing was impeccable, and like no other player I’ve ever heard (and I’ve heard ‘em all). This was actually Dick’s roots. He was a bluegrasser, at heart. In his home state of Oklahoma, he was in a bluegrass group called, “The Sons of the Boutineers” (He named the band). From there along with his pal, Adam Granger, he discovered Django Reinhardt, and Benny Goodman. They formed a group in Minneapolis with bass player Gordie Able called the Eclectic Brothers. They were one of the hottest groups in the twin cities playing Goodman arrangements, Hot Club numbers, and tunes by John Hadley. Dick became an authority on Django, knew all the details of his life, every tune he had recorded, and could play Django’s breaks on the guitar perfectly. Maybe around the same time he discovered Scott Joplin and began to transcribe those rags for stringed instruments.
Many mando players may know Dick or know of him from his co-founding and artistic contribution to the Mando Boys. Dick and Peter Ostroushko co-founded the group around 1984 and asked John Niemann and me to join. Dick and Peter wrote, arranged, and transcribed material that ranged from Bach to Benny Goodman to Scott Joplin (as well as several extraordinary compositions by Dick, like Waltz of the Nighthawks) for a traditional mandolin quartet: 2 mandos, a mandola, and a mandocello. It was a phenomenal body of work and rather ground breaking at the time. Dick played the straight man in the act (Yes, it was an “act”), made us all wear fezes, funny glasses, and take assumed names. On stage Peter played the leader, who spoke multiple languages, none of which were English, and Dick played the translator. It was a ton of fun, and for John and I a serious musical challenge keeping up with these two incredible musicians and trying to figure this stuff out from recordings and transcriptions. Dick would come to rehearsal with an idea for a new tune, but his “idea” had already been done by him. He had recorded all 4 parts (perfectly executed of course) and hand wrote beautiful transcriptions in musical notation and tab. It pushed John and me to our limits as musicians (We had previously played only bluegrass), but we both got much better because of it. This, as it turns out, was a theme throughout Dick’s life. He had amazing musical and intellectual skills, but he also was an inspiring teacher. I don’t know anyone who played with Dick who didn’t become a better player.
His depth went well beyond music as shown by the numerous friends and relationships he had. Dick was a passionate educator. He earned his PhD from the University of Minnesota shortly after the Mando Boys split. From there he went on to the being one of the best professors the graduate education program at the U of M had ever seen. He always felt that the standards for education had been diluted, not by teachers (Teacher development; not teaching firing was his passion) but by the so-called “innovators” whose novelty curricula was more about promoting the theory of the day vs. getting to the point and actually teaching something. His quest led him to be the Executive Director of 2 different charter schools in Minneapolis. After returning to the U of M for another teaching post, he was recruited to be the Dean of Graduate Studies at Morningside College in Sioux City, IA. He had just begun that job around 4 months ago, but already had a plan in place for how to improve the program.
While many of us dabble in certain things (myself included), that word did not exist in Dick’s vocabulary. Over the years he developed many interests, but unlike most people, he devoted his whole being to mastering whatever he took up – and he always did. He discovered golf in the mid 80’s and, as usual, I followed in his footsteps. Practically every time he’d visit, it would involve a round or too, followed of course, by several “malted beverages”, as he called them. While the game was a source of occasional frustration for him (It was one of the few things that defies perfection, which he always had to have), he nevertheless became an incredible player. He became a wine expert, (He always sent me his picks.) had an incredible garden, figured out the perfect way to smoke meat, and was a sports aficionado to name just a few things that come to mind. Everything he did, he did 100%. Anytime he decided to launch a new endeavor, even if it was just losing a few pounds, he researched it and by the time he had executed on it, he had figured out all the intricate details. He was an avid reader and researcher. Of all the Dick Nunneley quotes, the one I like the best (you’d have to know Dick to know this wasn’t a brag), was, “I know all there is to know. And I’ve catalogued it with infinite patience.” He was being a wise guy, but in a way it was true.
Dick strived for perfection in everything, a trait that might have made life difficult for him at times. Some people may say he expected perfection in others as well. I don’t think that’s true. Because he is a teacher by genetic makeup, whenever he saw someone not living up to their potential, I think it frustrated him. When he saw someone trying to get better, regardless of ability, it made him happy.
The amazing thing to me, though, is that someone so talented and gifted could be so generous. He was a warm and caring person, had a fierce sense of fairness, and always was respectful of others’ abilities and shortcomings. He was truly larger than life, a force of nature, and all the other similar descriptions. But to me, he was the best friend I’ll ever have and I’ll miss him every day.
Joe Trimbach
Asheville, NC
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