The Brooklyn Rail

In the wake of losing a spectacular human like Richard Foreman, it is fortunate that the greatness of his prolific body of work was recognized while he was still alive. He viewed his theater as “one continuous river” because his shows were his practice, not his trophies. He embarked on disciplined artistic and intellectual questioning throughout his life.

Foreman shaped his plays by asking his performers to act out his ideas. “What if we tried this?” was the hallmark of his rehearsal process. He experimented exhaustively with combinations of sound, lights, props, costumes, blocking, and characters—happy to dwell in ambiguity. Foreman’s inquisitiveness was answered by his keen observation of everything that went on in the rehearsal space. For instance, he recognized the qualities of the performers and what they might bring to the piece. His trial-and-error fashion of rehearsing meant a willingness to fail and a confidence in grasping what was right. He questioned and revised until every moment on stage embodied multifaceted meanings.

It was an incomparable experience to sit and listen as Foreman spoke at length during breaks in rehearsal. “The level of his erudition was just insane to me. He seemed to have read and deeply absorbed and analyzed nearly every religious and philosophical thinker in the world,” (Colleen Werthmann). He would say, “. . . remarkably hilarious or provocative or profound or bizarre things, and he was spellbinding” (T. Ryder Smith). Foreman was a captivating storyteller and invited interjections. It was refreshing to hear a figure of authority speak with such openness and engagement with the ideas of his cast and crew.

Foreman questioned society, groupthink, mainstream theater, and technology’s pervasiveness, to name but a few. For instance, I asked Foreman why he thought many theatergoers visiting New York stick to Broadway instead of looking for downtown theater. He didn’t blame them. He said important art was tough for people to digest because if they live by mainstream values and a work of art tells them those values are wrong—what would they do with that information? He could see both perspectives: the value and the threat of art as a reflection of life.

Many of us who had the pleasure of working with him considered it a wildly worthwhile opportunity. I was so taken by performing in one of his shows over twenty years ago, that I sought to document the reflections of others who had worked with him. Nearly forty theater artists contributed their stories, which I curated into a book, I’ve Got the Shakes: Performing Richard Foreman. I asked Foreman’s actors and collaborators about their experience as spectators at Foreman’s shows, the casting, and the iterative way of working. There are sections dedicated to the uniqueness of working with the Ontological-Hysteric Theater (the name of his company), Foreman’s influence, and our appreciation about the experience. The book is accessible to readers who don’t know Foreman’s work, so that aspiring auteurs can take it and run with it.

Foreman allowed me to interview him every couple of years from 2015 to 2022 for the book. He told me he thought books about his work would be the best way his theater contributions would be passed down. Last year, he recommended potential endorsers, helped me make contacts, and even suggested book titles. I was just one of so many people he helped in a myriad of ways over the years.

Many people went to great lengths to be at the Foreman reunion, with the man himself, in October 2024 at New York University’s Skirball theater. Seeing Foreman in rare form, or, more accurately, typical form, acting aloof and making jokes on stage, was not to be missed. For the “Foreman family” to come together only months before his passing was unforgettable. Thanks to Helen Shaw’s lineup of speakers and video show clips, we all received a three-hour dose of bona fide Foreman celebration, for which we are deeply grateful. Let’s keep celebrating!