Richard Foreman, the mad alchemist of avant-garde theater, has left the stage—his own stage, as it were. The founder of the Ontological-Hysteric Theater, Foreman, who passed away at 87 in New York City, didn’t just make plays; he detonated them, leaving audiences adrift in surreal landscapes littered with existential fragments and disorienting beauty. His oeuvre of over 50 plays stands as a testament to his singular vision: theater as a “disorientation massage,” a phrase he wielded with the same precision he brought to his jagged lighting cues and staccato soundscapes.

Born Edward L. Friedman in 1937 and adopted by a Scarsdale couple, Foreman’s life seemed destined for quiet suburban normalcy—until it wasn’t. A shy boy with a voracious curiosity, he stumbled upon the operettas of Gilbert & Sullivan at nine, an early seed of his obsession with performance. Later, while traversing midtown Manhattan as a teen, he found Broadway’s glitter and pandering a grotesque foil to his own burgeoning aesthetic, one shaped by the likes of Brecht, Gertrude Stein, and Jonas Mekas.

Foreman wasn’t just a playwright; he was a one-man orchestra, directing, designing, and narrating his works. His plays—think My Head Was a Sledgehammer or Wake Up Mr. Sleepy! Your Unconscious Mind Is Dead!—were chaotic symphonies of non-linearity and collage. They were as much about the texture of thought as the mechanics of action, inviting audiences to confront the slipperiness of consciousness itself.

A rebel and nurturer in equal measure, Foreman gave as much to emerging voices as he did to his own art. His Ontological-Hysteric Theater became a crucible for the avant-garde, birthing icons like Elevator Repair Service and Young Jean Lee. Yet, Foreman remained resolutely Foreman, unyielding in his pursuit of his own artistic language—a lexicon of fragmented reality and relentless experimentation.

Even in his final act, Foreman was unstoppable. His most recent play, Suppose Beautiful Madeline Harvey, premiered just last month, a testament to his indefatigable spirit.

Foreman let us lose our own minds by walking straight into his.

– As Ben Brantley noted.

Richard Foreman, provocateur, teacher, and eternal experimenter, didn’t just challenge theater; he redefined it. Rest in the head-spinning, crackling uncertainty you so masterfully crafted, Richard. A titan has indeed left the stage.