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Reviewed by:
  • Pearls for Pigs
  • Robert F. Gross
Pearls for Pigs. By Richard Foreman. Tribeca Performing Arts Center, New York City. 19 December 1997.

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Maestro (David Patrick Kelly) in Richard Foreman’s Pearls for Pigs, directed by Foreman. Tribeca Performing Arts Center, New York City. Photo: T. Charles Erickson.


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Pierrot (Peter Jacobs) in Richard Foreman’s Pearls for Pigs, directed by Foreman. Tribeca Performing Arts Center, New York City. Photo: T. Charles Erickson.

Although Richard Foreman’s theatre has always been one of crisis, the nature of the crisis has shifted noticeably in his two most recent plays. In Permanent Brain Damage, Foreman’s offstage voice described a man in crisis, a man who had lost the capacity for pleasure, while onstage, a man only identified as “In a White Suit” was menaced, spanked, immobilized, and zipped into a body bag. Hope for this poor fellow was mocked as Foreman sang a strident and grotesquely distorted version of “On the Sunny Side of the Street.” Promoted as the most “emotionally naked and personal” of all Foreman’s plays, the combined effect of the publicity and the use of the artist’s voice encouraged spectators to interpret the play, not as an exploration of the workings of consciousness, like so many of Foreman’s earlier works, but as a blunt expression of the artist’s emotional state. Less humorous, playful and ironic, the strategies of Permanent Brain Damage underscored the emotional intensity of In a White Suit’s personal dilemma, crossing over a subtle boundary from Foreman’s usual philosophical explorations to an expressionist Schrei. The “emotionally naked and personal” style of the play increased empathy while deproblematizing the self. One left the theatre less intrigued by the intellectual substance of the play than worried about Richard Foreman’s moods. Pearls for Pigs took this impulse toward autobiographical dramatization one step further—with a resultant loss in theatrical sophistication. The play is about a theatrical artist, the Maestro (David Patrick Kelly), who articulates a vision of theatre that often sounds very much like the one Foreman articulates in his interviews and manifestos. When, for example, the Maestro asserts, “I am not the main character. The world itself, is the main character” (Theater 28.1: 44), he gives voice to Foreman’s own phenomenological aesthetics.

But the Maestro’s claim runs counter to the actual experience of Pearls for Pigs, in which a single character dominated the dramatic action to a degree virtually unprecedented in Foreman’s work. The Maestro’s lengthy speeches were less frequently interrupted by aggressive bells, buzzers, flashing lights, and outbreaks of manic action than usual. His actions were less often undermined by the actions of others. He turned to the audience and directly addressed it, even establishing eye contact with individual spectators. Unlike the usual Foreman actor, who is separated from the auditorium by strings, wooden lathing, and plexiglass, the Maestro was allowed to step into the auditorium, momentarily reducing the gap between himself and the audience. As the Maestro looked for an ideal spectator who would respond completely to all that he hoped to communicate, each audience member was encouraged to hope that s/he could be that sought-for spectator. Kelly’s intense and energetic engagement of the audience tended to further override the usual Foremanian comic distance between actor and spectator—it was hard to stand back from someone trying so desperately to establish a connection. While Foreman has often undercut habitual responses to dialogue by accompanying the words with incongruous physical [End Page 517] action, much of Kelly’s physical performance reinforced the dialogue, especially when it was addressed to the audience. In Pearls for Pigs, the obsessive energy of a Foreman actor was turned toward the audience, which was actively wooed. For once, Foreman’s techniques of writing and staging strengthened the lead performer and contradicted the Maestro’s claim. Despite his protestations, he was the main character, and was situated in a uniquely privileged relationship to the audience.

Unlike the densely decorated and tightly contained stage designs of Foreman’s recent productions in his theatre at Saint...

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