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May 8, 2013

Hello again, Richard Foreman. It’s been four years since the last time you walked out on us, leaving us with nothing but memories of intimate nights too crazy to be true. But in our hearts we knew you couldn’t quit us. So now you’re back, expecting to mess with our heads like you used to, and of course we’re going to let you. We just can’t help it.

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May 8, 2013

There’s no right or wrong way to approach “Old-Fashioned Prostitutes (A True Romance).” Since the late 1960s, Richard Foreman has been creating cryptic, bizarre shows that can be compared only to the other shows he’s written and directed: plotless, devoid of conventional characters, filled with assaulting sounds and lights.

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May 8, 2013

It’s hard to distinguish “Old-Fashioned Prostitutes” from his earlier works of experimental theater, especially since they all tend to share the same trademarks: Foreman’s disembodied voice booming from loudspeakers, harsh lighting, strings hanging over the audience, young actors being moved around like mindless pawns, random musings and an unapologetic lack of narrative.

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