In addition to the essential elements: quiet sittings and other fundamental aspects of Gurdjieff's teachings, Tom Forman always challenged his group members to work with their hands and take on difficult projects. He welcomed senior people who had been working with Gurdjieff's teaching for many years to meet with his groups and share their perspectives. He included children from an early age.
Note: Though the past tense is used throughout since the work described with T. Forman before his death in 2001, the groups mentioned here are still active. Though, of course, there is deep feeling for what Tom Forman brought, the motivation here is not sentimental. Rather, it is to show the way this one person transmitted the teaching. May it give heart to those still working to bring the Gurdjieff Work in each one's own way. We don't do it, but it can't be done without us.
Photo Credit: Jean Claude Lubtchansky
There is great emphasis on childhood and balanced education - the "education for the being of a responsible being" - in G. I. Gurdjieff's writings and those of others, such as Dr. Michel de Salzmann, who took responsibility for continuing his work after his death. A unique feature of Work weeks with Tom Forman was that children were always included, especially in Philadelphia and Cleveland. These are a few recollections of those who were children in those conditions.
Tom Forman shared with us the importance of working with a perceptible center of gravity.
He taught by his words and, most importantly, by example in his presence to his own life. He walked with intention. Tom Forman reminded us again and again of the importance of relaxation in order to become open to the life within us through the awareness of sensation.
Relaxation and vigilance - hand in hand - an opening to another quality of life.
I was at Work periods in Cleveland and Philadelphia from an early age through my early teens. When I was about 8, Mr. Forman gave a task to the adults for the day: to try not to say “No.” To support this aim, the adults were to keep track of how many times they said, “I”, and for each one to give a dollar at the end of the day. Somehow, as the day came to a close I was near the jar where people were putting in money. I remember seeing someone write a check, admitting out loud that they had lost count. I remember, too the clear jar with dollars in it - a tangible illustration of the struggle. This impression engraved itself in my mind, at once a feeling of hopefulness - that we can struggle together - and of difficulty - how hard it is for us to give up even one little word for a day. Continue reading..
One time, we children came into the room and did imitations of various elders. One of us did an impression of Tom Forman, complete with his pipe, his way of walking, his mannerisms, and his speech. It was an exact, true impression. He laughed along with the rest of us.
Mr. Forman and other senior adults often engaged in spontaneous theater with an underlying lesson. At one summer Work period, we all - at least seventy adults and children - gathered for a lunch meal. Natalie de Etievan was visiting. I was seated in the back of the room across from Mr. Forman and Nathalie and saw almost the whole room from this vantage point. Very early in the meal, Natalie exclaimed that the jam being served was exquisite! She really went on about it, and Mr. Forman seamlessly, without missing a beat, joined in. Continue reading
I was afraid of the dark until I was old enough to be ashamed of it. While I was walking in the woods one day, Mr. Forman appeared and looked me dead in the eyes. Not related to anything that I was thinking or doing, he started speaking in an authoritative tone. Dragons, he said, are to be faced squarely, "Don’t turn your back on them or they will devour you." I recalled those words often as I struggled with all manner of childhood fears. It was true, fear did turn into panic if I didn’t stay in front of it.
Tom Forman worked closely with the Cleveland Group to construct a large Movements hall.. The Work weeks at Cleveland included leatherwork, weaving (growing the plants for dyes, carding, spinning, and weaving the wool), and extensive herb gardens, in addition to cooking, wall building, and general maintenance of the property. Mr. Forman was an active participant in crafts.
Since the two small structures on the property had room for only a few senior people, all others pitched tents on a sloping lawn. Nathalie de Etievan from Venezuela was one of a number of people invited to these Work weeks. Beatrice Sinclair often came to work with the Movements.
An excerpt (links added):
The book was A Study of Gurdjieff’s Teaching by Kenneth Walker. In this book, I found strong echoes of all the sacred and ancient traditions that I had been nourished by. And I found something deeply related to and intertwined with—yet that greatly surpassed—the insights of modern psychology. Here was the power and freshness of a modern voice that gave dimension and timeliness to the ideas contained within the world’s great teachings. I sensed—or perhaps intuited—a comprehensive living, organic teaching, one part intricately related to all the other parts, and one that spoke to me in regions of myself that I could only feel the hints of at that time. Gurdjieff—that single name became a beacon of light and an incredibly potent magnet for my youthful strivings.
Meanwhile, in the Fall of 1970, I began my formal photographic studies with Minor White, and one of his close associates, Nicholas Hlobeczy in Cleveland. I had no idea—not even a clue—at that time that Nick and Minor were already group leaders in the Gurdjieff Work, and had been students of the Gurdjieff teaching for many years.
Over time, Nick began to recommend books to me, notably Mount Analogue and In Search of the Miraculous, and gradually revealed the depth of his involvement in the Work. Early in 1971, after satisfying his many questions about my interests and my intent, he invited me to meet Thomas Forman, a direct student of Gurdjieff’s who was responsible for the groups in Cleveland. The meeting with Mr. Forman was notable and served to pique and deepen my interest in the Work. I joined the groups in early 1971, and my friend joined not long thereafter. We learned one valuable lesson; that, with strong enough intent and with a willingness to take substantial risks to our complacent, comfortable lives, we will attract what we genuinely need for our growth and development. Link to the complete original blog post, later published in Parabola Magazine
Family-style meals were a hallmark of Tom Forman's work with groups in New York. He invited those in his lectures and classes for meals after the events so they could ask their questions in an informal atmosphere. He played the swarmandal (an Indian, zitherlike instrument), which filled those listening with the feeling of his presence.
There was an experiment with masks (photo, far right) where he demonstrated that the whole body can be part of a mask, part of the personality. We could look out from behind the mask we usually wear and be free to play a role.
The New York group formed a puppet company in the early 1980s that performed throughout New York and at their space in Tribeca. The puppets were based on shadow puppets: jointed, made of painted plexiglass, and worked from behind a screen. The effect was of moving stained glass-like figures. They presented adaptations of Beauty and the Beast, folk and fairy tales.
Mr. Forman gave public talks and was a guest instructor in a class at the New School for Social Research (now New School University). Notes from some of those events can be found in the Talks section of this site.
Photo Credit two left photos: Robert Armagno
A portrait of Thomas Forman
An excerpt.
Mr. Forman found the language and attitude to address each of us as we were. At times, a simple hand gesture sufficed to convey a message. He listened and was able to find the nugget of meaning in what seemed to be a most uninteresting question, not only with those of us in his groups, but also when he responded to people at the lectures he gave as part of a course at The New School in the 1970s, and later in Philadelphia and Cleveland. He understood how to speak from his own understanding and in simple terms to anyone, no matter how familiar they were with the ideas. After the New York lectures, there were dinners at a nearby artist’s loft so that those new people could ask questions in an atmosphere that allowed for an openness and contact with the group. His groups benefited from the times when we would cook and share meals together, where there was a sense of “family”—a simple, joyful recognition that we were closest to him and had a strong bond in a common work. For all his personal warmth, there was an underlying discipline to his work with us. While dinner occasions were natural and informal, the occasional “Stop!” exercise would bring us back to our most important connection.
Photo Credit: David Ulrich captured a moment of pause before answering a question.
An excerpt
My first meeting with him showed that one’s deepest wish can become a reality. This rather awe-inspiring meeting created many questions - some profound, some laughable. He told me "I'm a farmer." Where’s the farm? He was living in an apartment in the middle of New York City. And what an apartment it was! There were oriental rugs on the floor and on top of them more orientals. Books, pipes, papers, pictures, maps; everything looks as if it were just about to fall - objects seemed to be held in some precarious balance. He had beautiful antique furniture, but what caught my attention were some small chairs tied at the bottom with string. For years I wondered, “When is he going to take the string off the chairs?” His windows were full of light and growing herbs and on the floor - pails of dirt. Why would someone need so much dirt? Needless, to say his apartment was an enigma to me. And in the midst of all this, he began talking to me or to a group of people in such a way that he enlivened the room, the people, himself, everything. Link to article
When I first met Mr. Forman, he asked me how long it took me to get to NYC from Princeton, where I was studying, on the bus. I said, "About an hour.” He gave me the task of not touching my face on the way back. The next time I met him, he asked how I did on the bus.
“I failed.”
He responded with the first of many such penetrating and liberating salvos I have remembered all my life. “How will you obey the commandments of Jesus Christ if you can’t go for an hour without touching your face.”
For the first year, he would say things like, “You are dreaming about Christianity. Come down and fill up those boots you are wearing,” or “Join the human race. Come out of your idealism.”
A year or so later, I complained to him, “I am aware of something in me that works against everything I care about.” He smiled and said, “I’m glad for you. Now you are becoming a human being.” It was a gentle blessing of truth and direction for which I remain grateful.
Tom Forman occasionally gave challenges that were tailor-made for someone in the group. The illustration of a poem on the left was one pupil's response to such a moment.
Tom Forman worked with different group members, or pupils, in slightly different ways about the question of "What should I do with my life?" cutting through to what was an essential question.
With one, he said, "If you see something, you need to share it."
With another, "When you see something, you are responsible for it. You may be the only one seeing it in that way."
The Philadelphia Group renovated tumble-down buildings into a Movements hall and a house with several bedrooms. Dishwashing was done outside in a shed. Crafts included upholstery and pottery. During yearly celebrations, members sometimes performed classic stories and folk tales. In 1994, T. Forman gave four talks for the public, where most attendees were unfamiliar with the Gurdjieff teaching, some notes from which are in the TALKS section of this site. .
From left to right: Jim George (with T Forman) and Beatrice Sinclair worked with Tom Forman in Philadelphia and New York. Lady Lucy Pentland worked with him in New York. Mr. Forman always invited Mme. de Salzmann and visitors from other Gurdjieff Foundations to group meetings.
Members of groups from New York, Philadelphia, and Cleveland went jointly to Europe and South America to work with Henri Tracol, Michel de Salzmann, and Lise Etievan, in Paris and Southern France and with Nathalie de Etievan in Venezuela. These were opportunities to hear the different voices of those who had worked with Gurdjieff and see how each modeled the Work in their own way, while the common action of presence was recognizable.
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