My friend John Foreman, who has died aged 93, was a folk singer and maker of broadsheets who played an important part in the UK folk revival of the 1950s and 60s.
As well as playing in bands and recording a collection of music-hall songs, The ’Ouses in Between (Reality, 1966), John, known as the Broadsheet King, printed and bound countless pamphlets, song sheets and books, including a songbook for most years of the Aldermaston marches (1959-63).
Through his parents, John had learned many music-hall songs and he made it his avocation to keep them (and his non-proper accent) alive. Born to Winifred (nee Harper) and Herbert Foreman, a railway worker, in Euston, north London, John came from a long line of music hall performers, clowns, dancers and one circus ringmaster. Indeed, on days when the gramophone had been hocked, his mother had to replace it with her own voice, singing the family’s favourite songs on request.
John went to William Ellis grammar school in Camden, then studied history at King’s College London. In 1953-54 he spent three months in Brixton prison as a conscientious objector. Prison was where he learned to play the clarinet, and he formed the Elysian Jazz Band in 1954. He was closely involved with Unity Theatre, a workers’ theatre club in Somers Town, and became a mainstay of the Smoky City Skiffle group from 1956 onwards. In the early 50s he married Rita Alden, a notable washboard player. They separated in 1970 and John became the primary carer of their two sons.
To support his family John worked as a substitute teacher in the 1950s and 60s (he was unable to gain a permanent position due to his conviction), then in the 70s taught at London College of Printing. He designed and produced broadsheets to sell at Petticoat Lane market, in east London (often singing the songs he was selling), then later turned to printmaking and bookbinding, including of his own chapbooks and squibs (a short piece of satirical writing). These were another example of John championing a forgotten treasure, covering everything from observations to signs on the street.
In a Radio 4 interview in 2016, he said: “My work on coal hole covers never got very far, but somebody needs to do it.” His house was packed from floor to ceiling with books, posters, boxes, cards, printer’s trays and a wide-ranging assortment of objects. As he said himself, “I find it hard to part with things.”
John was my neighbour in Kentish Town, and we struck up a friendship that grew over the years. Known for his subversive sense of humour, curiosity, interest in everything and tendency to suddenly burst into song, he was loved and admired by many.
He became a founding member of the British Music Hall Society in 1983, and in 1992 received an award from Cecil Sharp House for services to folk music.
John is survived by his sons, Chris and Nat, grandchildren Matthew, Felix, Elfie and Frankie, and great-grandchildren, Alfie, Lily, Arthur and Jude.
