When I arrived in Spencer's classroom, the scope and ambition of his seminar was baffling: it seemed to me he wanted to talk about everything, or at least everything that mattered, all the matter that could be put into words (and then some).

What I came to learn is that it "seemed" this way because, in fact, it was that way. Spencer really did mean to imbue us with both the tools and chutzpah to stand toe-to-toe with the world; more to the point, with ourselves. As Spencer well knew, to think—not only about this or that object, but to think about thinking in the act of thinking itself, in thought's scenography and direction—is already to act, to be caught up in a drama that recursively turns each denouement into a spectre of some metatheatrical element (call it "history" or "philosophy," if you must) that we struggle to escape or release.

As a student I may have failed to live up to Spencer's ambition, but his lesson resonates all the more. For the brief time we knew each other, he nudged me in important directions, supported me when I was outmatched by my own interests, and was kind to me when I was sick. I know his sharp glance, dry humor, and wry smile will be missed by those who knew him. 

"Living," he once wrote, "but not yet fully alive"—because thought impossibly, disruptively inserts itself between any mere equation of being and life, so that they are never equal, each exceeding the other, each haunting each other, the half-brothers Sleep and Death. I suppose we must all be afraid, we must all tremble, but Spencer knew better than most that this anxiety, this edge and its beyond to which are all in due course committed, is our proper home. In times of loss we may wish we could be the ones to lead the way in this journey, but there is some comfort in knowing such forebears await us.

I am grateful to have shared a little bit of this existence with Professor Golub. I pray for peace and warmth to all those grieving and remembering him.

Theatre at Brown was a tricky place. I loved so much of what I was learning and, yet,  didn't know if I belonged, truly, to it. Until I had Spencer as a professor and something changed. He saw my potential and brought a light and The Misanthrope into my world. Even when I was unsure of my next step after graduating, Spencer was encouraging and caring--visibly shocked as to why I wouldn't move on to get my MFA. And while I took another turn professionally, his kindness and confidence in me as a performer stayed with me. Because all the world's a stage and everything I learned about being a performer remains in my heart. Thank you for being you, Spencer. You were absolutely my best memory from my time working and learning from Brown's theatre department.

Spencer was a huge influence in my creative life. I think of him often, and I like to impart lessons he taught me to younger people. When I graduated, he pulled me close and told me I was “an interesting guy.” Coming from Spencer, it was about the highest compliment he could have given me. I will carry his teachings forward, as so many will.

A little over a year ago, I defended my doctoral dissertation at Brown. Even though he had already retired, Spencer had agreed to be a part of my committee, and it meant the world to me.
It is with immense sadness that I learned of his passing. From the day I interviewed at Brown, Spencer had a huge impact on my thinking and on my work. He was the most creative and generous teacher I have met, and I cherish the time I spent in his classes, reading and watching and making and writing things both weird and wonderful. His graduate seminar on Performance Philosophy during my second semester was a work of magic: he turned a disparate group of students into the Wittgensteinians. During the pandemic, his “Compossible Worldbuilding” class offered those of us who were lucky enough to take it with endless intellectual nourishment, doors onto other worlds, and a strange and wonderful community.  I like to describe him as an unsung neurodivergent hero. He will be greatly missed. 
My sincere condolences to his family and loved ones.

I have been so sad since learning of Spencer's passing. I am thinking of Jeanie, Rachel, and Ethan and of all his friends. 
I was one of Spencer's advisees, and I credit him with teaching me, more than anyone else, how to think about theatrical representation, how it works to externalize thought, and how it relates to philosophy. Years of studying with him, thinking along with him (or trying to keep up), and working on assignments for his classes (I took mise-en-scène twice!) transformed the way I think, write, and teach. 
I recall visiting Brown when I was considering whether or not to enroll in the graduate program there in 1999. I saw the production of Three Sisters that he directed. I had never seen anything remotely like it. I was stunned, perplexed, and it stuck with me. I really wanted to understand what was going on in that theatre program! I enrolled and it set me on a path that has led to a good life, in all sorts of ways. I credit Spencer with making a decisive impact on my life that has made it much richer. Thank you Spencer. I will miss you. 
To Moscow, to Moscow!

I was a student of Spencer's in the 1990s and his wisdom, insight, and ways of thinking have stayed with me ever since. He was a deep thinker with a light touch and a renowned teacher. My condolences to the family and to the friends and many lives he touched.

I was fortunate to have had Spencer as a professor, advisor and director during my time as a Theater major at Brown - nobody was more generous and stimulating. I ran into him six years ago by Gramercy Park and I will cherish that encounter

Spencer was a fantastic professor. He opened up new and interesting ways of thinking about theatre and film. I had such fun crafting projects for his classes like mise en scene and advanced performance. I will always remember what he said about every single thing that is put on stage mattering. That even the fact of a character wearing yellow socks matters. He was so thoughtful and intelligent while still being kind. I certainly am a better theatre-maker for having been taught by him.

I'm gutted to hear about the passing of Prof. Golub. He was my professor and director for my master's thesis at Brown in Theatre Studies. He was very influential in my academic and personal life, showing me that I had more resilience and self-reliance than I knew. I will always be grateful for his kindness, his fierce intellect, and the confidence he poured into his students. His mentorship shaped the course of my life, and I carry so many of his lessons with me still. My deepest condolences to his family, friends, and to all who were touched by his extraordinary spirit. May his memory be a blessing.

Spencer Golub opened up new worlds of thinking about plays for me. I remember him saying "Every work of art in the west since 1945 has been shaped in some way by the Holocaust" and it's the kind of thing you want to argue with, and you are the better for having argued with it.  His teaching style was eclectic and unpredictable, and endlessly cerebral.  I've seldom felt as creatively free as sitting in his classroom, thinking about how we can make a performance piece that will stretch theater. He was sardonic without being mean, a very tough tightrope to walk.  The world was a better place for having this brilliant, inscrutable, kind man in it.

I am so sorry to hear of Spencer's passing. I send love to the whole family in these sad days of transition.  Sitting in Sock and Buskin meetings discussing plays with Spencer was extraordinary. His brilliance and humor and celebration of great playwriting and enjoyment of exploring not-so-great plays made these meetings joyful and inspiring. I carry so many visual memories from his wild productions at Brown. May he rest in peace and convene with other artists and scholars similarly devoted to performance and to family.

Jeanie & Family,
The days we spent with you and Spencer in Lincoln this summer are cherished memories.  We enjoyed all your visits to Greenleaf over the years.  Remember going to the Smithsonian in Washington DC when all our kids were young and taking in the special Star Trek exhibit?  We have a picture of all of us standing in the transporter room and Spencer looks just like a member of the cast.   We will try to find it & send later. It still makes us laugh.

You and Spencer were an incredibly, loving couple that raised two amazing children. 

God bless you and your family during this difficult time.   We send love and prayers. Jeanie, Rachel, Ethan and Anna please give each other a hug from us.

All Our Love,
Ken and Lori Leonhard

OBITUARY

Spencer J. Golub

November 19, 1948 – November 22, 2025

Sugarman Sinai Memorial Chapel

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The funeral and burial are private