This paper is delivered as a personal anecdote of my own journey into the world of the oriental dance drama, the Noh theatre of Japan.

The Noh play is not structured on the premise of conflict, but rather on a sought for spiritual resolve. The masks are spirit beings, ghosts, and ancestors.

We had a problem. Chelsea and Bristol have made it clear that although they will pay the rent from their cheap champagne skin trade associations, they will in no way dish out souvlaki and hero money. Spinner had long since shot the remains of his Arts Council grant, generous boy, and There Was No Food.

No matter what, no matter how many insults and putdowns and shabby shows that only tire you out, no matter how many hours of singing in the street for pizza and mechanical repairs, no matter how many offers of script or choreography got waved aside, (those patches truly answered for), out here on the edge of theatre, in the heart of the drama- life onstage, we seem at this moment to need each other.