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In Eastern Europe in bygone times an ordinarily dressed man would walk into a village almost secretly, like a spy, then suddenly transform himself - he would pull his clothes over his head and produce from his pockets puppets of crocodiles, knights and heroes. His clothes were his performing hut, his stage was at the top of his reaching high arms. Children and their dogs would run from near and far to see him perform. The puppet-master is a figure who fascinates me. If I could travel in time I would become one, or perhaps I am one anyway. It is my ideal of theatre: simple, direct, yet mysterious. |