What’s in a name? Someone asked that once, someone in pain and on the theatre stage. It could have once been asked when accusations were brandished like guillotines and the man of the woods stalked the virgin forests of Salem, but that will always be historically obscured. It served Arthur Miller’s purpose, and we all know what somebody else said – if it’s good enough for him… For me it’s always been a case of my name containing within its fragile walls everything that is not. Every...