"After it, someone went up to him and said, 'Well, Bill, you've invented a new art form," says Wyse, who played the Fairy Godmother "And in fact, it is."

Rauch, who calls the Kronauer endeavor his most eye-opening experience ever, agrees that "there was something about the scope of the vision involved that's so big, bigger than me, bigger than all of us, bigger than anything I've ever done." The concept controlling the production the idea of a "magic forest" of criss-crossing stories as an image for the whole world--"scares me now when I listen to conversations in crowds."

The Kronauer experience had a deeper effect on him as well--particularly as it led into worries about a not-yet-certain future. "Nowadays I find myself thinking in terms of the difference between trying to get a lot of professional jobs and producing plays on the one hand, and devoting yourself to a group of people on the other. These days I wonder whether it's possible to do anything really new without working for a long time with a group of people--which makes me think that's what I'll do at some time in the future."

For the immediate future, at least, both Warner and Rauch's plans will keep them on surprisingly familiar turf--opposite sides of Brattle Street Rauch will spend the summer directing in the Agassiz. Warner is running the HRDC summer theater--a return of sorts to the group which had not accepted a show of his since Agamemnon, and whose internal politics he says helped spur him to work outside Harvard after sophomore year.

Afterwards, he will almost certainly make use of the contacts and the troupe he has developed in that time in professional theater. In fact, one of the skills almost every observer notes of Warner is his consistent ability to attract good people to work with him. Not wholly unrelated is an uncanny knack for making connections and attracting backers: when he isn't directing, he is caught up in a constant round of breakfast, lunch and dinner meetings with possible contacts, handling much of his own fundraising and publicity management.

"I get calls all the time now," he says, "and I'm not even sure where all of them come from I know enough producers that I think I can just start going from city to city." His post-graduation plans and projects are numerous. After summer theater, just for starters, he plans to write the book for a musical to be produced this fall in New York before his Winter's Tale opens.

"On some sort of level, Paul's already set," Ariev says. "There's enough of a flurry of attention around him now so that he can just keep going from show to show and eventually make a name for himself."

Though Rauch has yet to make comparable connections, it is difficult to find a colleague who doesn't put money on his eventual success. "He's made a name for himself solely on the quality of his work here," one says. "He may not have all those producers ringing him up yet, but he will.

Rauch: A director has to be so humble The actors, the audience, the playwright all know the play so much better than you do. All you can do is open it up and let these people breathe.

Warner: But at the same time you can't deny the importance of the director as a backbone--before you open it up. You can't sit back and let it breathe on its own.

Rauch: Yes, it's hard work to get it to the point where it can breathe. The director's job isn't to force it, though; it's to invest the faith and trust in all those people that'll let them succeed.

Warner: But that's all theoretical, isn't it? In practice, you're shaping people's, work; there's a thin line between forcing them and not doing enough.

The years of closeness and endless discussion almost certainly have left their mark on both directors' work--but no one, least of all Rauch or Warner, can say for sure what the effect has been. What is certain is that no absolute oppositions apply. "I know the tendency is to go with Bill as the sensitive one and Paul as the mylar sensational," says Howard, "but I think they've both looked at each other's productions and seen things that they didn't like, and that they liked, and now they're looking more and more different. It's been a process of defining themselves in relation to their audiences, which have largely been the same audience."

As to how much they actually differ, not even Warner and Rauch agree on that. "We support each other, we talk a lot, but we have a very different aesthetic," Rauch says. Warner is less certain: "We have the same mind in a lot of ways, it's just that our approaches are different."

"In all our discussions there's going to be an undertone of criticism," says Rauch, "but that can't really be avoided. If we didn't both believe in ourselves, we wouldn't want to do things the way we do them.