The fax came from Rome. It said: "Your name has been forwarded to us by Richard Geoffroy of Dom Perignon and Clair Panzer, director of the film shot at Epernay. . . . We are keen to invite M. Shonosuke Okura to perform in our upcoming event." It was signed by Marisa Marcella of Prime Time Promotions, official organizers of the Vatican Christmas Concert.

Shonosuke Okura is the 16th generation in a long line of noh performers. As a boy, he studied the kotsuzumi (small drum) under his father. He made his first stage appearance with the shoulder-held drum at the age of 8.

At 17, Okura changed to the otsuzumi (large drum) which is held on the thigh. Since then, Okura has performed in traditional noh for more than two decades and has been designated an intangible cultural asset by the Japanese government.

Noh comprises a combination of utai (lyrics), mai (dance) and gakki (instruments) that helps create the simple yet incredibly complex expressions in the masks worn by noh shite dancers. The kakegoe shouts and clear sharp sound of the otsuzumi are an integral part of all that is noh.

Okura is a borderless man. While he is known for his accomplishments on the noh stage, he also performs outside that genre. He has joined with native Americans in their tribal chants, jammed with jazz musicians, and formed a trio of Chinese, Japanese and Korean percussionists known as the Hiten Percussion Group.

Outside Japan, Okura has done a number of command performances, including one for the Dalai Lama upon his receipt of the Nobel Peace Prize and one for Pope John Paul II at the Vatican. He often participates in charitable events, performing for the victims of the Great Hanshin Earthquake in 1995, for example.

In Rome, at quarter to midnight, rehearsal for the concert's opening begins. Gospel singers shout "Hallelujah!" Drums from Africa pound out a primal rhythm, and Okura mesmerizes the gathered staff with his drum and deep-throated kakegoe shouts.

When the rehearsal is over, the stage directors huddle. Then they call Okura over. Would he perform in the latter half of the concert as well? Of course, he replied. He had come prepared to do a shortened version of "Sanbaso," one of the most ancient of noh performances.

Next day, a line of VW sedans waits to carry the Christmas Concert celebrities to their audience with the Pope. Brian Adams. Diane Warwick and her husband. Indonesian Anggun and Canadian Gino Vanelli. Italians Nek, Syria and Tosca, who will sing the special anthem composed for the concert.

Among them, Shonosuke Okura stands out, clad in flowing brown silk kimono with his hanagyoyo crest embroidered on the sleeves. At the audience, he presents the Pope with a silk and gold brocade obi. Thirteen years ago, Okura gave a command performance for the Pope in that same room.

The day of the concert sees discontent in Rome. Demonstrations against Austrian politician Jorg Heider tie up traffic. Some streets are closed. Some artists are late.

Backstage, Shonosuke Okura leans two horsehide disks against the wall and positions a hair dryer to blow hot air on them. These drum heads must be heated to force out any moisture. In noh, the kotsuzumi small drum is a "wet" drum, and you can often see performers adjust the stretch of the drum head by licking a thumb and rubbing it on the rawhide. But the otsuzumi is a drum of fire. Its heads must be completely dry.

At quarter to seven, he dons a pale ivory kimono, white tabi socks, hard straw zori and light brown hakama trousers. Other artists stop him in the hallway asking him to pose for pictures.

The concert is pushed back to 7:30 because of the demonstrations. Okura starts assembling his drum. He threads an orange silk rope through and around the taut, dry drumheads. Then he slips the hollow lacquered 600-year-old cherrywood drum body between them. Slowly he tightens the cord, working clockwise around the drum. People stop to watch.

He taps the head and tightens the rope another turn. He taps again. One more round of tightening. He ties it off, then uses a smaller cord to tighten the orange rope just a little more. He smacks the otsuzumi with a horny, calloused right hand. It rings true and clear.

Amid three hours of Christmas songs, new and old, one performance stood out: "Sanbaso." An ancient ceremony of supplications for rich harvests of the five grains and for peace on earth. A representation of the flow of time, yet superseding time. A manifestation of all the favor bestowed upon all things by benevolence from above.

"Sanbaso." Performed by Shonosuke Okura, Important Intangible Cultural Asset from Japan, with kakegoe shouts and perfectly timed beats on the iron-hard horsehide head of his otsuzumi drum.