The simplicity of the single set in Arcadia 1 with its rather austere furniture, bare floor and uncurtained windows has been pointed out by critics, notably in comparison with some of Stoppard's earlier work. This relatively timeless set provides, on one level, an unchanging backdrop for the play's multiple complexities in terms of plot, ideas and temporal structure. However we should not conclude that the set plays a secondary role in the play since the mysteries at the centre of the plot can only be solved here and with this particular group of characters. Furthermore, I would like to suggest that the on-stage objects play a similarly vital role by gradually transforming our first impressions and contributing to the multi-layered meaning of the play. In his study on the theatre from a phenomenological perspective, Bert O. States writes: "Theater is the medium, par excellence, that consumes the real in its realest forms […] Its permanent spectacle is the parade of objects and processes in transit from environment to imagery" (40). This paper will look at some of the parading or paraded objects in Arcadia. The objects are many and various, as can be seen in the list provided in the Samuel French acting edition (along with lists of lighting and sound effects). We will see that there are not only many different objects, but also that each object can be called upon to assume different functions at different moments, hence the rather playful question in the title of this paper (an illusion to the popular game "Twenty Questions" in which the identity of an object has to be guessed), suggesting we consider the objects as a kind of challenge to the spectator, who is set the task of identifying and interpreting them. For reasons of time and space, I will not attempt to deal with all the objects in the play, but will focus on those I consider to have more than the simple function of creating the spatial and temporal context of the action. Marvin Carlson has discussed how iconic objects on stage are "carefully selected or created to approximate such objects in the world outside the theatre as closely as possible" (76). This is obviously the case here, since all the objects I will mention correspond to what he calls "iconic identity" , a term coined by Keir Elam, in that "objects are the things they represent" (76). However, as Bert O. States reminds us, even in the case of the most ordinary object: "theater balances the tension between the pressing real world and its own ritual" (42). Because it allows the possibility of creating the illusion of the fourth wall, we tend to think that it is the room which plays the major role in setting up iconic space. This is not strictly speaking true, for stage space is more complex than that. Kenneth Pickering points out that: "There is a distinction between the walls of that room, which we know not to be made of plaster, and the furniture, which is as real as any in our own home. In some ways, the effect of placing a natural object in an artificial environment is to sharpen the audience's awareness of the importance and function of that object" (188). I would argue that this is particularly true in Arcadia. From the outset, virtually all the objects of importance in Arcadia are placed on the large table which occupies a central position on the stage. Both the size and position of the table are significant since it attracts the audience's attention and makes the objects more noticeable. It is probably the books which first catch our eye. If we cannot, of course, see which particular books are being studied, we can at least identify them as books, magazines, portfolios, papers etc. of varying shapes and sizes. At first these documents seem simply designed to inform the audience that this is a school room with its occupants engaged in appropriate activities. The play starts off with a picture of quiet study and this short sequence of studious silence will be repeated at intervals throughout the play with the same characters, 1 All quotations from the play will be taken from the 2009 Faber edition.