Come into the forest; where nymphs bathe and play, where Pan sleeps. Careful not to wake him, he is the bringer of Panic.

The Great God Pan: goat horns, goat's legs, goatee beard and goaty penis, chasing his nymphs. But Pan is dead. Since AD 33 so the story goes. So that can't be him at the window of a Brixton flat or snogging that woman in a crowded bar. Because the Great God Pan is dead. Or is he?

Drawn from personal stories and current obsessions, this tale of love and unsettling illnesses is Improbable with brown paper and projections, many self help books and some very chaseable nymphs. Panic is staged by Improbable, which creates theatre, opera, site-specific work and open space events that engage, support and develop the communities in which they work, both on a national and international level.