Mark Rylance is no ordinary jobbing actor. He chooses to perform his art where ley lines meet ñ those points where invisible fields of energy converge. The Globe Theatre is built on one such point and Rylance, the theatreís artistic director, will need spiritual guidance when he opens this week in Antony & Cleopatra. He is playing Cleopatra and has to create a sexual chemistry with his ëhusbandí, Paul Shelley.

"There are some actresses Iíd be more frightened of falling in love with than Paul", says Rylance. "In any acting job youíve got to fall in love with someone youíre not in love with. You just have to believe in it. Otherwise youíre suddenly aware youíre going to kiss someone with a beard."

All-male productions arenít a new idea. Rylance points out that Shakespeareís plays were all originally written for ñ and performed by ñ men. Critics, however, point out the female parts were actually played by boys. And Rylance is 39. "We had a boy playing Katherine in Henry V in the Globeís first season," he says. "People knew it was a boy, and yet they gave their belief to it. So they made it happen. I like that they were feeling creative ñ feeling they were part of it."

Rylance loves to turn convention on its head and rip up the contract between audience and players. At the Globe he relishes juxtaposing actors and ëgroundlingsí ñ the enthusiasts who mill around in front of the five-foot-high stage.

"The groundlings are a new audience to the theatre," he says. "Itís more like a baseball game now. You can drink beer and eat at the Globe. Itís only a fiver to get into the yard. And if itís boring, you can come and go. Itís not a lot different to a pub, where people stand and listen to stories ñ itís just that weíre professional story-tellers. And there are lots of pretty girls and handsome boys, so even picking up is going on. When youíre telling a love story on stage, you actually see people start to kiss."

Far from degenerating into a dull museum piece, or an Elizabethan theme park, the Globe, opened in1996, has been a real success. In the 1998 season it was playing to 89 per cent capacity. And not all of those were Americans. Rylance has even commissioned a new play, Augustineís Oak, about St. Augustineís mission in AD 597 to convert the English. "Itís a great story. You need a good story in the Globe. If youíre not wondering whatís going to happen next, you become aware that youíre standing, or sitting on a bench."

As he speaks, Rylanceís transatlantic accent somehow makes an emergency crash landing over southern Ireland. This odd mix comes from his itinerant childhood. He was born in England, but his parents went to teach English in Connecticut when he was two. The family then moved to Milwaukee when he was nine.

"I was a bit shy as a child," he says. "I lived in a basement, and I knew I could make it look like a spaceship. So I would say to other kids, ëLetís imagine weíre Captain Kirk and Spock in Star Trek for half an hour.í And everyone would hang around. Acting was a skill I developed to get a bunch of friends together." He came back to England in 1978, successfully auditioned for RADA and soon had enough friends to fill the Starship Enterprise.

Rylance made his mark on television in The Grass Arena playing a down-and-out, for which he was named Radio Times Best Newcomer in 1993. His film career has been less remarkable. "I was offered Empire of the Sun by Spielberg in 1987. Of course I said yes. As soon as I said yes, a director I had always wanted to work with said, ëIím doing a whole season at the national. Come and play any part you want.í It was a real dilemma. Spielberg said, ëNo problem ñ I need to know in four hours.í At the time I was interested in the I Ching (an ancient Chinese system of divination). You do it with three coins. So I asked which job I should take. The answer came back that theatre was about community. It was what Iíd been unhappy about on my first film ñ Hearts of Fire. I took that film so I could meet Bob Dylan. Eventually I got invited into his caravan. I thought I would just say what came into my mind. I said, ëWhat do you think about Gorbachev and Reagan in Reykjavik, Bob?í As I said the words I thought ëOh no, he gave up politics in the 60s. I blew it. Heíll think Iím a spyí. Anyway, on that film there was no community. I turned more towards theatre. You have better fights. You have better love affairs. So I turned down Spielberg, took the theatre job, and met Claire, who eventually became my wife." Claire van Kampen is a director of music at the Globe ñ she composed the music for Antony & Cleopatra ñ and they live with her two children in Brixton, South London.

As the Globeís artistic director, Rylance sits on many committees ñ "deciding everything from the colour of the carpet in the front lobby to what the theatre is doing on millennium night". But acting remains his first love. He is best known for his acclaimed Hamlet (1989), and was named Best Actor at the 1994 Laurence Olivier Awards for Benedick in Much Ado About Nothing. His Macbeth, set in the world of religious cults, was less well received. Especially when Lady Macbeth relieved herself on stage. "I should have made it clear that it was ëa version of Macbethí. It was like a cover of a classic song ñ ëHey Judeí played on garbage cans."

When he finishes as the Globeís artistic director in 2001, Rylance may return to run Phoebus Cart, the theatre company he founded in 1990.

"I sometimes wonder why I took the first £10,000 I made in Hearts of Fire and invested it in my own theatre company. I remember my agent saying, ëIf you donít get into the film business, youíll never own a flat.í Well, I still donít own a flat. I live above a betting shop in Brixton. And my generation of actors ñ people like Gary Oldman ñ have really made money. So why did I keep playing Shakespeare? Itís like someone was guiding me all this time to get the necessary experience to run the Globe."