I saw this performed in the late 80s but before the Iron Curtain and the Berlin Wall fell. The set consisted of an elaborate, gorgeous baroque ceiling hanging above the entire stage, under which the characters sat uneasily in green velvet-upholstered chairs and sofas. The play was set in an unnamed Eastern European capital where everyone knew that the ceiling above them was bugged and they had to assume that everything they said was being heard and recorded to potentially be used against them. Now that every "ceiling" everywhere is "bugged" -- through our very own cell phones -- it might be a great time for a revival or contemporary adaptation of this play. I don't recall the significance of the fact that this ceiling was the Archbishop's, but today alas the first thing that comes to mind is the concealment of sexual abuse -- that would give the play a different very twisted twist. What made the play powerful when I saw it: everyone knows that they are being listened to, so no one can ever say what they think or what they mean. Instead, people spoke in elaborate codes to be able to imply and hint at things without saying them, with plausible deniability. So it's questionable whether any actual communication takes place, and the audience isn't really totally sure what's going on either, although Arthur Miller, being brilliant, managed to achieve that fine balance that still allowed the audience to understand and glean meaning out of the confusion.
I'm enjoying reconnecting with past "eras" of my life by delving into my memory banks and adding the books/literature that made a significant impression on me over the years. There are plenty of holes in my memory -- including some books I can't for the life of me remember the title or author! -- so for most books I'm not adding a rating or review, but this one stood out. However, no guarantee that I'm remembering everything as it was ... maybe the chairs weren't upholstered in green velvet ...