PRESS

" The stage is empty, or almost. Barren but for a stack of logs. And three young women alone on the stage, facing the audience. Within the first few moments of Queen Kong, the initial strangeness of these silhouettes transforms into a gentle yet sudden frenzy. From guitar riffs by the Cramps and Captain Beefheart, to the bel canto of Cecilia Bartoli and Luciano Pavarotti, the three performers have an infectious energy. In its own unique way, Queen Kong wins over its audience through a lively and bold - if not unexpected - performance. On a deeper level, the performance is also an expression of joyful feminism, where the artists dance in the name of liberty and women’s independence. La BaZooKa’s dance is at times animalistic and always primal – it’s a visceral performance that captures its audience. An exalting political statement. For a young audience – but not only. ”

Cyrille Planson in La Scène

"A halo of blue. A heap of logs. The sound of birds chirping. And then, there they are, the three Queens form a circle, immediately drawing us in with them. They play, they dance, they jump. The whistles become rock and roll riffs. Under the influence of some mysterious elixir, the three graces form and unform their circle. And they sing, harsh, guttural sounds – Indian and voodoo sounds. They follow each other, they chase each other, they scare each other; doing everything, doing nothing. They fall, too, as if struck by invisible arrows. And they get back up again, to resume their never-ending dance. Imagine Raphael’s « Three Graces » on ecstasy or the characters of Matisse’s « The Dance » suddenly coming to life, Monty Python-style. Imagine that « Twin Peaks » is the backdrop. Do you feel a sense of overwhelming joy and freedom? If so, welcome to the world of “Queen Kong.” Because in the end, you’ve become a bit Queen… and a bit Kong, too. Because if you leave the theater screaming and jumping, you’re one of them too! If you don’t (which you won’t), it’s because you’ve already done it all. You dreamed of pickaxes, you screamed, you jumped, you comforted, you fell. You hammered nails and sawed wood. You hauled hollering logs asking yourself what to do with them. You are all Queens. Long live the Queen!… Kongs.”

Bénédicte Lerat in seinechroniques.fr

« At the beginning, it’s easy to write them off as just another troupe of “cutesie” 1960s back-up dancers. But very quickly, it becomes obvious that this group is made of something different entirely, forged of pure rock and roll energy. So what are these three feral female lumberjacks even doing, on the brink of killing each other (only to be reborn as more beautiful incarnations of themselves) and clearly overwhelmed by the dizzying shrieks of split logs lamenting their fate?

Welcome to the fantastical world of Queen Kong. And to paint this setting, the dancers make use of a broad palette. The breath, the screams, the moans are all part of their choreographic arsenal. Dancing isn’t just made up of beautiful movements; after all, doesn’t your voice originate from a full-body effort? At last we’re starting to make sense this zany story.

It’s hinted at in the title, “Queen Kong”: something huge is on the brink of boiling over in this performance that boldly defies all pretense of politeness. The artistry and staging of this piece revolve around the concept of transformation. Strange giants appear – one could go so far as to call them lovable monsters – pretending to scare each other. They emerge in trios from the ranks of the dancers, rotund, draped in ribbons and leaves. In the end, we’d like to think that the source of our fears comes from some far-off “elsewhere,” always embodied by “someone else.” But that’s just not the way things work. The source of our fears lies within us – we create our own monsters. We can only understand them in the context of our own beliefs, projections, and ideas. These demons are like close neighbors that we bring to life and nurture.

It’s lucky, then, that the art of dance – at the crux of ideas and actions, of self-image and change, of inner nature and its boundaries— is capable of working around and making use of transitions to bring concepts such as these to the spotlight of center stage.

And to top it all off, it’s definitely not a downer!

Gérard Mayen in Feuille de Salle / Théâtre d'Orléans

"Welcome to the phantasmagoria that is La Bazooka’s “Queen Kong,” performed last night and again tonight at the Theatre [d’Orleans]. Come join the fold! This piece brings energy and enthusiasm – enhanced by a surprising original soundtrack. On stage, the three dancers (Sarah Crepin, Lea Scher, and Taya Skorokhodova) scream, sing, moan, chase each other, and scare each other in a world populated by strange creatures. Come see a leafy giant, a quilted monster, a log that cries like a baby… and above all, an uplifting show that holds your attention the whole way through.”

Julie Poulet-Sevestre in La République du centre

"In Queen Kong, a forest creature, a female [gargantuan/Michelin Man/giant] and three queen Kongs let loose in a raging rock atmosphere. These characters sing, run, dance, saw logs, swing axes, hammer nails. It’s crazy, it’s joyful - this a show for all audiences ages seven and up, where dance defies taboos with a dizzying and infectious energy. "

Renan Benyamina in heteroclite.org