“’Bullshit’ doesn’t need any explicit political references; the background murmurings of an age in which facts and reliable knowledge are no longer hard currency is audible enough throughout the evening, especially just before the US elections. As the saying goes: We all look through our own window at a tiny slice of the world and believe it to be reality. True enough. The performance is one of She She Pop’s stronger pieces because there is something truly at stake here: the possibility of a common understanding.”
Tagesspiegel, Patrick Wildermann, 30 October 2024

“Wonderful references to theatre and life are in the commercial break, e.g. when Bark wants to sell the pillar of the stage portal that separates everything into above and below, reality and fiction – and without which the theatre would collapse (as it will soon anyway, see Berlin’s current cultural politics). (…) After 90 short minutes, the old world has been sold and a new one only just been sketched out, the old community has been privatised and a new one just emerging. Much here remains unclear. But this is also an opportunity, because this evening leaves one thinking even longer about whether we have really exhausted all possibilities of staying in dialogue with each other.”
Berliner Morgenpost, Georg Kasch, 30 October 2024

“For now the evening can enter into its true state of transformation, even attempt an existential leap. A new theatre – that is also a new form of perceiving, speaking and being. Above all, a different type of hearing, perhaps with echolocation like bats? (…) We have taken the first step into a new world of perception. Everything is still very dark here, but you can hear the scratching and flapping of wings, and perhaps we will soon learn the alphabet of sound waves.”
Berliner Zeitung, Doris Meierhenrich, 30 October 2024

“It’s no longer clear whether they are people or animals. You only see very blurred images on black and white televisions, much is in the dark. We are left very much guessing what kind of metamorphosis will take place after this cleansing, after this sell-out. We have never seen this illusionistic method from this group before. They have really broken new ground.”
Deutschlandfunk Kultur, Fazit, Tobi Müller, 29 October 2024

“Yet She She Pop explore the immaterial further: Wouldn’t it be nice to encounter the world in completely new ways, the group muses – and presents a miniature dialogue-based encounter with animals on stage. (…) “What do you actually have against herds?”, Smarty Sheep philosophises or rather ultimately bleats to the performer – thus questioning the principle of selfish individualism. That there is just as much to criticise about human herd behaviour will then be explored in the next performance, which is sure to be just as great.”
taz, Jenni Zylka, 31 October 2024

“They (…) were treated to a performance in which no one is too embarrassed to put the literally naked facts, even those of a no longer young female body, at the service of doubt, of questioning what one knows or thinks one knows and what is now crumbling and crumbling. (…) It’s been a long time since we’ve seen anything as intense as “Bullshit” from the icons of the German-language performance scene.”
FAZ, Eva-Maria Magel, 24 November 2024

“It is no coincidence that many other theatres and performance collectives aside from She She Pop are also currently focusing their work on community and ecstasy. Because the longer the growing isolation and social anonymity are taken for granted, the harder we will be hit by the consequences in form of radicalization, hatred and agitation. Just how democratizing intoxication can be, was already evident in the ancient forerunner of theatre: the mystery play, whose content was of a cultic-religious nature and at whose heart lay collective ecstasy. An ecstasy that was rooted in the communal experience of these games, which often lasted for days.”
The Pioneer, Pia von Wersebe, 20.10.2023

“”High” started out as a socio-critical search for a “we”, as an attempt to become intoxicated together with the audience – and ended up as an ironic exercise in meditation with observations on resistance, overcoming shame and participatory fun and games.”
Berliner Zeitung, Ulrich Seidler, 14.10.23

“No, there are no drugs involved here, even if Papatheodorou describes her cookies as having an “effect”. They are to be eaten together at a designated time, so that everyone absorbs the traces and imprints, and possibly sweat and skin flakes of another. Ecstasy is therefore not actually the goal, but rather the experience of collectivity.”
Nachtkritik, Michael Wolf, 13.10.2023

“She She Pop has named the evening “High” with the declared aim of putting us all into a collective state of intoxication here and now, ecstasy under supervision, so to say, or as they call it, “a shared high” (…) Blockages need to be released, resistance eliminated and distracting thoughts banished. (…) The members of She She Pop are not deterred by any of this, they simply perform away any reservations and stick to their guns: stop individualism, bring on the collective ecstasy. Together we are stronger, or at least higher.”
Berliner Morgenpost, Katrin Pauly, 13.10.2023

“It’s okay to think of rituals when watching the show, but we’re not performing any that already exist. (…) As always, we use ourselves as examples and offer ourselves as carriers of strategies that can lead to a high. (…) In this protected theatrical space, there is always the chance to try something out (…), to slip briefly into a different situation, into a different social system, into a social situation. You can’t start a big revolution without first having practiced or tried it out.”
Lisa Lucassen in conversation with Oliver Krantz, rbb kultur radio, 11.10.2023

“Taking objects as their point of departure, She She Pop soon explore a utopian space through a rather impressive projection of photographs onto several layers of gauze. The performers crawl through a kind of tunnel, sometimes ending up in a destroyed house after the catastrophe of Chernobyl, then they are back in front of a block of houses in former East Berlin – today’s Berlin-Mitte (…) Along the way, the performers try to continue the dialog about the many unanswered questions surrounding property or participation using constantly new rules. First breathe, then speak. Or touch. The rules have to be renegotiated over and over again, as utopia remains utterly elusive, and so the picture transforms into an increasingly incomprehensible collage of the future.”
Annette Stiekele, Hamburger Abendblatt, 19.01.24

“The drawers have become walls, which doesn’t sound very optimistic, but doesn’t spread gloom either. (…) But the beauty of She She Pop’s narrative experimental theatre is that ideological exaggerations always just serve as an initiation for their dismantling. And on this evening they achieve this dismantling with only a few wonderfully playful tricks. Whenever the dialogue reaches a dead end, they give themselves new rules for expressing themselves (…). And slowly their self-reflection slips into a dreamlike journey through time, back to that turning point in history when everything still seemed possible. A gauze curtain falls and a wall of dense undergrowth is projected onto it. The former border region of the Berlin Wall has become a social divide. But slowly the camera zooms closer and closer into the green until a black hole opens up, through which the performers simply slip backstage, into another space-time. The stage becomes a magical floating place between yesterday and today, between concrete slab and mahogany interior – and the performers climb around in it, as in their most daring utopias. Suddenly, everything seems possible here, including joining forces with two other colleagues from Seoul and Siberia via video. And for the length of one performance the world is a better place.”
Doris Meierhenrich, Berliner Zeitung, 08.12.2022

“After ten years, She She Pop once again open the drawers at Berlin’s HAU in which they autobiographically sought to engage in a dialogue between East and West. Among the books from the past, which they divide into what can go and what should stay, they also discover old utopias. Which are still worth something to us today, in the midst of a war and an increasingly visible climate catastrophe, after all the debates on identity politics and a growing awareness that our white Central European perspective of prosperity is perhaps in itself more a problem than a solution?”
Georg Kasch, Nachtkritik, 08.12.2022

“Visions of the future from the past. In general, much here revolves around the future, visions, utopias. (…) The protagonists undertake a journey through time, which takes them both into the past and into the future. It is a journey on which the women repeatedly change planes. The planes of time and perception. And over and over again, they come up against barriers, walls.
Antje Bonhage, rbb-online, 07.12.2022

“(…) If Dance Me makes one thing clear, it is that achievements are not for eternity. In a theatrical battle, the Berliners of She She Pop playfully tackle these facts. Even if the tempo slackens a little here and there, the one hundred minute performance is entertaining due to a healthy dose of humour. (…)Dancing with oranges between their bodies or enjoying a rave: various exercises are used in each round. In between the exercises, we are playfully provided with information about the different generations. Thus we learn that the young wallow in melancholy with their fondness for singer-songwriter Lana Del Rey, while the rebellious elderly lovingly ruin the song ‘The Wall’ by Pink Floyd. ‘Teacher, leave them kids alone’ is symbolic self-irony and exactly in the spirit of She She Pop. The established ideals of the older generation, who quickly have the audience wrapped around their little fingers with their disarming dances, are constantly undermined. We make progress, but then we fall short again. Apparently they are not sustainable. The new generation will have to reinvent the wheel again. The audience, in front of whom young and old struggle for recognition over the course of the entire performance, is thrilled.”
Moos van den Broek, www.theaterkrant.nl, 31.10.2022

“It is most powerful when the young refuse the concept of generations, when they present themselves as diversity per se. And the elders, who increasingly meet at funerals, now move to join them, gently leaning on them, but also becoming a support for some of the young bodies. But before this tips over into intergenerational sentimentality, here comes the hard truth: the elders can’t win this battle, they’re going to die first. But the success of the younger ones is also fleeting: they will eventually follow. The young man with the tattoo inspires a beautiful thought: to die with the feeling of first love that would be his dream. Who doesn’t share this wish, no matter how old?”
Andreas Berger, Tanznetz, 03.09.2022

“In “Dance Me!” the performance collective She She Pop pits two age groups against each other in the style of a TV show: Five 20-year-olds have to hold their own in various disciplines against an over-50 quintet. However, unlike TV shows such as “Little vs. Big” or “Let’s Dance”, there is nothing to win, only less to lose. Both teams run out of steam as the evening progresses (…). Those who have retained some residual energy at the end – in this case the younger ones – can watch the others die.”
Stefan Arndt, Neue Presse Hannover, 03.09.2022

“The performers themselves belong to the over-50 age group. They have invited colleagues around the age of 20, some even younger. The representatives of both age cohorts compete as two teams in a kind of game show, the prototype of which was developed by She She Pop’s parents’ generation – back when television was gaining colour. Classic elements of boxing are adopted, with blue and red boxing coats to identify the rivals, with gongs that ring in each new round, with luminous displays and a square as the fighting arena. (…) The older performers routinely demonstrate the advantages of early childhood music lessons and manually recreate the songs of their generation on accordion, electric guitar and flute. The younger ones let machines perform, at best turning the knobs. On the other hand, the younger ones’ repertoire of movements is more flexible; they adapt their rehearsed moves more smoothly to the music presented to them by their elders.”
Tom Mustroph, taz, 20.01.2022

“The music is produced live, that is one of the most charming ideas in this overall very charming and also rousing evening, that the (participants) all make music themselves. But also that it is exactly the music that is dear to their hearts (…), the (participants) thereby have very different ideas of music. (…) One notices that there are deep rifts and the evening does not glaze over them (…), it is a mutual declaration of love.”
André Mumot, Deutschlandfunkkultur, 20.01.2022

“The accompanying dance interludes demonstrate a great love of abandon and choreographic commitment, pop culture reminiscences, charming, Macarena song-inspired arm and hip swaying, trance and improvisation. Body strength and weight are danced into the floor, repetitive formations are charted to club sounds, sequences of movements by individual performers translated into group images over and over again. These are beautiful images for tensions in which individual lifestyles meet zeitgeist, socialization and economy.”
Stephanie Drees, Nachtkritik, 19.01.2022