Who better than a rampaging, belligerent, and fairly foul-mouthed soccer team in the changing room after a victorious bout on the pitch to give the measure of such a testosterone-laden environment? The retort is immediately snide and obvious; and so it is with the soccer atmosphere and in such a changing room that this research begins, on and with individuals who are in essence and stereotypically reluctant to display the faintest emotion or gesture that could in the slightest way be associated with femininity. They sing with thunderous, low voices; they dance short, basic and well-paced sequences, they undress and it is here with their naked bodies that the men begin to parody anything that could be considered as modesty, camaraderie, or connivance of the other sex. Initially, they play at being them; they then ridicule them, experience them, and finally wallow and lose themselves in them… with glee.

Nowadays, numerous researchers are focusing on gender studies in order to decipher what some consider as a contemporary phenomenon (but is this really so?), namely, the appearance of blurred identities, the shifts from feminine to masculine or vice versa, sex changes and other gender-related soul-searching. It is in this spirit that WaW undertakes to captivate audiences with artists, masculine in a caricatured way, who question what could be interesting about recognizing the other in oneself. As well as a heightened dynamism and vitality, humour is ever-present, as are tenderness and a genuine interest in what it means to be a woman’s body, promptly revealed through interplaying movements and attitudes, by trying out clothes or applying make-up. This continues right up to the finale, which is transformed into a great witches’ sabbath reminiscent of those persecutions of which women were victims––and meant to better subjugate them.