On March 12, I caught the final showing of Doom: House of Hope by Anne Imhof at Park Avenue Armory. I first came across the show through a New York Times review, and the imagery alone stopped me in my tracks. It wasn’t just performance art—it was music, dance, theater, and fashion colliding in a way that felt both overwhelming and completely seamless. The sheer ambition of it all was what drew me in. And seeing it live? It delivered
The entire drill hall of the Armory became a dystopian dreamscape. A massive jumbotron towered overhead, counting down ominously. Performers—most of them Gen Z, dressed in meticulously styled, on-trend looks—moved through the space with an effortless coolness. Some brooded, some danced, some sang or rapped. A fleet of black Cadillac Escalades doubled as both props and platforms.
There was no clear distinction between audience and performer; we were part of the world, free to wander, to follow different moments unfolding simultaneously. The show’s narrative structure loosely reworked Romeo and Juliet—but in reverse, beginning with their deaths and unraveling backward.
If you’ve ever seen a Kendrick Lamar, Beyonce or Rosalia concert and marveled at the high-concept staging, you’ve likely witnessed the influence of artists like Imhof. Doom felt like a glimpse into the root inspiration of so much contemporary performance art and music. It was haunting, chaotic, cinematic. My words can’t fully capture the experience, so I’m sharing photos and videos below. Check them out and immerse yourself in the world of Doom.
