In 2017, then Observer staff reporter Alanna Martinez wrote the following about acclaimed German visual artist and choreographer Anne Imhof’s work: “Imhof’s durational performances frequently feature a weary cast of Millennial-aged dancers, often clad in athleisure gear, who roll about, strut, stand, smoke and whatnot, with a considerable amount of apathy, over the course of several hours and days.” Fast forward to 2025 and the Park Avenue Armory and the athleisure is there and the smoke is there and the standing and the strutting. Replace the Millennials with weary Gen Z actors, dancers, singers and skaters, and DOOM: HOUSE OF HOPE, Imhof’s three-hour, loose reframing of Romeo and Juliet in the Park Avenue Armory’s cavernous Wade Thompson Drill Hall looks like more of the same.
Critics report that the apathy is certainly there in this cross-disciplinary show that we categorized as dance in our spring stage preview, for lack of a better way to describe it. Maybe pseudo-ballet would have been more appropriate? Hyperallergic’s review of DOOM (which it likened to an extended Balenciaga ad) referred to “zombie-like teenagers” while ARTnews described the performers as “zombified.”
Observer’s David Cote advised ticket holders to “wear your dancin’ shoes,” but those intent on checking out this too-cool-for-school spectacle of spoken word, choreography, music and skating should probably wear their standin’ shoes. Audience members lucky enough to find their way to the edge of the action can sit on the floor; everyone else stands shoulder to shoulder as a massive countdown clock on the jumbotron ticks down the minutes. Shorter viewers might want to consider platforms.
Imhof’s distinctive aesthetic—dystopian, disaffected, fashion-forward, young and hot—made it into DOOM, but by many accounts, the cultural commentary that made Imhof famous did not. On the other hand, it’s worth pointing out that the piece was particularly ambitious, more theater piece than performance art. There’s a lot going on, making it all too easy to miss the forest for the trees.
The hope alluded to in the title, Imhof told the New York Times in an article that goes into her process, lies in the fact that she tells the star-crossed lovers’ tale backward, insofar as she tells a story (versus letting the audience watch private personal drama unfold).
Those looking for something like 2017’s Faust, Imhof’s durational pseudo-opera staged at the Venice Biennale, which Observer lauded for its delightful health goth aesthetic and which won the artist a Golden Lion, may find themselves surprised at how different this work is.
Of course, DOOM, like all art, exists in part to provoke a reaction, and it has certainly done that, with some calling it infantile or vapid while others call it impactful, beautiful and complex. A good reminder that not every artwork is for every viewer. Those new to Imhof’s work or otherwise new to this type of performance piece may find it a relaxing to give oneself over to the consciousness of the crowd or engaging to mull over the questions raised or energizing to be part of a shared experience this over the top. Those who’ve come of age in a world that demands everything be ‘an experience’ will no doubt find the piece post-worthy. (Indeed, the most positive reviews of Imhof’s DOOM seem to come from social media—make of that what you will.) And if you’re simply curious, it’s not a bad way to spend three hours. Just be sure you have the stamina to stand for the duration.
Anne Imhof’s DOOM: HOUSE OF HOPE is at the Park Avenue Armory through March 12.
