The new paintings are more solemn and less playful, as though a grim reckoning has been reached and internalized. Setting the mood is Mess, the show’s most visually jarring piece, depicting a rec-room of half-melted and otherwise disintegrated inhabitants and accessories mainly in nauseous blue, red, and pink; only the sneakers are intact. Even the less lugubrious intimate scenes in Living Room, Home Alone, and That Room are still, respectively, diaphanous, claustrophobic, and haunted. In less dire scenarios, individuals have space again, but seemingly at the cost of social contact and warmth, as in the stark Tree Work and Windy Day in Lakewood, the shrouded Behind the Door, and the escapist Into the Woods. A signature Humphrey automobile does appear, in Crane, but it’s suspended, inert, useless. Images are less foreign than real people (Photo Shoot, Big Screen). The only happy beings are animals, who don’t know they are doomed (Colt, Afternoon Stroll).