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Bathos, as a literary device, points critically to the juxtaposition of the sublime with the frivolous. Despite its etymological origin connoting depth, the term now serves as an eviscerating description of a different kind of nadir: the unwittingly shallow, sincere, failing attempt at achieving the profound. 


Bathos, a series of fifteen paintings in linear narrative format, takes on its name in self-deprecating fashion, aware that its juggling of themes and formal concerns both high and low risks resulting in the anticlimactic. Created following a ten-year hiatus from painting, after a period of significant personal upheaval, and amidst the backdrop of a pandemic world under a seemingly constant state of political, ecological, and existential threat, Bathos evokes themes both personal and universal, traumatic and mundane. 


Commonplace, oft-overlooked objects sit isolated in settings eerily unoccupied save for the insidious, innominate presence that serves as the series’s figurative core. This anonymous figure in pink—a hue rare in nature and agreeable in small amounts but disquieting in abundance—takes such narrative and pictorial significance, leaving few clues to its meaning, purpose, or intent. 

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