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We were at school, eternal assembly bell after bell, while parents of classmates, relatives on the wrong plane, became chemical smoke, terrible snow in September.

After decades of living in Brooklyn, Pearline, the protagonist of Donna Hemans’ The House of Plain Truth, returns to Jamaica to nurse her father through his final days and reclaim her childhood home. Instead, she finds herself at odds with her sisters who view her as an outsider. On his deathbed, her father tasks her with solving the mystery of what happened to the children he was forced to abandon in Cuba while working as a migrant laborer sixty years before. With lyrical, contemplative prose and subtle revelations, The House of Plain Truth deftly unravels the economic and political pres...

When James Welling gets deeply involved in a project, he sees the subjects he’s interested in everywhere. His current body of work, Thought Objects, emphasizes textured surfaces. Some of his subjects include flowers, Brutalist architecture, a blue door in Paris, a sculpture table in Guilford, but his photographs do much more than convey subject matter, they open out into fields of metaphor and analogy.

Gridfailure’s latest release is Shards In The Wire, a self-released solo endeavor with Brenner on synthesizers, bass, guitar, and percussion; Lovecraftian titles such as “Upheaval Of The Foundation” and “Panic Azimuth” and growled, processed vocals intoning grim visions like “Rapturous clamor / Rhythmic expulsion / Convex pulsation / Tumulus tectonics / Subduction’s machination.”

The title curator Alex Glauber bestowed on this terrific show is a line from a 1994 Phish song, “Wolfman’s Brother”: The telephone was ringing That’s when I handed it to Liz She said, “This isn’t who it would be If it wasn’t who it is”