Love, Longing and Communion: Weyes Blood’s Year of Radical Acceptance

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Natalie Mering, better known by her moniker Weyes Blood, has spent the last year performing in moody theatres, purpose built gig venues and cavernous concert halls as part of her In Holy Flux Tour. Mering’s presence on stage is haunting; her melodic, potent voice swallows you whole, and as she prances across the candle-lit stage in her signature floor-length Proenza Schouler dress, her heart literally glows. Earlier this month, at Mering's 110th show of the year at the Eventim Apollo in London, I experienced this spiritual awakening first-hand as she belted out songs of narcissism and detachment, of love and longing, of the inevitable toll of the human condition.

"One of my favourite parts of touring is seeing how each city connects with my music; sometimes, the mood is sombre, but playing in Spain and Portugal on this run has been so fun because they turn my melancholic show into a crazy, rowdy party where everyone sings along," the LA-based artist tells me over the phone. I catch Mering en route to Glasgow, another city she considers a highlight on her tour. "The audiences in Glasgow are so crazy; they love music; they scream and shout. It's incredible to perform to a crowd like that."

Since she released her latest album, And in the Darkness, Hearts Aglow, where Mering sings tenderly of personal sorrows while grappling with issues of modern-day alienation and climate change, she's played host to thousands of aching hearts who view her music as a temporary salve in a time of loneliness, crisis and political uncertainty. "I created this incredibly introspective record, and releasing it made me feel vulnerable and overexposed. I remember wanting to make that uplifting dance number that would launch everyone out of the pandemic, but that was the opposite of what I was feeling," she confesses. "I'm so glad I stuck to my gut instinct and was honest about my feelings and the sounds I wanted to hear. It's been incredible to watch the songs come alive on tour." 

Over the last year, the singer has crafted alternate realities through her music and the affecting visuals that accompany it. For "Twin Flame", Mering drew on her love for films as she stalked the halls of a mediaeval castle in a music video inspired by kitschy horrors of the 1970s. In what the singer calls a “dystopian technicolour dance number” for "It's Not Just Me, It's Everybody", Mering tap dances to lyrics of fragile mornings and overwhelming changes in an outfit reminiscent of a sailor's uniform. In her live performances, this visual language remains intact as each song is accompanied by light arrangements. "I was very intentional about the atmosphere I wanted to create and hired a lighting specialist to tour with us. We got a package of lights and really began putting the show together to capture the theatre of each song visually." 

"I loved the idea of recreating the album cover in person and playing with the visual connotations of darkness and light. On stage, I wear custom outfits made by Proenza Schouler, which captures light beautifully. Jack McCollough and Lazaro Hernandez reached out to me ahead of the tour and wanted to design something that would make me look like a heroine or a superhero with the chest that glows," Mering enthuses.

"Before this tour, I would always perform in suits. It was my stage uniform, and that first night of wearing a dress was uncomfortable; I had no idea how to move. Over the course of touring, I've grown to love it. The dress is now my favourite outfit to perform in. I have so much room to play, twirl and dance."

While each song elicited strong, visceral reactions from the crowd, Mering's live rendition of "God Turn Me Into a Flower", backdropped by a video directed by the documentarian Adam Curtis, was particularly hypnotic. Her powerful alto, accompanied by Curtis's archival footage that shifted rapidly from one clip to another, brought the crowd to a sober standstill.

"I think one of the reasons we feel so detached and miserable as a culture is how we see ourselves as separate from nature and our communities.”

Clips of people dancing and lovers embracing in airports were interspersed with tears being wiped away and images of violent brutality. In the seconds that followed her performance, a whisper in the crowd labelled it cathartic; another announced the goosebumps on their arms. Mering reiterates these feelings. "Writing and performing "God Turn Me Into a Flower" will always be special to me. It came out of me reading Christopher Lasch and his writing on modern-day narcissism and how it seeps into the culture of our times," she explains, citing the myth of Narcissus where he turns into a flower. 

"I think one of the reasons we feel so detached and miserable as a culture is how we see ourselves as separate from nature and our communities,” Mering says, as we wrap up our call. “It's this imaginary externality that makes us strive for validation from social media. It sounds really cheesy and cliche, but people who strive for validation online will never get it; it has to come from yourself."

Words: Zara Aftab