The Weather Station

2022 likely appeared a banner year for Lindeman, who emerged from Toronto's vibrant folk scene. Her 2021 album Ignorance—a deeply personal but widely resonant reflection on climate change, or how we’ve learned to live alongside our own existential undoing—was one of that year’s most celebrated records. 2022, then, was a time of touring, travel, and activism alongside the release of Ignorance’s more austere companion, the beautiful How Is It That I Should Look at the Stars. But at an ostensible new professional peak, she was also going through a mental health crisis she mostly kept hidden. As Lindeman has done for at least 15 years, she turned to songwriting, combining pain, confusion, and flickers of distant hope with ideas about advertising, capitalism, and how we’re meant to feel very specific ways into pages and pages of lyrics. In the past, Lindeman mostly wrote about her past, turning backwards to gain perspective. But for Humanhood, she worked with the present as she tried to endure it. Humanhood, then, radiates with new urgency—and emerges as a sort of tether, offered up here for any of us else feeling disconnected from the vertiginous reality of right now

Much of Humanhood is a riveting and real document of what it means to be lost, to be hamstrung by confusion, unease, and grief for a period so long you begin to wonder if there is an end. It is rendered in linear fashion, so that we start alongside Lindeman on the floor and slowly try to peel ourselves from it.

Presented by CHALK.

This is an 14+ event