Lindsey Stirling, dancing pop violinist famously adept at performing two ways at once, has always been her own artist—serving, simultaneously, as a fascinating glimpse into 21st-century Mormonism. Her skills recall the rigorous music lessons demanded of many Latter-day Saint children. Her joyful, idiosyncratic hybridization of dance and performance unleashes the weirdness in which our culture uniquely thrives, while her pop music tastes, often encouraged to young talents to optimize their possibilities of church ambassadorship, keep her solidly accessible.

Stirling’s upcoming album, Snow Waltz, her sixth overall album and second holiday release, represents her second project with Gladius, Grammy-nominated producer who’s worked with Demi Lovato and Justin Bieber, and will include collaborations with David Archuleta, Bonnie McKee, and Frawley. Stirling describes it: “I wanted to give the songs a whimsical, pixie-like feeling that’s quintessentially me.” 

What is “quintessentially” Stirling is harder to pin down than she here suggests. Amid a storm of pop covers and seemingly lab-grown viral music videos, Stirling’s self—the young woman balancing a pop career with loyalty to her religious community, the person who has spoken openly about struggles with depression and anorexia—can often seem to disappear. Who is she beneath the pop artists she draws from? The album’s first single, “Ice Storm,” steps back from the reflective chillstep of 2019’s Artemis and embraces the high drama and rock sensibilities of her earlier work. This change seems less like an artistic progression and more a cold-blooded marketing choice.

There’s little doubt that while pop music and Youtube survive, Lindsey Stirling will continue to thrive along with them. But in a career that has decades ahead, we might ask: How will Lindsey Stirling change? Will new collaborations bring out new, less-accessible dimensions? Will she free herself from covers and medleys and allow audiences in deeper? So far, Stirling’s inner self—a place far more complex than the casual listener might perceive—remains hidden in a storm of glittering ice.—Ted Bushman (Snow Waltz will be released October 7.)