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she did there?) “My mom put all her dreams aside because we needed
her at home.” Music was the family’s lifeblood. They performed Von
Trapp–style when Céline was still a baby. At 12, she recorded a French
song cowritten by her mom and brother Jacques. Her mother then sent
the tape to Angélil, already an established manager in Quebec, who im-
mediately registered Céline’s potential. Hers wasn’t just any other voice.
It was a voice so promising, Angélil famously mortgaged his home to
ensure it reached the masses. A voice so powerful it would drive sales
of over 245 million albums worldwide. And a voice so astonishing and
singular it would inspire the building of its own $95 million, 4,298-seat,
state-of-the-art arena.
The Colosseum at Caesars Palace was specifically constructed for
Céline’s first Vegas outing, A New Day. The show opened in March
2003, ran for nearly five years, and remains the city’s most successful
residency to date, cashing in at over $385 million. When it was first
announced, however, “people thought we were absolutely bazooka
for performing here!” Céline says. At the time, long runs in Vegas were
considered a death knell to relevancy, the fast track to early retirement.
“I was supposed to be here for two months, maybe two years? I don’t
know, I don’t count. I’ve been here a while.”
She took a four-year break from performing to
have her twins and care for her husband before
returning to the stage in March 2011 with her
current eponymous show. This month, on June
8 to be exact, she’ll take her final bow. In the 16
years since everyone bet against her, she’s not
only obliterated their expectations but, most
importantly, ushered in a new era of music’s
most relevant artists—Lady Gaga, Cardi B, and
Drake—settling into Sin City for extended stays.
I tell Céline she is basically the mayor of
this town. “You think so?” she asks. A rare cold
snap has just hit Vegas. “I’m starting to believe
it, because it snowed a lot!” She laughs, hard,
then pretends to be a local. “‘Céline Dion, Cana-
dian! Quebecois! You’re bringing snow to Vegas!
What are you doing to us?’ They’re blaming
me!” Then again, Las Vegans can’t complain
too much. Céline also makes it rain. Millions
upon millions of dollars have poured into the
city since she set up shop.
What Mickey Mouse is to Disney World,
Céline Dion is to Vegas. Hear her echoing
through McCarran International Airport. See
her plastered tens of stories high, gazing upon all as they Uber onto the
Strip. “What brings you to Vegas?” I overhear a receptionist at Caesars
Palace ask a German woman checking into the hotel. “Céline!” she
nearly shouts. “I came all this way to see Céline!”
It’s Tuesday, three days after our interview and Céline’s first night
back at the Colosseum after a monthlong hiatus. I meet the show’s
technical director, Bob Sandon, in the theater’s wings around 5:30 p.m.
Céline is center stage, mid–sound check. “I get wings to fly, I feel like
I’m alive,” she sings, her pitch so perfect I just assume it’s a recorded
track. It’s not. The show starts in two hours, and Sandon is preternat-
urally calm. He’s been with the Colosseum since before the venue was
built and has overseen its slate of productions (Elton John, Cher, and
Mariah Carey, among others) ever since. A New Day was complicated,
he explains. It was more Céline–meets–Cirque du Soleil, with 40-plus
dancers and acrobats on a tricky inclined stage. By comparison, Céline
is a relatively stripped-down affair. Apart from the enormous LED
screens (the largest of their kind when the space opened), it’s just the
singer flanked by a full orchestra and a few backup singers. Much better
for showcasing the main draw, which is, of course...
“That voice, really,” says Zowie from Dublin. She and her friend
Fiona, both 23, are sitting next to me at the show. I’ve asked them what
they love so much about Céline. “Everyone loves her, don’t they?” Fiona
asks rhetorically. “She’s brilliant.” Zowie’s fondness began when she “lis-
tened to her music with me mam.” Dressed in Kardashian-esque biker
shorts and stacked wedge heels, they’re among the younger members
of the audience, not counting a few kids in princess dresses.
For many, if not most, people here Céline is a bucket-list item. A night
they’ve been saving and planning for for months—years, even. Photog-
raphers clad in usher uniforms flatter couples, friends, mothers, and
daughters into posing for pictures available for purchase. In the lobby,
fruity “Beauty and the Beast” and “Encore Un Soir” cocktails sell for
$28 each. (Zowie and Fiona opted for the “I’m Your Angel.”) Want a
program? That’ll be $30, please. This is all part of the Céline Experience.
About the show: Opening with “I’m Your Lady” (naturally), and
for roughly 100 minutes thereafter, Céline gives the audience exactly
what they came for, one greatest hit after another. She briefly stumps
for Vegas, touting its shopping and various shows and “Did I mention
shopping?,” and thanks the crowd, so much, for choosing her. She
clocks miles of her swaggering, sashaying, and salsa-ing across the
stage. What Céline lacks in choreography, it more than makes up for in
the sheer physicality and facial expressions of its star. Céline shoulder-
presses key changes, and she lunges, back-
bends, and squats—so many deep squats—into
crescendos. She whips and twirls her micro-
phone cord, a delightfully analog dance partner.
And she pounds her chest—a signature move—
fist-pumping her pipes to their full capacity.
(“By the way, don’t do that, okay?” she tells the
crowd. “I’ve been doing this for 30 years, and
look what happened to me!,” gesturing to her
nonexistent cleavage.) At one point, during a
cover of Prince’s “Purple Rain,” she actually
sings a guitar solo. The whole production builds
up to the show’s, er, splashiest number. Céline,
standing high on a pedestal above the stage,
performs “My Heart Will Go On,” enclosed by
a curtain of water—two thousand gallons of it
raining down around her.
Back on the night of our interview, it’s late—
11:30 p.m.—when we sit down to talk. She runs
on Vegas time. Surely she needs a reset. Nope.
“Céline Dion is work work work work work,”
she sings. She’s in the process of recording a
new album. “I have about 675 songs, and I want
to sing them all!” she tells me. “I had a great time
when I recorded 20 years ago, but now I really
feel like I can speak up. If I’m not part of my own project, what am I
doing here? Crying at Valentino and spending money on clothes?” Last
November, she launched Celinununu, a line of gender-neutral children’s
clothing in partnership with Nununu. Her aim is to help “young kids to
be who they are, express themselves.” And, according to her, the clothes
smell great. “They have a scent! I don’t know, go to the store—they smell
amazing.” Her oldest, René-Charles, is 18 now. He’s protective of her,
as she is of all three of her boys. “I want them to be good kids, good
men,” she says. “Later in life, maybe they’ll come to me and say, How
am I going to find my right woman? Well, who are you? Do you respect
yourself? Are you generous? Are you kind? Are you aware?”
Two movies about Céline’s life are currently in development. And
on September 18, she’ll kick off her Courage World Tour. The lights will
have barely cooled at the Colosseum before she’s back in front of her
adoring fans. Still, she says that the end of Céline is “bittersweet, because
it is a closure. This whole project started as a dream for René and me, but
you know what? It’s a book. And in life, there are many books. So maybe
we’ll meet again and talk about the next book, I hope?” For now, she has
no plans to relocate. “I’m not even thinking about leaving. I think I can
stay as long as I want, if Las Vegas will want me to stay. I’ll ask them.”
The answer is obvious. Vegas needs the rain—and baby, she’s
worth it. ▪
“IT’S LIKE
I’VE BEGUN ALL
OVER AGAIN.
I AM A WOMAN
ASSUMING
HER OWN DESTINY,
FULL OF ENERGY
AND IN LOVE
WITH LIFE. IT’S
NEVER TOO
LATE TO START.”