For Dion, singing Édith Piaf wasn’t just a patriotic choice – it was, seemingly, a defiant one.The Associated Press
I’ve never been a Celine Dion fan. It’s not for lack of effort: I’ve spent plenty of time listening to selections from her 27 studio albums and even attended the Toronto stop of her 2008′s Taking Chances tour. But for so long, her performative stances, grandiose riffs and melodramatic phrasing felt, to me, as unmodern as the lyrics “‘Cause I am your lady / And you are my man.”
My come-to-Celine moment finally arrived while watching the opening ceremony of the Paris Olympics. After staying away from the stage since 2021, Dion sang Hymne à l’amour, a track penned and popularized by Édith Piaf. For Dion, singing Piaf wasn’t just a patriotic choice – it was, seemingly, a defiant one. Lyrics from the song are appropriate for the Olympic context, but teem with personal affirmation for Dion herself, especially in lines such as “I will go to the end of the world” and “We will have for us, eternity.” On that night, from that tower, they felt like Dion’s own words.
The one-song presentation came nearly two years after Dion announced she had been diagnosed with a rare neurological disorder – stiff-person syndrome (SPS) – that rendered her unable to continue the rigour of choreography, let alone singing. The severe muscle spasms caused by the condition were so intense that they resulted in broken ribs. Dion went on to withdraw from the public eye, cancelling tour dates and instead of being on stage or in the studio, undergoing months of gruelling physical and vocal therapy.
Dion waves to fans outside her hotel ahead of the Paris 2024 Olympics.Gonzalo Fuentes/Reuters
Her Olympic tour de force should be considered one of show business’s most carefully curated roadmaps. With the help of crucial artistic partners and many health professionals, the presentation was a success. It allowed for another side of her artistry to reveal itself, one which showcased just how much of a fighter Dion is.
Her comeback is reminiscent of noteworthy diva rebounds of the past. It brought to mind Aretha Franklin standing in for Luciano Pavarotti at the 1998 Grammy Awards, thundering at the constellation of stars in their seats at Radio City Music Hall, reaffirming her Queen of Soul status and legacy by singing Nessun Dorma just hours after learning it.
It mirrored the gamble Cher took by overtly manipulating her voice with Auto-Tune for 1998′s Billboard-topping Believe (thus popularizing the technique as a desired effect), even though her record company staunchly warned her against releasing it.
Dion’s resurgence also brings to mind Madonna’s famously postponed Celebration tour victory lap (earning the icon more than US$225-million), completed after she was hospitalized for a life-threatening bacterial infection.
And Dion’s landmark performance offered an emotional complexity reminiscent of the quiet-yet-mighty power of Annie Lennox and her zeitgeist-changing Diva album of 1992 (a debut disc she released even when execs told her that, at the age of 37, she was far too old to be a solo artist).
These divas had something to prove, livelihoods to lose, reputations to uphold. As cultural critic Wayne Koestenbaum wrote in his book The Queen’s Throat, which analyzes some of history’s greatest operatic singers: “To come back is to push against silence and ignominy, to move from seclusion and confinement into a wide open scornless space of total commitment, self-exposure, and risk.”
In other words, successful comebacks don’t just showcase a rise to a new career occasion; they flip the script on the perception, the pathos and the potency of diva-hood. They showcase risk. And, if done properly, they can re-imagine a persona – and win over naysayers (like myself).
In her new documentary, Dion speaks candidly about her health setbacks.Prime Video
In the recently released documentary I Am: Celine Dion, the 56-year-old speaks candidly about living with SPS and the months of setbacks she had breathing, swallowing and walking. She expresses on camera the pain she endures when her muscles spasm, rebelling against her. In an almost religious moment, Dion calls on what many consider the template of all divas, Maria Callas, to give her strength, while holding one of the opera soprano’s necklaces (a gift from Dion’s late husband, René Angélil). Callas had her own health issues with her voice and, famously, a battle with the media who constantly tried to undermine her by focusing on her off-stage temperament, weight loss and public breakup with Aristotle Onassis, rather than on her artistic prowess.
The press has also had its tug of war with Dion. For example, tabloids often criticized her body, deeming her far too thin. When she appeared on CNN in 2005 to feverishly discuss her concerns over Hurricane Katrina, she was mocked for her passionate pleas. A couple years later, London’s Observer reported that Angélil gambled as much as US$1-million per week, igniting years of speculation that her longstanding tenure in Vegas was set in motion to pay off his tab (Caesars Palace eventually proved the claims to be false).
Also like Callas, Dion’s collaborators were key to the success of her Olympic showcase. As composer and Olympic musical director Victor le Masne confirmed to the French newspaper Ouest-France, Dion opted out of the safety of a pre-recorded vocal track – she sang live.
She also opted in to being dressed by a rebel: Dion was costumed by Maria Grazia Chiuri, the first female creative director at Dior in the house’s 75-year existence. Chiuri – the mastermind behind a headline-making Dior T-shirt emblazoned with Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s famous quote “We should all be feminists” – is one of the most outspoken feminist designers to have ever worked in fashion. Her past collections have pursued a recalibration of what she once discussed in an interview with The Guardian as “fashion’s problem with the male gaze,” even taking inspiration from the uniforms female soldiers wore in the Mexican revolution.
Partnering up with the right team to conceive a comeback for fans and non-fans such as Dion’s is something to be studied. Former chart-topping artists such as Katy Perry, Justin Timberlake, Jennifer Lopez and Halsey (who recently posted she “regrets coming back” on her tumblr page) could learn something from Dion’s playbook. Without a repurposed oversaturation of familiar sounds, aesthetics or gestures, Dion’s Olympic performance symbolized a healing moment for the singer, one that achieved a true victory with few critiques.
The five-time Grammy winner set herself apart from both the ceremony and her past, offering a commanding, tranquil pause in the Vegas-like spectacle happening below her. When she took to Instagram after her performance, her post seemed to speak to both the Olympics and of herself: “I’m so happy to be celebrating these amazing athletes, with all their stories of sacrifice and determination, pain and perseverance.” Indeed, her own life’s narrative could not be better suited to a central theme of the Olympics: triumph over adversity.
Editor’s note: (Aug. 8, 2024): This article has been updated to correct the spelling of the author's name.