îA story we’ve all been waiting for: Céline Dion’s new ballad, “Dansons,” written by Jean-Jacques Goldman in 2020, has just been released. What does it say about the world’s latest mega-star? What does it say about us, willing to pay a fortune to be in the same huge concert hall as her?
What has Céline Dion become synonymous with? Following the frenzy caused by the announcement of her upcoming concerts, a new piece arrives. What should we make of this “Dansons”? And is it even allowed to have an opinion on it? Like most current stars in pop or cinema, Céline Dion sets the pace and tempo for the media, using her social networks to communicate, announce, and speak to her fans. The distance no longer exists, enthusiasm is key, especially since her battle with a documented illness, her appearance at the Paris Olympics over a year ago, and her almost complete absence from the media.
Power and modesty did a dance in Céline Dion’s latest musical release. The allure was spectacular just a few days ago as an advertising and social media campaign heralded her return to the stage next September. During ticket sales, 7 million people logged on for 350,000 available seats. Would the Rolling Stones do better? Will Rosalía succeed one day? For now, the Canadian singer that France watched grow up is taking it all. She underlines her power by quietly releasing a just-recorded track, blending great modesty and powerful emotion. The song, a slow-paced ballad with no grandiose gestures, written by Jean-Jacques Goldman, captures the current state of the world, even though it was penned in 2020, the year of Covid.
Six years later, the song resonates with the time of the virus, Céline Dion’s illness, the loss of her husband, and the current state of the world, seemingly on the brink of exploding or imploding. Deeply melancholic, led by a piano and violins, the subdued track is guided by the singer’s deep and calm voice, avoiding high notes or performances, even though you can sense her restraint, occasionally trying to raise her voice as she usually would. The piece is titled “Dansons,” but it’s nothing like “Let’s Dance” or “Dancing Queen” – it unveils a sense of sadness and detachment from the times, almost like a last refuge: dance as a place to exist, to remain safe, saved. Listening to it, delicately balanced, the question lingers on how Céline Dion will manage all her concerts, given her known fragile health. Will it be like Dalida, to “die on stage”? Or rather, as Jean-Jacques Goldman sang, to “pursue my dreams to the end”? Whatever it may be, what Céline Dion tells us perhaps is our common desire, on the edge, to keep on dancing, to find a renewed meaning in our ways of being together. Even if it means paying 500 euros for a concert ticket.
