Celine Dion performs during the opening night of her Paris residency on Sept. 12, 2026. Nicolas Gerardin It’s 8:30 p.m. in Paris, and Celine Dion is late. In her absence, two giant monoliths tower over the audience. They are parted down the middle, like gates to another world.
“That was Oprah Winfrey,” said a British man in the row behind us. “Walking down there. And Michelle Obama is here.”
“Where?” Snapped a French journalist, who has already announced she is covering Dion’s debut performance in a month-long run. “Tell me if you see anyone else.”
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There are plenty of people to see — close to 45,000, in fact — and their combined energy is frenetic. Since there is no opening act, a hopeful ‘CE-LINE’ chant sounds at the end of every upbeat song on the warm-up playlist. Dion was scheduled to appear at 8 p.m., and fans are afraid to leave their seats in case the gates part. While some take the risk, bolting for the Plenitude Arena’s bar and bathrooms, most stay put. They’ve waited six years for the diva; they can spare another few minutes.
Just before 9 p.m., Celine Dion finally steps into the light. For the first time in six years, one of the world’s most iconic artists has officially taken the stage again, beginning the first of a nearly 30-night residency at the venue, a feat that seemed improbable just a few years ago, after Dion revealed back in 2022 that she’d been diagnosed with the rare neurological condition known as Stiff-Person Syndrome.
Her strapless black gown and tight chignon draw the eye to the kind of diamond amulet Rose might lose on the Titanic (it is a Boucherón, allegedly worth $5 million). Dion is radiant, resilient, and still silent, taking in the scene. When she launches into a rendition of French classic “On ne change pas,” her voice seems meek. It could be nerves, or the effects of the rare neurological disorder that has kept her from the stage for so long. Then, the camera cuts to a close-up: she is crying.
“I promised myself I wouldn’t cry but I don’t keep my promises,” Dion told the crowd in French, translating English, fanning her face while the crowd broke into spontaneous song. “Finally, it’s amazing we are all together. So here I am, singing for you, singing for me, singing for life.”
I glance surreptitiously at the journalist’s Slack chat to my left, already abuzz with videos of “On ne change pas.” “That actually made me tear up,” one responds. “She is so moving,” the journalist types back.
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Dion herself had long been determined to make this moment materialize. Back in 2024, she’d told the Today show as much, saying at the time that “I’m going to go back onstage, even if I have to crawl, even if I have to talk with my hands. I will. “Not just because I have to or because I need to, it’s because I want to. And I miss it.”
Celine Dion’s discography contains so many anthemic, heart-wrenching meditations on love lost or gained, it’s easy to imagine she’s singing about a romantic partner. But tonight, her impassioned performances of “Because You Loved Me” and, later, “My Heart Will Go On,” feels for and about her fans — especially the French. As evidence, she addresses the crowd almost exclusively in her first language, finishing each song with a gentle, Québécois-accented “merci beaucoup.”
“The set design is meant to look like a museum,” declares the British man, now our established source. “Because she’s a national treasure.”
It’s a strong theory. The brutalist structure behind Dion is not unlike King Philip II’s 12th-century fortress that braces the Louvre Palace. In fact, the Willo Perron-creative is a visual metaphor for Dion’s career — impressive, enduring — its encircling motion representing Dion’s “full circle” return to Paris. It gapes wider for the show’s second act, for which Dion reemerges in a gold-embellished black bodysuit and matching flared pants, preparing the crowd for a transition from Donna Summer’s “I Feel Love” into “I’m Alive,” the 2002 smash approaching a billion YouTube views. It’s not the only disco hit of the night. To the crowd’s delight, the singer also takes on the Eurythmics “Sweet Dreams.” It is the only time she’s outshone, with her almost-adolescent violinist delivering a solo so rallying that the crowd bursts into spontaneous cheers.
Dion seems to be at her best in celebration. Even reimagined with pitch-perfect runs, “Tale As Old As Time” (dueted with a male backup singer) felt perfunctory. When she approaches a newer entry in her catalog, folky-acoustic “The Chase” from 2019, she stops and starts over, apologizing to the crowd with a coy “excuse-moi” for an undecipherable mistake. During “That’s the Way It Is,” Dion hits her stride, fist raised in a triumphant pump.
The brief intermissions are straight out of Dune. Projected onscreen is Celine, along with an army of cloaked disciples, trekking through the desert in high winds toward an unknown destination. In act three, art comes to life. Reaching the stage, hoods down, the collective are revealed as a gospel choir, ready to replace Andrea Bocelli in Dion’s rendition of “The Prayer.” For the act’s finale, an iceberg crests, and Dion ascends solo in a magnificent feather coat. Snow falls on the ground seats, and Dion delivers one of her most ambitious feats of the night: Italian aria “La Wally.” It is startlingly beautiful, a showcase of Dion’s technical expertise and singular talent. This is what we came for.
Celine Dion performs at Plenitude Arena in the opening night of her residency in Paris on Sept. 12, 2026. Nicolas Gerardin Throughout her set, the singer seems effortless. There is no evidence of the painful cramps and rigidity symptomatic of ‘Stiff-Person Syndrome.” Watching her strut for two hours, or twist her body around ballet dancers in one of the show’s visuals — she reportedly does ballet and Pilates multiple times a week — it’s hard to believe she was ever debilitated by illness. Only when belting “All By Myself” in a corseted breastplate does she visibly puff with exertion. The transparency almost provides the audience some reprieve. Celine Dion is human, after all.
In her final moments on stage, the singer imparts wisdom gained from her four-decade-long career that, several years ago, seemed finished. She cites the power of self-belief, reminding the crowd of their capacity to overcome even the most insurmountable obstacles. In these trying times, it’s a message from which all 45,000 of us benefit, even Oprah and Michelle Obama.
Finally, after a series of graceful curtseys, Celine Dion stands upright. You can never keep a diva down.
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