Reality check

Lara Fabian and the Americanization of Europop

by Michael Freedberg

Lara Fabian, a strong-voiced chanteuse born in Belgium but living in Montreal, has just -- after six years of Quebec and French stardom -- released her first English-language CD, Lara Fabian (Sony). Already it has spawned a US hit, the diva-pop dance-beat song "I Will Love Again," where Fabian sounds a lot like Celine Dion: strong and frank and without a trace of fantasy or irony. Like Dion, Fabian loves in the real world; she means to be noticed and taken seriously for what she is. Just who she is, or feels herself to be, we're not shown. Still, for those with a taste for the regal, even polemic romanticism that Barbra Streisand brought to English-language pop, Fabian rings true. From a declarative "I Am Who I Am" to the funky diva cut "Till I Get Over You" and the plaintive "To Love Again" and "Givin' Up on You," Fabian says her say and proves her strength and endurance.

Because they're so true to the Streisand-Dion idiom, the 13 songs on Lara Fabian sound more convincing (if you're a Europop fan) than her three French-language studio CDs (Lara Fabian, Carpe diem, and Pure). To a Europop fan, Fabian's brute-force style -- and keyboardist Rick Allison's unatmospheric accompaniments -- sound much too way-it-is. The glory of female Europop -- its fanciful flights and introspective idealisms, as voiced by delicate, almost whispering sopranos like France Gall, Françoise Hardy, Mylene Farmer, and Zazie -- is that it does not accept or dwell in the what-is. It yearns, imagines, enlarges the emotional world, allowing the singer (and her fans) to reach out, on instinct and dreams, to a universe of possibilities. Europop is unreasonable but not unreasoning -- as the French saying has it, "Le coeur a ses raisons que la raison ne comprend pas" ("The heart has its reasons, which reason doesn't understand"). Fabian's here-I-ams on the French-language albums said no such thing. That they were able to sell hundreds of thousands of CDs to French-language pop fans speaks volumes about the scene's increasing Americanization.

Exhibit #1, of course, in this Americanization is Celine Dion, who began the adult years of her career as a fiery soul-singing stylist -- upper-register, delicate, and somewhat dreamy in the classic manner of Europop -- but made her English-language move early in the 1990s and pretty soon took over. Dion did not undermine Francophone pop taste -- indeed, D'eux and S'il suffisait d'aimer, both produced in France by Jean-Jacques Goldman, played to it. But by changing her style from the American matter-of-factness of her English-language CDs to her French CDs' Europop fancy, she compartmentalized it.

Dion's worldwide success narrowed the reach of Europop; and because reaching is central to the design of Europop, her work seriously damaged Europop's inner credibility. Europop achieves a sublimity every bit as soulful as the most righteous American soul music, but by other means; Dion's singing -- and Fabian's -- is just soulful enough, in the American soul manner (in "I Will Love Again" especially), to make a fan raise his or her hands and strut about, without having to imagine, dislocate, or fantasize.

But at least Dion has always asserted her Quebec patriotism. Even in US concerts she talks of how proud she is to be a Québecoise and to sing in French. Fabian is a Belgian with a Sicilian mother; she speaks four languages, and though she lives in Montreal, she has no such Quebec attachment. (If anything, her attachment is to Italian, in which language she sings "Adagio," the final cut on Lara Fabian.) She may have begun her career as a Francophone chanteuse, but her new songs sound less contrived, freer, stronger than any of her Francophone hits. This liberation finds its first revelation in her 1998 concert CD Lara Fabian Live, where she covers France Gall's most sublime ballad, "Évidemment," a duet in which two former lovers sing about trying to recapture romance. Gall was full of ecstasy and tears, in a sublime moment of intense bittersweetness. Fabian, committed only to the what-is, simply shrugs the song's shoulders -- for her, as B.B. King once put it, the feeling is gone.

That said, her first English CD takes up where Celine Dion (now abandoning the stage to be a mother) is leaving off. In gentle songs like "You Are My Heart," "Part of Me," "Love by Grace," and both versions of "Adagio," she offers a soft subtlety that's quite a bit more complex (and rhythmic) than Dion's single-minded affirmatives. Here too Allison's piano accompaniment opens up briefly into a flute-and-synthesizer passage that feels almost Europop. "In "Givin' Up on You," Fabian moves from gentleness to anger and then to an exultation that changes everything -- and she does it so smoothly, you accept it all as surely as she does. Most divas have one style; Fabian has two: lithe and fierce in "Till I Get Over You," brassy in "I Will Love Again." Dion's songs simplify reality; Fabian's do not. Her music rewards close attention and more than one listen.

The Boston Phoenix