Celine Dion, a hit in Las Vegas, takes the show on the road

It’s been a trip of firsts. I’d not seen Dion perform on tour until hitting this city so famously passionate for live music. Dion played Monday night, 11 years to the day from her last Nashville appearance, at the home arena of of the NHL’s Nashville Predators.

It also was the night before the fourth anniversary of the death of Dion’s husband and manager, Rene Angélil, the mastermind behind the superstar’s career and the modern-day Las Vegas superstar residency. Angélil’s legacy is omnipresent on the Dion tour.

Backstage staffers remark about how he always called each member of her touring entourage every Christmas. Dion carries the personal touch, too, and posted about her late husband: “There is not a day that goes by without me thinking about your beautiful smile. We miss you, thank you for watching over us. I love you. Céline xx…”

This is Dion’s first tour without Angélil, and her first across the U.S. in a decade. Fans in Nashville rejoiced in ending that wait. Bridgestone Arena was simply ignited, packed beyond its 13,000 capacity. Dion treasures the chance to reach her fans across the country and internationally. The explosion of affection that greeted her when she stepped onstage in a red-sequined dress, showing a lotta leg and a lotta smile, made it clear why.

Dion’s touring apparatus requires 20 trucks and buses and more than 160 employees at each venue. The musicians, including trombonist Nathan Tanouye and sax man Eric Tewalt of Las Vegas, take long bus trips covering up to 12 hours. That was the duration of the overnight drive from Nashville to Tampa, Florida, where Dion plays Wednesday night. The bus is outfitted with curtained, individual sleeping quarters, known as “coffins.” They look pretty cozy, actually.

The “Courage” tour has an emotional and (of course) financial momentum that is tough to shut down. Advice to those who want her back in residency in Las Vegas: Be patient. Dion is booked through the end of April. But she is expected to add dates this fall, and through the end of the year. She might even extend to next spring. There are still some regions of this planet — including South America — where Dion has not performed.

But Dion is building an estate at The Summit, a regal location and a commitment. She considers Las Vegas her lone home city. She routinely reminds of that affiliation during her road dates, joking on Monday night she had not been in Nashville for a decade. “Ten years — a lifetime! You know, maybe because it’s because they love me in the Nevada desert. But it doesn’t matter. I escaped!”

Dion fought off illness early in the tour and is making up postponed dates in Montreal in February. She trains before each show (her thin, muscular frame has drawn concern from fans that she is too skinny, which Dion has simply shrugged off with, ‘You can’t please everybody.”). She also performs two-hour vocal exercises, and an hourlong sound check, prior to every performance.

That does not factor in the actual show. Dion performs for about two hours, with such enduring highlights as “All By Myself,” The Power of Love,” “The Way it Is” and “My Heart Will Go On.” A couple dozen hovering, illuminated drones replace the famed water curtain at the Colosseum for the closing number.

All of it is familiar, and favorite, material from Dion’s Las Vegas show. Her world-class charisma, too, remains intact. After the show, Dion rushed to meet a 13-year-old girl from Nashville, name of Ava Kate Clark, backstage just before boarding an SUV to leave the arena.

Ava has Down Syndrome. She and her parents were pointed out to Dion’s security detail by a local Special Olympics official. The security guard then led Ava to a prime location backstage, in line with Dion’s musicians and support staff as they greeted her after another sparkling show.

Within minutes, just off the stage, Dion changed from the white-taffeta dress she wears to close the show to a black-and-white outfit from her Célinununu line. She ran to the young girl, hugged her, pumped her fists and posed for photos. Then she she was gone.

It was a fleeting, powerful moment. When the singer left, everyone looked at each other, as if wanting more. The great ones do that.

John Katsilometes’ column runs daily in the A section. His PodKats podcast can be found at reviewjournal.com/podcasts. Contact him at @reviewjournal.com. Follow @johnnykats on Twitter, @JohnnyKats1 on Instagram.