Suddenly there she was, after all this time.
Whitney Houston walked onstage at the end of Clive Davis’ annual pre-Grammy gala at the Beverly Hilton on Saturday in a leopard-print corset dress and a coat that made her look a bit like a big cat -- her hair a nimbus of curls, her smile a tolerant mask.
She didn’t waste time warming up with a minor hit. The big band’s flourishes signaled the start of her signature ballad, “I Will Always Love You.”
Everyone -- the entertainment business moguls schmoozing their way through this Grammy weekend; the stars for whom this annual fete is a way of renewing their membership in the glamour club, including Jennifer Hudson, Fantasia and Jamie Foxx; and even the servers still filling wine and water glasses -- stopped to listen. But Houston did not milk the moment. She simply sang, strongly but without melodrama. And before the high notes could challenge her, she moved on, switching to her 1983 hit “I Believe in You and Me,” the scariest part of the night behind her.
The rumor that the singer would appear at Davis’ party had solidified during rehearsals for the event, when Davis himself confirmed it to MTV. It was the latest scene in the story of pop’s most famous Henry Higgins and his wayward protégée, a woman who’s struggled with drugs and a disastrous marriage to the singer Bobby Brown, but who is finally back and ready to fight for her spot at center stage.
Houston’s short set, which also included her hip-hop-flavored “It’s Not Right but It’s Okay” and “I’m Every Woman,” a cover song that’s been part of her repertoire forever, enraptured the crowd. Hudson and Fantasia hugged the stage, waving their arms in testifying fashion. Foxx caught the whole thing on his camcorder.
Was Houston’s appearance worthy of the crowd’s joyous reception? On one crucial level, yes, though the voice that once seemed able to topple mountains had grown more subdued, and the high notes just weren’t there.
Houston, who had grown disturbingly thin in recent years, looked healthy. Most of her recent performances have happened outside the U.S., and the press reports haven't always been kind. Last night, she hit her cues and delivered the songs with confidence. This felt like the beginning of something, not its climax: a tentative though friendly rapprochement with the diva role Houston once defined.
Now in her 40s, she may simply never regain the astonishing range and power of her youth. Onstage, she seemed to be working on ways to sing distinctively though those natural gifts have slightly dimmed. The performance was enough to inspire hope that her next step won’t be disastrous.
Comebacks formed a defining arc within the long show.