Madonna’s ‘Celebration’ Show Is Very Late but Worth the Wait at U.S. Tour Launch: Concert Review

Hello, Brooklyn. Is Madonna in the house? It’s after 10 p.m. on Wednesday night, and the Material Girl is nowhere to be found on the first hometown stop of her career-retrospective “Celebration” tour.

The promenade down memory lane — by Madonna, for Madonna — kicked off in London in October, and is now belatedly on its North American leg (which, as anyone reading this probably knows, was scheduled to launch last July but was postponed just weeks before after the singer was found unconscious, reportedly due to a bacterial infection). So some people have been waiting six months for this show. If only Madonna would — to quote another great poet of his time, T.S. Eliot — hurry up please, it’s time! Or, to quote Madonna herself: Time goes by so slowly for those who wait…

Photos: Ricardo Gomez

The vibe inside the Barclays Center had started off with puffs of pot smoke and Fire Island-circuit, party-ready club music curated by DJ Honey Dijon. Costumed fans decked out in glitter, Madonna T-shirts, hoodies and even a “Like a Virgin” wedding dress grew increasingly impatient. It’s a power move for a stadium artist to keep his or her concert-goers waiting … and waiting … and waiting, and it’s certainly one that Madonna is (in)famous for. But this isn’t the ’90s, and New York is no longer the city that never sleeps. People were starting to get drowsy. Those gummies had started to kick in.   

Finally, at 10:45 p.m., the evening’s host, Bob the Drag Queen, sauntered onstage in a pink Marie Antoinette-like ruffled gown. As he invited fans to travel back to 1978 New York City, with “Madonna at 19 years old,” he declared, “This is not just a show. This is not just. This is not just a partttty. It’s a celebration, bitches!” 

Photos: Ricardo Gomez

And with that, Madonna manifested herself in a black kimono, gyrating to her hit “Nothing Really Matters,” from 1998’s “Ray of Light” album, undoubtably one of her best records. Despite being a get-on-your-feet dance party, Madonna’s mind on this greatest-hits tour seemed to be fixated on one theme: time. It’s perhaps the only thing that this perfectionist can’t control. Before the show was over — at the very late hour of 1 a.m. — Madge had not only marveled at her 40 years as the queen of pop, she’d pretended that she was a young teenager who couldn’t get into a club (as if a bouncer wouldn’t know the name Madonna), mourned a dancer lost to a drug overdose during “Holiday,” and even shimmied with the Grim Reaper while belting out the Bond theme “Die Another Day.”  

The song, and the dance, felt apt: Madonna may have dodged fate only very recently. She addressed the bacterial infection in a rambling speech to fans, between songs, early on, standing next to an actor dressed as Madonna, meant to represent her as a young woman.

Photos: Ricardo Gomez

“Oh my god,” the real Madonna said. “It’s so great to be back in New York. You have no idea. The enthusiasm, the joy, it’s just coming out of my pores. It’s amazing. Touch me right now. Please someone, touch me.” Madonna, at 65, looked at her younger doppelganger. “Touch me. Yes. Thank you. So uh — the relief. People can speak my language, the language of c–t! Uh, I don’t know where to begin. First of all, no one is more surprised that I have made it this far than me. Yeah, four decades, motherfuckers! And I got to tell you, I didn’t think I was going to make it this summer, but here I am. Thank you for having me. Thank you for standing by me, for your support, your love.

“You don’t understand — the love from a New Yorker is like making a big fat smelly rat come up to you and put your arms around you: ‘I made it.’ I’m not comparing you guys to rats,” she continued. “I know that sounded weird. First of all — I mean, fifth of all, I want you to meet myself. Have you met myself? She was little bit shy back in the day. Let’s see if she’s ticklish.” The real Madonna poked the other Madonna, hugged her, and then seemed peeved to be sharing the spotlight, so she ordered her to sit down. 

Photos: Ricardo Gomez

Madonna, after all, doesn’t co-headline with anyone — not even herself. But for all that she’s changed music, she may, today, be chasing the descendants her fame helped create. “The Celebration Tour” is coming at the end of the year defined by three other superstar artists on the road — Taylor Swift’s “Eras” tour, which became the first concert in history to gross $1 billion globally; Beyonce’s “Renaissance”; and SZA’s “SOS” tour. In all honesty, “The Celebration Tour” doesn’t fall in the same league as those transcendent fan experiences — and it’s also no match for Madonna’s greatest concert of this century, 2005’s “Confessions” tour, based on her tenth studio album “Confessions on a Dance Floor.”

But Madonna is still Madonna, and that’s probably enough even if the “Celebration” show doesn’t always stick the landing. Throughout the night, there are too many costume changes to count, yet Madonna is best when she puts the music front and center, focusing on her vocals instead of trying to outdance her competition. The booming acoustics inside the Barclays Center may have also thrown her off her game, as Madonna asked fans if they could hear her, and she complained at one point, “It’s an echo bowl in here.”

Photos: Ricardo Gomez

One of the best moments of the night featured Madonna flying through the air as she sings the ballad “Live to Tell,” against a collage of photos of men who died of AIDs. It’s not only a poignant reminder of friends Madonna lost, but her place in queer history. She still has a gravelly grit to her voice when she belts out “I Love New York” with a guitar — and could there be a better setting for the song? She shows the classic Madonna insouciant wit as she dons a cowboy hat and leather jacket for “Don’t Tell Me.” She knows her target audience when she wears a Pride flag as a cape, during a mashup of “Don’t Cry For Me Argentina,” from “Evita.” And watching Madonna soar above a strobe-lit stadium as she performs “Ray of Light” is alone worth the price of admission.

It’s enough to make you pine for a time when New Yorkers could really stay out all night dancing to Madonna on a weeknight. At least, among those willing to wait to be transported, the indestructible Madonna could give us a ride in her time machine.

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