"Venturing Outside the Studio, Mariah Carey Proves Her Mettle"

	Mariah Carey had everything to prove when she performed on Friday 
night at Madison Square Garden. Although she has sold millions of albums 
since her first one appeared in 1990, her public performances were 
scarce, confined mostly to television appearances. Instead of working her 
way up the live circuit, she is starting at the top, touring arenas. With 
her triumphant New York concert, she's going to make it much harder to 
convince fledgling singers that they need to pay dues.
	If Ms. Carey was nervous, it didn't show. Smiling and strutting 
across the stage, moving easily to the music without obvious 
choreography, she combined the assurance of an arena-scale pop performer 
with the casualness of a suburban girl-next-door. Chatting with an 
audience that was proud to claim her as Long Island native, she announced 
that profits from her current single, "Hero," would be donated to the 
families of victims of last week's rampage on the Long Island Rail Road.

	Ms. Carey's career -- guided by her husband, Tommy Mottola, who 
is also the president of her recording company -- has been carefully 
calculated. She arrived in the wake of Whitney Houston, whose ceaseless 
positive, gospel-charged ballads and dance songs were best sellers. Ms. 
Carey worked with some of Ms. Houston's producers, trying to reach the same 
audience, which bridges romantic adults and dancing teenagers; on her 
first album, she even rapped. Unlike Ms. Houston, however, Ms. Carey 
writes her own lyrics and collaborates on her music and production.
	Video clips made the lithe, curly-maned Ms. Carey a familiar 
presence, singing secular gospel of self-esteem and satisfaction, with 
the singer "feeling emotion higher than the heavens above." And when, 
after two albums, it began to seem odd that she had not given live 
concerts, she shrewdly performed on "MTV Unplugged"; the show was 
released as a live EP. With a new studio album, "Music Box" (Columbia), 
it was time to tour.

	Ms. Carey's concert was about mastery, not innovation. It 
followed arena-pop conventions, with costume changes (all black until a 
red evening dress for the Christmas encore), a number sung seated at the 
edge of the stage, and cues for audience participation. Her co-producer, 
Walter Afanasieff, played keyboards in her band. A gospel choir appeared 
for a few songs, and male dancers arrived for uptempo tunes; wisely, Ms. 
Carey didn't join the chorus line, treating the concert more as a vocal 
showcase than as a spectacle. Her songs also follow conventions: 
big-build ballad ("I Don't Wanna Cry"), girl-group update ("Dreamlover"), 
uplifting pop-gospel homily ("Make It Happen"), dance workout 
("Emotions"). But they are good-natured, catchy vehicles for vocal display.
	Beyond any doubt, Ms. Carey's voice is no studio concoction. Her 
range extends from a rich, husky alto to dog-whistle high notes; she can 
linger over sensual turns, growl with playful confidence, syncopate like 
a scat singer. Although rock concerts aren't known for precise 
intonation, she sang with startlingly exact pitch. 
	She has soaked up ideas from gospel, soul, rock, jazz and pop 
singer, particularly the melismas of singers from Barbra Streisand to 
Aretha Franklin to Minnie Riperton to Thelma Houston. In some songs, Ms. 
Carey could challenge the world record for notes packed into a single 
syllable.

	On albums, Ms. Carey's singing often sounds narcissistic, as if 
she has to cram every phrase with virtuosity. On an arena stage, however, 
her flamboyance was just right, especially because Ms. Carey didn't 
overdo it. Most songs were strategically plotted as arcs: introductory 
wordless "ooh's," slow and sultry opening verses, then a gradual climb to 
ripping gospel phrases and those ultra high notes, followed by time to 
taper off. When Ms. Carey sang remakes of 1970's hits, like "Without You" 
or "I'll Be There" (a duet with Trey Lorenz, who also appeared with her 
on "MTV Unplugged"), she mimicked enough of the original to make a 
connection, then set off her own fireworks. 
	For all Ms. Carey's skill and discipline, her concert wasn't a 
display of cold perfectionism. After singing the S.O.S. Band's "Just Be 
Good to Me," Ms. Carey went to toss her disco-nostalgia leather hat into 
the audience, and accidentally flung it backward on stage instead. She 
retrieved it, joked about her dim prospects in sports, and hurled it 
forward as planned. The crowd was happy; its polished pop idol wasn't 
afraid to look human.