Estefan slips intimate moments into flashy show

In the second half of her sensational song-and-dance extravaganza Sunday at the Arrowhead Pond of Anaheim, pop singer Gloria Estefan announced she was going to do something she had never tried before on stage.

“I’m going to get naked,” she joked, revealing a bit of what she calls her “warped” humor.

The exceptionally fit performer, who turns 47 next month, didn’t disrobe during what is billed as her final tour, “Live and Re-Wrapped.” Instead, she cleared the stage of her noisy band, picked up an acoustic guitar, sat alone on a stool and offered a personal glimpse of her childhood relationship with her late father, a bodyguard to Cuban dictator Fulgencio Batista and veteran of the Bay of Pigs invasion and the Vietnam War.

On a giant screen appeared a snapshot of the singer as a child, also on a stool holding her first guitar, which she still uses to compose. (“My feet still can’t reach the floor,” she said.) And the actual voice of the little girl was heard on a grainy tape, one of those she used to send to Vietnam for her father.

As little-girl Gloria sang his favorite song, “Cuando Sali de Cuba” (When I Left Cuba), a lilting anthem of exile loss, grown-up Gloria softly sang harmony.

The interlude was the most intimate and moving moment in a loud, flashy and kinetic two-hour-plus concert that featured 10 dancers, almost 20 musicians and wonderful stage props -- flying fish, a huge flamingo, tall palm trees carried on poles. Unavoidably, the show included several of Estefan’s dance hits, rendered in ear-splitting, bombastic excess.

That’s the Gloria the public has embraced for almost 30 years, the fiesta girl of rhythmic hits such as “Conga” and “Rhythm Is Gonna Get You.” Yet she seemed to disappear during those numbers, her small figure at times lost amid the nonstop action, her thin voice all but overpowered by the volume.

Estefan also did some of her hit ballads, though she turned “Anything for You” into a hilarious parody about the ravenous appetite of one of her musicians, who never gains weight. Her sendup showed more spark than some of her rather routine romantic fare.

Despite the artistic shortcomings, it’s hard not to like the singer.

Her amazingly broad appeal was demonstrated by the all-inclusive demographic of Sunday’s audience: old and young, bilingual and monolingual, white, black and Latino.

That global popularity, while forcing her music into a one-size-fits-all category, has made Estefan one of the most successful and enduring pop performers of her generation. According to her label, she’s sold 70 million records worldwide.

Normally, sales alone don’t mean much in an era of disposable pop. But in the case of an immigrant Latina, it’s a crucial accomplishment, because so few have been able to find mass acceptance in the U.S. She’s the Santana of the East Coast, and her fans admire her for that.

Besides, she leaves us one of the finest Latin albums of the last decade, 1993’s “Mi Tierra.” It’s a shimmering yet earthy production, featuring Estefan’s warm, sweet vocals on up-tempo salsa and aching boleros, such as “Con Los Anos Que Me Quedan” (With the Years I Have left), an expression of marital devotion she wrote with her husband, producer Emilio Estefan.

She performed it Sunday, with a pared combo that let the tender feeling breathe, in contrast to the full-band arrangement that smothered the folkloric delicacy of “Mi Tierra,” an ode to the homeland.

For non-Latinos, Estefan’s appeal is all-American. She’s the girl next door who hit it big but remained natural and likable. She may not have an outstanding voice or penetrating lyrics, but she’s that rare Miami mega-star who conveys down-home sincerity.

When she tells us from the stage that she’s been married happily for 26 years to “my first and only boyfriend,” we’re convinced the star hasn’t been spoiled by success, though she, not her husband, manages the daily finances of a business empire that includes hotels, restaurants, TV and film production.

Estefan, who recovered from a severe back injury 14 years ago, says she’s tired of the physical demands of touring. She plans to devote more time to her 9-year-old daughter, Emily, who did a short drum solo Sunday.

But we haven’t heard the last of Gloria Estefan. She already has projects in the works, including writing a script about the life of singer Connie Francis.

Ironically, Estefan may be retiring from touring just as her music becomes more personal and provocative. During the solo guitar segment, she sang “Famous,” a bittersweet reflection on fame from her new album, “Unwrapped.”

She claims the last line is true: “Curiously / I didn’t set out to be / Famous.”

And we believe her.