Mariza ranks as one of Portugal’s fastest-rising fado stars. But she does not look like the traditional fadista. Shunning the plain, dark clothes and black shawl associated with female singers of the Portuguese songs of passion, she prefers to wear fancy gowns and stiletto heels. Her hair is bleached and sculpted in precise waves. Her stage presence is glamorous and sexy.

Although she projects the image of a diva, she does not see herself that way. “I’m not a diva. That’s a strong word, and I don't like it,” she said by phone last week from Lisbon.

“I don't use the traditional aspect of fado. I want to be real onstage. I want to give authenticity. You must be very authentic to express yourself.”

When Mariza steps onstage as part of the Carnevale Series Friday night at the Cleveland Museum of Art, she will be herself, and she will show the audience the true person, as she puts it.

“I like to be pretty. I hate fake things, she said. I wear my best clothing because I am doing something very special.”

Born in Mozambique, Mariza moved to Lisbon with her family when she was an infant. She grew up in Mouraria, the traditional neighborhood where fado was born in 19th-century bars and brothels. Immersed in the music from early childhood, she began singing at 5 in her parent’s restaurant. Because she could not yet read, her father drew cartoon stories to help her remember the lyrics.

“I used to sing the lighter fado, not the melancholic ones,” she said. “People think we [fadistas] are always crying. But its not so. The roots of fado are very melancholy but also very happy. It’s the same when you listen to the blues.”

On her debut recording, Fado en Mim, Mariza sang a mix of traditional songs and new material. The album achieved gold status in Portugal, and Mariza was proclaimed best fado voice.

On her second album, Fado Curvo, she focused on contemporary poems and new arrangements. Both collections contain upbeat numbers as well as dark songs of yearning, loneliness and destiny.

Mariza, 29, will feature selections from both albums on her American tour. Her live performances, she says, are more meaningful than her recordings.

“I’m not thinking about making another record, she said. I don’t like being in the studio and not having anyone to connect to. You need to have people. You talk about feelings. You have emotion. People always respond.”

When Mariza sings in the small tavernas of Portugal, she is sharing her feelings with friends. When she performs in American concert halls, she tries to maintain the same intimate atmosphere.

“When we are performing in clubs, we sing two or three fados, because everybody sings. In a concert, we sing one hour and a half. It’s very special.”

On her four previous American tours, she never had a concert that didn’t work, even when the audience did not understand the Portuguese lyrics.

“I talk to people about the history of fado. I don’t give translations,” she said. “Music doesn't have boundaries. People understand the emotions of the song.”

Besides touring with three accompanying musicians who play Portuguese guitar, Spanish guitar and bass, Mariza is completing research for a book about fado. She has dug up photos and documented the sources of fado in a 19th-century dance.

“I’m searching for information from musicians, from all the oldest people with roots in fado,” she said. “I think it’s so important.”

One of Marizas most beloved sources was singer Fernando Mauricio, the king of traditional fado. When he died last week at 69, Mariza postponed interviews and went into mourning. “I heard him sing when I was 5, she said. He was from my neighborhood. He was a very special man, a kind of teacher and a very dear friend.”

“Men in fado do not have international careers. Fernando did not like concerts. He liked small cafes in his neighborhood. He was a very traditional person, a very closed person. He did not like to travel. In the 1960s, he did one concert [abroad], and he didn't like it.”

Like all leading fadistas of her generation, Mariza is often compared to Amalia Rodrigues, the legendary artist who died four years ago. “I never met her. I never saw her live. I saw her on television,” Mariza said. “I was influenced by all the fado singers. I listened to records of the old ones.”

Although she is aware of contemporary fadistas such as Misia and Cristina Branco, Mariza has never seen her peers perform live. I know they exist, she said. I don't know what they're doing, except what people tell me.

Mariza knows for sure what she herself will be doing for the rest of her life, however. “I belong to fado. It belongs to me,” she said.

“It’s a way of life. I will keep on singing forever.”