NEW ORLEANS - To get a clue into Angelique Kidjo, you only had to witness her set at Congo Square, one of the big venues of this city's annual Jazz and Heritage Festival, on the first Friday in May.

It wasn't just that she wheedled the burly security chief until he allowed fans to come up and join her. Kidjo commonly requires fans at her shows not only to dance, as she does endlessly, but to do so with her onstage.

Once they were there, she made a point of connecting with each one as she jaunted through "Afirika," from her most recent album, "Black Ivory Soul." It was as if she had 20 guests in her living room and wanted to make each one feel at home. Each of them left with a hug and a huge smile.

If the Benin-born, Brooklyn-based Kidjo, who comes to the Tweeter Center with Carlos Santana on Wednesday, were just a good hostess, you could give her marks for manners and move on. But few who've heard her lusty voice can stop there.

Santana calls her "an absolutely incredible artist." Steve Berlin, the Los Lobos horn player who's producing her next album, considers her voice "a once-in-a-generation thing." Quint Davis, the New Orleans festival's producer/director, who has booked thousands of performers for the event for more than 30 years, is not only a fan but one impressed impresario.

"To me, you don't think of her just in terms of world beat or African music. You have to think in terms of Tina Turner or something, her whole dynamic energy up there," Davis says.

Indeed, endless energy seems to be the core of this close-cropped, bleached-blond, pop powerhouse, who says she hasn't taken a break since 1994. In addition to the show this week, she returns to New England for two more in August, including an appearance at the Apple and Eve Newport Folk Festival. She already has shows set well into next year, including a February date at Somerville Theatre.

It's fair to say that Kidjo craves a spotlight and pop success, but it would be unfair to regard her just as another idol-in-waiting. She sings and speaks for peace and of spirituality and her heritage. "She is just pure, raw conviction," Santana says.

That iron thread of her character was on display hours before she ruled over Congo Square, when she communed with a theaterful of school children as part of the festival's Educational Workshop Series. Out of almost 500 acts in the eight-day festival, barely 20 also do the workshops. It's the sort of move you'd expect from a UNICEF special representative, which she's been for almost a year.

Kidjo sang for them, but only four songs. In between, she took questions, descending from the stage at times to be on their level. Her primary topic was the music - in between songs, she asked her players to explain the beats and backing vocals - but she kept sight of larger themes. "I want to show the links back to Africa," she said after her percussionist broke down one beat. "That's important for you to know."

Using her voice to document those links is a mission for her: She is two albums into a trilogy on the African diaspora: "Black Ivory Soul," the second, plumbed the rhythms and scents of Bahia, Brazil, a New World landing point for many enslaved Africans. The third, which will begin production in the fall, will follow the movement of slaves into Cuba, Haiti, and New Orleans.

Kidjo sang from a young age in her mother's theater troupe, but later she enrolled in law school, intent on a career in human rights. "Then I realized I would have to learn politics, which isn't my thing, so I quit. I decided I would try to touch poor people with my music."

Kidjo may have rejected it as a vocation, but politics are entwined with her performing. Consider her blend of boast and social commentary when a student asked if she likes her career: "I do, a lot. I'm one of the few African women to have an international career. In Africa, you're supposed to be a mother and wife, perhaps a secretary. But not a singer."

She speaks as she sings: boldly and without pretense. Her music is always soulful, sometimes balladic, often pop-like, with hooks that make fans want to sing along, even if they don't know the words. Though she speaks English well, Kidjo usually sings in the French, Fon, and Yoruban of her upbringing.

Some might wonder whether Kidjo's non-English lyrics have kept her from reaching a wider audience, but Berlin doesn't think so, pointing to Kidjo's duet with Dave Matthews on her last album to make his point.

"Let's say . . . I didn't know her music and I heard that on the radio and went and bought the album. Would it matter that the other songs weren't in English? Her songs are so great and her voice is so beautiful, I don't think so."

Clearly, she has the attention of her peers. The Matthews connection included a gig on his 2001 summer tour. This summer, of course, she's back on the stadium circuit with Santana. They collaborated in Oslo last December at the Nobel Peace Prize concert. They did "Adouma," the obvious choice: Kidjo co-wrote and recorded it on her 1994 album "Aye," and Santana covered it to open "Shaman," his 2002 follow-up to "Supernatural." It's fair to think they'll do a reprise Wednesday in Mansfield.

Steve Morse of the Globe staff contributed to this story.