he
hall darkens, the singer takes to the stage, the crowd goes wild
and the waving flags of dozens of nations fan the arena. It's
the entry from Bulgaria and the next three minutes are full of
strobbing lights and ear splitting drums to accompany the screeching
vocals. Three minutes later they retire and the entry of another
country takes the stage. Perhaps it's Ireland with a Celtic ballad
or Iceland with a modern rock anthem or Sweden with a bit more
bubble-gum pop music we have come to expect from them. They go
on and on, one after another, covering every corner of the European
continent and beyond until the last singer retreats from the stage.
And then, Europe begins to vote for the winner.
As I sit there through this whole pageant, I wonder
sometimes what I, an American, am doing here in the midst of this
bizarre but quintessentially European cultural event. Yet every
May I find myself on a flight to somewhere in Europe to attend
this very peculiar European institution. So what in the world
is this whole thing? Well, if you combine the musical competition
of American Idol with the international pageantry of the Miss
Universe contest, and a little of the intrigue of the United Nations,
you can have an idea of what the Eurovision Song Contest is all
about.
The Eurovision Song Contest goes back to over
50 years ago when Europe was still licking its wounds from the
last war. Looking for a little cross-border harmony, the European
Broadcasting Union came up with the idea of an annual song contest
where each country would select a song to represent them and promote
their national culture. It would be broadcast on a live television
program seen simultaneously in all the participating countries
who would then each individually rank the other countries' songs
at the end of the competition. The song who received the highest
number of points would be declared the winner and that country
would get the right to host the contest the following year. Back
at its modest debut in 1956 only 7 countries took part, but as
its popularity grew and the Iron Curtain fell, the ranks grew
and grew. Now in 2008 there are 43 countries taking part: instead
of one night of competition there are now two nights of semi-finals
leading up to the Saturday night grand finale.
Back in the days when most countries had only
one or two national broadcasters, the event was guaranteed a high
viewership for its prime-time Saturday night spot. Ask any European
about it and they are sure to tell you how they used to sit around
with their families once a year to cheer for their entries. In
contrast to this nostalgia however, the most likely response from
a European will probably be a loud groan. For, despite the auspicious
goal of promoting national cultures, the quality of the songs
has often been hilariously lacking (often much like American Idol)
and has given the reputation of being more of a kitsch-fest than
a song contest. Through the years we have seen some of the worst
excesses of 70's fashions, out of tune singers, cheesy Vegas-like
choreography, bad taste gimmicks and painful crooning than you
can shake a baton at. There have been hundreds of great entries,
but Europeans are most likely to remember and associate the contest
with the worst ones.
Despite the contest's sometimes less than vaulted
reputation, an audience of 300 million television viewers was
a pretty tempting opportunity for any up and coming singer in
which to partake. A win was a very good shot at launching an international
career. Back in 1974 Sweden sent an unknown pop quartet to the
contest while in 1988 Switzerland hired a young untried chanteuse
from Quebec to sing their song. Both won, and a few years after
that you would be pressed to find anyone who hadn't heard of either
of them: Abba and Celine Dion. Beyond them, Katrina and the Waves,
Nana Mouskouri, Julio Iglesias, Tatu and France Gall all had their
hand at the contest (and despite wining it didn't hurt their careers
any).
I first found out about the crazy thing from a Dutch pen pal who
staring in 1989 began to mail me audio cassettes of the contest.
What appealed to me then (and still does) was the international
spectacle and scope of the whole thing. It was amazing to hear
a Greek bouzouki, a Finnish folk song, a Turkish pop song and
a Dutch power ballad all on the same little cassette, and all
in different languages other than my own. In addition to the songs,
he also included the recording of voting which was even more fun:
each country was called and gave points in ranking order to their
top ten favorite entries (but obviously not allowed to vote for
your own). As country after country announced their votes, it
became apparent which songs were competing for the top spot. It
was often not until the last country voted that we knew the winner:
would Italy give its top marks to Germany, or would Norway get
their vote and win? And as fun as it was to see the winner, there
was also the dubious distinction of coming in last place. The
first year I watched that dishonor went to poor Iceland, who not
only came in last but didn't manage even to get a single vote
from any of the other countries (though still not a winner, Iceland
did manage to come in fourth and second a few years later, just
so you know).
This was all such great fun, and year after year
I began to get worrisomely hooked. Each May I began to look forward
to the cassette tapes mailed by my dutiful friend. This was always
a couple weeks after the contest, but as we Americans were clueless
about the whole thing I never found out the winner till I'd heard
all the songs and excitedly followed the voting. By 1995 the illness
was growing in me and I spent $600 I didn't really have to buy
a European-format VCR just so I could start watching it actual
videos of it. I joined a few fan clubs, made contacts around Europe
and in 2002 I was invited by some Finnish friends to actually
attend the contest held that year just next door in Estonia. The
excitement of being there live (and being caught on live TV in
one of the audience shots) was so beyond my wildest expectations,
as was meeting a number of the actual competitors. I've gone back
every year since. A new country has by chance won the contest
each year since then and all of them are worthy destinations in
their own rights. So far this strange little hobby of mine has
taken me to the likes of Estonia, Latvia, Turkey, Ukraine, Greece
and last year, to Finland.
As an American I'm a bit of a curiosity showing
up at the contest. I have rehearsed my standard responses to 'what
are you doing here' and 'how did you find out about he contest'
to a fine art. As much as we get maligned around the world for
our policies, America still evokes bright lights and international
success for any up and coming artist from Portugal to Poland,
so I sometimes get a little more attention than I deserve. 'Sorry:
I know you might be a big star in Romania, but I don't have any
record contracts or exciting gigs in New York to offer you.' But
Europeans are great though and I'm always made to feel part of
the crowd in the sea of fans, journalists, photographers and performers.
It's this spirit of international cooperation which is the most
fun of going: hanging out with Turks and Greeks, Irish and Brits,
Bosnians and Serbs: supporting each other's songs, discussing
politics and history and amazingly all getting along. This is
the good side of the politics of the contest.
That is the smiling side of the contest, for the
actual voting is neither so amicable nor fair. And this has become
the big controversy of the contest. As previously mentioned, each
country gives points to their top 10 songs of the night. In an
ideal world, the best songs would get the most points, but it
so often doesn't work out that way. Groups of countries tend to
automatically vote for each other: no matter how tragically pathetic
the Greek entry may be they can always be sure of maximum votes
from Cyprus (and vice versa). Then there are long love affairs
inside the respective groups of ex-Yugoslav, ex-Soviet and Nordic
countries: they always exchange points too based more on geography
than merit. They say it's because they share a same taste in music
but I'm not so sure: Turkey and Cyprus have rather the same taste
in music but, as historic enemies, I sure don't remember then
exchanging many points with each other.
Then there is the controversy of the 'diaspora
vote'. Turkey can't give itself any points, but it always seems
to receive top marks from Germany. Not that the average German
loves Turkish music, but the millions of Turks residing in Germany
vote in large numbers for their homeland. With Turks living all
over Western Europe, Turkey is one of the biggest beneficiaries
of the diaspora vote, as it Russia with large minorities living
all the ex-Soviet republics. You can learn a lot about European
demographic patterns from this voting phenomenon: there must be
a lot of Lithuanians in Ireland and a lot of Romanians in Spain
given the number of points going their way (and guess what? there
are!).
This all leads to a lot of grumbling. Some countries
like Iceland, Portugal and Switzerland don't have any voting blocks
or diaspora to give them this artificial boost
and every
year seem to lose out accordingly. I was sitting with the Icelandic
delegation in Helsinki last year when their entry, a powerful
rock ballad (and in my opinion the best entry of the night) wasn't
even chosen as one of the top ten in their semi final to advance
to the finale. Their place was taken by the much less worthy entries
of the likes of Latvia, Moldova and Turkey. Now that was a somber
evening for us. It seems a giant West-East chasm has opened up
in the contest where the old western countries that have been
in the contest since the start (Germany, France, UK, etc) don't
stand a chance against the combined forces of the newer post-Iron
Curtain countries in the East. There is a worry this could ruin
the contest. The West grumbles it is an unfair playing field and
they can't success. The East counters 'maybe you should send better
songs'. Austria got fed up by not making it last year and has
dropped out because of it. So, is there anyway to fix this? Well,
they are trying, but it's pretty hard to get over several millennia
of European history in just one night of music.
So, where am I going this year (and thus to answer
your question: 'who won last year'). If you guessed it's somewhere
in the east and somewhere from the midst of a voting block then
you would be correct on both accounts. Europe's own bad boy, the
former Yugoslav Republic of Serbia took the top prize and will
be welcoming the throngs of Europe this spring. It's not great
timing for them: their historic region of Kosovo just declared
independence earlier this year, leading to riots and the burning
of a few embassies in Belgrade (including ours!), But I'm sure
they will be gracious hosts. I'm just now sure how many countries
who recognized Kosovo will be getting many points from Serbia
during the voting this year.
I'll tell you how it went when I get back.
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