|
Back to
the Baltics!
Latvia takes
first in Europe’s biggest annual TV contest.
By Michael Tarm
Forget forestry and transit trade. The Eurovision Song Contest
is the hottest post-independence industry in the Baltic states after Latvia followed Estonia in winning by far the most famous and/or infamous song contest on Planet Earth.
Singers representing 24 countries, from Slovenian transvestites in glittery red flight attendant uniforms to a Russian boy band in loose-fitting hip-hop garb, battled it out on stage before 7,000 flag-waving fans at the
Saku Suurhall in Tallinn on May 25.
In a nail-biting drama before a live TV audience of
over 150 million, Latvia’s Marija Naumova eventually won with her Latin-tinged, swing-song tune called
I Wanna—on votes cast by Lithuania and in an event hosted by Estonia. The winner was selected by TV viewers around Europe who called special hotlines. The final tally was Latvia 176 points, and Malta a close second with 164.
Bookies had given Naumova virtually no chance, offering her long-shot odds of 44-1 to win. (CITY PAPER
was the only media regionally or abroad that went on record in print giving Latvia the highest rating of all the participants; see the
May/June 2002 edition.)
Euro-sophisticates mock Eurovision
for its perky, saccharine tunes; the lyrics from the Russian song, sung in English, included the line, “Lady ice, how can I melt you baby?” But millions in and around Europe have come to love—and love to hate—the event. And each year
Eurovision ends up igniting deeply-felt if disproportionate passions across the continent.
This year was no different.
The win by the Latvian prompted allegations, only half in jest, of an emerging Baltic hegemony. Others raised the specter of a
Baltic Eurovision Mafia—in part because Estonia and Lithuania had both thrown the highest possible score to Latvia. Deadly serious Spain and Germany even demanded changes in a voting system that (‘how could it be?!’) delivered the coveted Song Contest title consecutively to two small states some Spaniards and Germans may have never heard of earlier. “There’s a new Baltic dynasty,” Belgian
Eurovision fan Leonard Loughborough told the BBC. “They have the chance to impose their own musical tastes on the continent. We’re witnessing the start of a seismic shift in Europop techtonics.”
Eurovision-crazed Sweden, who gave the world ABBA at the 1974 Eurovision, also complained that something must be amiss after its three disco divas crashed out in Tallinn. (At a contest after-party, Latvian flags waving victoriously through the dry ice and strobes, the Swedish trio stood dejected and forlorn, as if their dogs had just died. They had been the pre-contest favorites but looked stiff and packaged on stage; the BBC’s acerbic
Eurovision commentator Terry Wogan said they’d come across as “over-ready turkeys.”)
And did all the depression and Euro whining spoil the Baltic celebration? Did it leave people here feeling guilty—that maybe they’d cut themselves too large a piece of the
Song Contest pie?
Not in the slightest.
The more they heard, the better they felt.
For Balts—used to being dismissed as mere footnotes to this or that larger story, so used to being portrayed as impotents just going with the flow—the gripes were music to their ears. Most were flattered by the suggestion, absurd as it was, that Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania could have been part of an ingenious conspiracy to keep
Eurovision in their neighborhood. Baltic self-esteem hadn’t risen so far, so fast in years.
Latvia reveled in another of the spoils of victory: rights to give those you just vanquished advice.
The vivacious if easy going Naumova (who alternatively gave her age as 16, 21 and 27) told a news conference just after accepting her trophy in Tallinn that continental Europeans took themselves too seriously and that television viewers were turned off by it.
“They need to relax and have fun,” Naumova, whose stage name is Marie N, told a German journalist who asked for tips on how Germany could do better.
Naumova herself is anything but stiff.
Her sultry but fun-loving performance in Tallinn ended with her male sidekick dancers ripping off her suit and tie to reveal a skimpy pink dress—which then transformed into a flowing gown.
At a press conference earlier in the week when a journalist asked if there was anything else she could do outside music, she jumped on the conference table, swept away the microphones, and stood on her head.
What she does in music is impressive enough. Even before the
Eurovision win she was already an established jazz singer, with
a repertoire that included George Gershwin; two years ago she was one of the warm-up acts for Joe Cocker when he came to Riga.
And she’s not only a pretty face who can sing. She is a pretty face who studied physics at Latvian University and who later landed a law degree; she speaks five languages. One of her albums, called
Ma Voix, Ma Voie, features all-French chansons. In Tallinn in the days before the final, she wooed locals by singing in Estonian.
Naumova, from Latvia’s large Russian minority, also speaks virtually flawless Latvian—endearing her to the ethnic Latvian majority. Said one TV commentator after Naumova returned home a conquering heroine: “She’s every Latvian’s favorite Russian.”
Hard work on the road to international stardom still lies ahead for Naumova, who said she’d now set her goal on following the likes of ABBA and Celine Dion—both of whom shot to fame after winning past
Eurovisions. “I really hope I can make my career in Europe, because Latvia is a little bit small for me,” she said.
Most Eurovision title holders have quickly faded into obscurity.
A member of last year’s winning Estonian duo, Dave Benton, said his victory opened a few doors for him, including a record contract. But his advice to the new title holder was, first and foremost, to find a good lawyer. He also said Naumova shouldn’t get too carried away about becoming the next Celine Dion.
“If someone who wins Eurovision
starts thinking, ‘Yes! I’ve made it…they’re going to be so disappointed,” he said. “Don’t get carried away. Stay realistic....Winning
Eurovision alone is not it. It’s what you do afterwards that counts.”
The PR gods—again—seemed to be watching over the Baltics.
Estonia won its own shock victory at
Eurovision in 2001 just as the country was putting the finishing touches on a
multi-million-kroon program to market itself to the world.
Latvia, as luck had it, had only recently taken steps to do the same. Early this year it had already planned a major conference to generate fresh ideas about how to boost the middle-Baltic state’s profile worldwide.
Branding managers of any country would give their right arms to have
Eurovision—however derided by critics—in their arsenal. If you include those outside Europe who watch reruns, up to 300 million people watch
Eurovision yearly.
For Latvia, the Eurovision win was just what the doctor ordered.
“Next year we have the chance to achieve something beautiful due to this success,” Latvian President Vaira Vike-Freiberga told Naumova at 5,000-strong welcome home party in the Riga old town upon her return from Estonia. “Thank you once again Marija.” Her heroine’s welcome included a police escort from the Estonian-Latvian border to Riga—treatment normally strictly reserved for visiting heads of state.
Several British newspapers reported that Latvians, or at least Latvian officials, were near suicidal after their country took top prize at
Eurovision—giving Latvia the right to host the contest the following year. One newspaper reported that a panicked Cabinet called a “crisis session” to discuss what on earth to do next. Nick Thomas, writing in The Times of London, even said that “the Latvian government is hopping mad with Naumova for landing them with the responsibility of staging the thing next year.”
Nothing could be farther from the truth.
Enthusiastic, almost giddy Latvian officials immediately announced that they would, by all means, take up the challenge of hosting
Eurovision in 2003. The government allotted nearly 2 million dollars for the purpose and said it was standing by to offer more if need be.
Estonians had heard the knee-jerk skepticism before that an ex-communist state just couldn’t pull off such a costly, technically complicated broadcast. Some skeptics abroad sniggered about lights falling from the stage crushing competitors. Estonians ended up putting on one of the better
Eurovisions ever.
If Estonia corrected the mistaken impression that the Baltics are half-competent, third-world basket cases by putting on a widely heralded show—Latvians insist their production will help drive the point home.
The Latvian victory in Estonia on the strength of those Lithuanian votes may have also been the best thing for Baltic unity since over two million Baltic independence supporters joined hands from Tallinn to Vilnius in 1989 to demand freedom from the Soviet Union.
When it became clear Latvia had won on the night of the contest, thousands of Estonians watching on a giant TV screen at Tallinn’s old town began chanting: “Läti! Läti! Läti!” (Estonian for “Latvia! Latvia! Latvia!”). It was a bad day for the few Estonians who’ve advocated that their country ditch any notion of a pan-Baltic identity.
All the Baltics stand to gain by having the
Eurovision spotlight stay fixed on the region for another year; increased tourism for one Baltic state usually means increased tourism for the others.
The most fitting outcome in order to keep the Baltic
Eurovision fairytale going would be for Lithuania to win next and then to move the whole
Eurovision circus down another country.
But that won’t happen.
Lithuania’s entry in Tallinn, Aivaras Stepukonis, came in second to last singing
Happy You, and so the southern most Baltic state was automatically disqualified from taking part next year.
Both Estonia and Latvia will take part though—and either could win again.
—CITY PAPER-The Baltic States
Photos by A.F.I.
You can hear a Real Audio recording of "I Wanna" and the
other Eurovision songs at www.eurosong.net
. Click on "ESC 2002," then on the green colored links.
See CITY PAPER’s report naming Naumova as having the best song weeks
prior to the Contest...here.
|
