Niamh Kavanagh’s Eurovision win in 1993 helped lift a nation that was on the rise, culturally and economically. We lost our winning ways during our Celtic Tigerhood, but now that we’re poor again . . . any chance of another victory?
REMEMBER 1993? Albert Reynolds had led a Labour-Fianna Fáil coalition to power the year before; the Haughey years were finally over. Government debt and unemployment were starting to drop and the GDP to rise. In June, after David Norris’s historic battle, the Dáil decriminalised male homosexuality; and in December, the stage was set for the Peace Process with the signing of the Downing Street Declaration. Roddy Doyle won the Booker Prize.
It was, in short, a time of enormous economic and cultural vibrancy for Ireland, and a growing sense of national confidence was bolstered when, following on from Linda Martin’s victory in Malmö the year before, Millstreet proved for the first time that the Eurovision Song Contest could be successfully staged in a non-urban setting.
Defying the odds, sweet-faced 25-year-old Niamh Kavanagh bowled over voters across Europe with the power and clarity of her voice when she sang Jimmy Walsh's In Your Eyes, bringing Eurovision victory to Ireland for a second consecutive time (and the fifth time in the country's history).
The following year, to the delight of nearly everyone in Ireland (save the RTÉ top brass), Paul Harrington and Charlie McGettigan won Eurovision honours for Ireland for a third consecutive time with Rock and Roll Kids, and the interval introduced an Irish performance phenomenon, Riverdance, whose eventual global success would make three straight Eurovision wins look like child's play.
Flash forward 17 years.
The boom has been and gone; propping up the banks has put the country massively in debt; the Murphy and Ryan reports have told their shocking truths. Ireland is one of the financially troubled PIIGS. Times are darker than they have been in decades. A little good news would surely not go astray – which is, for many, why it's so exciting that Niamh Kavanagh is back singing for Ireland at Eurovision again, with a classic Irish power ballad, It's for You.
For many observers, It's for Youis an indication that Ireland might be starting to put some effort and care back into its Eurovision participation, after increasingly dismal showings in the late 1990s and most of the noughties.
Scrapping the National Song Contest and replacing it with the talent show selection format You're a Starfrom 2002 to 2005 produced a series of weak, poor-scoring entries.
In 2007, RTÉ found to its peril that trying to take some control back by selecting the act internally (though the public chose the song) didn't work either, when the trad band Dervish finished with nul pointsat the bottom of the contest scoreboard.
And then, of course, there was Dustin: for many, the nadir of Ireland's recent Eurovision efforts came in the form of a turkey puppet in a shopping trolley shouting (to no avail) Irlande Douze Points.
It is likely, however, that Dustin was a true expression of many Irish people’s indifference to, or even contempt for, Eurovision: though the contest felt important to Ireland when it was only starting to understand itself as a prosperous, properly European nation, people began to care less once that prosperity had been achieved.
Such a switch in attitudes is very much part of a larger pattern, argues Irving Wolther, a German academic and long-time Eurovision observer.
In Wolther’s formulation, those nations that are relative “latecomers” to the European establishment (be it via EU or G20 membership, or less quantifiable means) are much more likely to show interest in winning and hosting Eurovision than established countries.
Ireland’s Eurovision success in the 1990s can absolutely be read through this lens, says Wolther.
“Three consecutive Eurovision victories were a source of national pride and self-confidence for Ireland, and may even have helped getting investment capital from countries abroad. They have certainly engendered a considerable growth in tourism figures.
“Eurovision helped to transmit a cliché of Irishness that is still considered very positive in the rest of Europe.”
If Ireland started to show indifference towards Eurovision in the past 15 years, this is in keeping with its growing economic and cultural power. “The more that Ireland became an established country,” continues Wolther, “the more it suffered from what I call ‘Woganisation’ [after cynical Eurovision commentator Terry Wogan] that is, a more and more highbrow approach to the contest. Irish entries became conservative and were lacking in innovation.”
But as Ireland has discovered to its peril, the boundary between establishment and underdog status is notoriously porous. Ireland is not alone in pouring renewed energy into its Eurovision entry, says Wolther. “The considerable efforts of established nations to send in representative songs by renowned composers and/or artists in the 2009 and 2010 editions . . . reflects the climate of instability caused by the global financial crisis, in a very striking way.” In this, Wolther refers to Andrew Lloyd Webber’s involvement in the UK entry last year, as well as the Eurovision debut of world-famous French chanteuse Patricia Kaas; and, this year, the presence of internationally-renowned musician Goran Bregovic as composer of the entry for Serbia, which won the Eurovision three years ago.
Both Niamh Kavanagh and composer Niall Mooney say they’re well aware that Ireland is in the need of some cheering up at the moment: “Winning’s not going to save the economy or any of that rubbish,” says Kavanagh. “But people do feel lifted if we do well. I have taken great heart from the way that people have responded to the song, and to me. I didn’t expect people to respond so strongly.”
Mooney, who co-wrote It's for Youwith Jonas Gladnikoff, Mårten Eriksson, and Lina Erikkson, says he hopes that a strong result for the song "might say to Ireland that we're not out of the races yet, that we're still capable of doing great things".
“Maybe these past years we went a bit mad and lost sight of reality. The message of the song is in the title – it’s about putting other people first. Maybe that’s something we need to be thinking about right now.”
Certainly the song fulfils every expectation of an Irish Eurovision entry – it’s a big, heartfelt ballad, presented simply, with a touch of Celtic flavour provided by a brief tin whistle solo. This formula has worked well for Ireland in the past (think Johnny Logan, Linda Martin, and Brian Kennedy, who is the only Irish entry in the past decade to place in the top 10).
THE QUALITY OF KAVANAGH’S voice is also a major selling point: “I still remember the meeting of the Greek Eurovision fan club back in 1993,” recalls Apostolos Lampropoulos, an academic at the University of Cyprus and longtime Eurovision enthusiast. “Everybody talked then about Niamh Kavanagh’s vocal abilities – she is an extremely good singer in a way that is quite rare in Eurovision.”
Diarmuid Furlong, president of OGAE Ireland, the official Eurovision fan club, agrees: “A lot of us would regard Niamh as one of the best vocalists who’s ever won.”
The fact that Kavanagh is the only former winner singing in this year’s contest has also sparked considerable excitement in the fan community. “Niamh is hugely outgoing and friendly with the fans. She gives a lot and we all hold her in high esteem,” says Furlong. “It’s like she works the scene automatically; it’s her personal ethic to give back to people who support her.”
So is Europe ready for Niamh Kavanagh’s offer this year? The portents are good: Last Wednesday, following Kavanagh’s first rehearsal on the Eurovision stage in Oslo, bookmakers placed Ireland among the top 10 overall finishers for the first time. The downside is that she is performing in the second semifinal on Thursday, which is the more competitive of this week’s two qualifying heats for the final. But most contest insiders are confident that Ireland will at least qualify this year, and in Kavanagh’s view, just that would probably give the country the positive boost it needs: “We only have to do well to make people feel we’ve won.”
Runners and Riders
Who’s making news at Eurovision this year; and more importantly who’s going to make us laugh? Our awards thus far:
Most Conspicuous Expenditure:Azerbaijan. A slickly produced video, an unstoppable PR machine — and, despite its silly tag line ( Drip Drop) an excellent song: the Azeris are in it to win it this year.
Best Petulant Teenager:18-year-old Lena Meyer-Landrut flips her hair and pouts at the camera most fetchingly in the video of Satellite, which has been viewed an astonishing 3 million times on YouTube. Germany's only winner (Nicole, in 1982) was a 17-year-old girl. Have Germany finally found a winning formula?
Best Eurovision Anthem:Despite ludicrous names (Chanée and n'Evergreen) the attractive Danish duo provide this year's catchiest chorus with In a Moment Like This. You will not be able to get it out of your head.
Most Ornate Qualification Process:Ukraine chose its singer and song in March, but that result was thrown out following allegations of suspected nepotism. They held another qualifier and Aloysha won with To Be Free, but that song was scrapped because it sounded like a rip-off of a Grace Slick track and had already been on commercial sale for more than a year (a Eurovision no-no). Ukraine had to pay a fine in order to finally enter Aloysha with a new song, Sweet People.And it's rubbish.
Bizarrest time warp:The Netherlands' Sha-la-lieis a sprightly singalong number (performed in front of a barrel organ) that blithely ignores the last four decades of popular musical history. Composer Pierre Kartner (aged 76) is best known as the writer of the Smurf movies' theme tune. You have been warned.
Most impenetrable irony:Apparently Peter Nalitch Friends, from Russia, aren't really as serious as they seem – but the performance doesn't let us in on the joke. Maybe it's a post-Soviet thing?
Most inexplicable hairdo:Serbia's Milan Stankovic. Just see for yourself.
Most blatant multi-tasking:France's Allez Olla Olédoesn't just sound like a World Cup anthem — it is their World Cup anthem. France Télévisions thought they'd double up and save money this year. Eurovision traditionalists will not be impressed with Jessy Matador's booty grinding.
