On Eurovision, cultural borders, and Celine Dion
|Apr 29||Public post|| 4|
If you’ve spent time around the digital marketing industry you’ll know the true believers outnumber the skeptics at least ten to one. Ana Andjelic (AA from here on out) is squarely on the skeptic side. We first met when she was wrapping up her doctoral studies lots of years ago and bonded over the lack of evidence for influencers as anything more than a way to boost reach. Over the last few years she’s taken her expertise to the luxury and fashion world. With all that said, today’s guest spot from Ana is about none of those things! Enjoy. - Noah (NRB)
Ana here. In three weeks Europeans will test their loyalties. The Eurovision Song Contest is on. The contest’s name itself is a puzzle, as the participating “Euro” countries include Israel, Turkey, Armenia, and since 2015, Australia. This being a singing contest, it’s also unclear what the “vision” stands for.
Regardless, in the 64 years since its inception, Eurovision never fails to attract massive excitement and big audience. It’s considered the most watched live entertainment program in Europe, and it helped launch careers of ABBA, Olivia Newton-John, and Celine Dion, who inexplicably represented Switzerland.
This year’s contest is to be held in Tel Aviv, and Madonna is set to perform (representing herself). According to a number of betting sites, Russia is the current favorite, leading with the song whose lyrics suspiciously invoke the symptoms of a potentially politically-motivated poisoning (“though my throat is on fire / I’ll swallow hard, fall apart / break and bleed but you won’t see / acid rain from your fingertips”). Close at its heels is a singer from Netherlands, who opted to roll naked in water in his song’s promo video. Mind you, naked swimming is quite tame for Eurovision. The conquest has seen robots, pyrotechnics, Ivan from Belarus (not Winterfell) howling with actual wolves on stage, and Conchita Wurst. In 2016, Jamala of Ukraine sang “1944,” a song about Stalin’s ethnic cleansing.
As is the case with most European regulations, the rules are hard to grasp, but seem to revolve around the following: each participating country (the number this year is 41) submits an original song that is performed on live TV and radio, and then votes for other countries’ songs to choose the winner. There are two semi-finals, and the highest-placed songs compete in the final, along with the “Big Five”- the countries who are the largest financial contributors to the European Broadcasting Union. The big five are France, Germany, Spain, Italy, and the UK, and they automatically qualify for the final.
Why is this interesting?
The voting is wild, and it charts the socio-political anatomy of Europe. It’s done via text messaging, and since the only restriction is that one can’t vote for their own country, the collusion is as vast as it is predictable. In a rare display of unity, Balkan countries all vote for each other: the most enthusiastic votes being mutually given between Serbia, Croatia, and Bosnia, national wars be damned. The number of Serbian and Croatian expats in Australia also may explain its persistent presence in the finals. The Scandinavians and former Soviet Union countries display a similar sense of camaraderie, with Russia, Ukraine, Belarus, Azerbaijan all heartily giving the maximum of 12 points to each other. In the seemingly enduring Eastern Block loyalty, Poland, Slovakia, Czech Republic and Hungary vote for Russia. The fact that no European country ever votes for Britain may win pro-Brexiters some points.
More than a singing contest, Eurovision is a moral fable. It mercifully reveals less about our musical taste, and more about how much we actually like each other. For example, Ireland, free of the heavy overtones that burden its immediate neighbors, regularly emerges as Eurovision’s finalist. Irish are fun, jovial, and easy to be around. They do Riverdance.
The point that national borders are not charted geographically, but socially, politically, and psychologically is not new, but is rarely as obvious. It’s one time of the year when Europeans (and, well, Israelis) gather around the idea of Europe that is actually fun and devoid of grinding bureaucratic talks about Brexit and who should take the migrants. In the three days of the contest, we get the enjoy the idea of modern Europe as strong, united, and free of petty scrabbles.
Eurovision gives Europeans the insight into the state of the European union, its literal unity, and our loyalty. Now more than ever, it also begets the question of what kind of identity topography would emerge if the US was ever to have a version of the Eurovision of its own. (AA)
Chart of the Day:
Arts and culture employment in the US:1998 to 2016. From a new report titled Artists and Other Cultural Workers by the National Endowment for the Arts. (NRB)
Dan Frommer, who has a new site called New Consumer, wrote an interesting piece wondering what’s going to happen to all these heavily funded direct-to-consumer startups like Casper, Harry’s, and Warby Parker. “The tension on the horizon — especially for the companies that can’t go public — is that the few consumer acquirers that can do a billion-dollar deal have vastly different ideas about how to value a company than tech investors, which are used to winner-take-all markets. And that’s where many heavily funded companies will run into trouble.” (NRB)
I have been thinking recently about all the signs pointing to being busy no longer being cool. Regardless (or precisely because) of the 996 model, made popular by Silicon Valley and Jack Ma, constant striving seems to be in danger of being perceived as passé, unbecoming, and even slightly sad. We talk about millennial burnout and poke fun at hustle porn. This article unpacks the forces behind the rise of the anti-striver. (AA)
As I’ve documented in this email, I’m fascinated by the crazy ways tobacco companies are trying to get their customers to switch to vaping before they die. Well, it looks like Phillip Morris has decided to skip the pomp and circumstance and just be explicit about it: “Called Reviti, the wholly owned subsidiary will initially sell life insurance in the U.K. with plans to expand into more markets overseas. Smokers will receive discounts if they stop, quit or switch to a possibly less carcinogenic product, like Philip Morris' vaping devices.” Unbelievable. (NRB)
Thanks for reading,
Noah (NRB) & Colin (CJN) & Ana (AA)