Read the first part of this article here!
I'm going to open this part with two personal Eurovision-experiences of mine, that would serve as an example for my final Eurovision fandom-theory.
The year was 2006. It was the first time I went to Eurovision, In Athens, Greece. And I was standing in the middle of the press room, with a microphone in my hand, interviewing Andreas Lundstedt from Alcazar. In front of us were many photographers and journalists with video cameras, and they were filming and taking pictures of...us! Of me talking with Andreas. I felt like I'm in the seventh heaven. That I finally did that, I've achieved what everybody wants and craves for: to meet famouse people and be in the spotlight, in the place where everything happens.
Except that it was only an illusion. I was not really a journalist. I only got a press-accreditation because I took part in a temporary project of doing a video-blog for Eurovision. When I came back to Israel after the Eurovision ended, no glorious job waited for me, only usual exams at the university, and overload of tasks that accumulated because I went abroad in the middle of the most study-loaded perioud of the school year. And still, when I stood there in the venue in Athens, I felt like it was real. As if little me was really an important person who deserves these cameras and shootings. It was like I got the chance to jump into the future, or to another galaxy, and see what it feels like, to be someone who DOES usually interfer with such glamorous things.
The second Eurovision episode I want to tell about also took part in Athens. There was a cruise for journalists and Eurovision artists and I had the chance to join. The atmosphere on the ship was heavenly. There was food, music, cold breeze and fans from all over the world. And one moment just was engraved in my memory. I remember passing by a group of fans singing Linda Bengtzing's 'Alla flickor" from melodifestivalen. I remember I naturally joined them in singing, without even thinking. A wonderful feeling of being a part of a bigger thing suddenly swept over me. Singing with them felt like we were all a big Eurovision family. It was amazing, to see how you can suddenly form a strong emotional connection with people you've never met and never heard of before. How strangers can suddenly become your friends and soul-mates only because you all love the same thing and are familiar with the same rare musical style.
I'm going to open this part with two personal Eurovision-experiences of mine, that would serve as an example for my final Eurovision fandom-theory.
The year was 2006. It was the first time I went to Eurovision, In Athens, Greece. And I was standing in the middle of the press room, with a microphone in my hand, interviewing Andreas Lundstedt from Alcazar. In front of us were many photographers and journalists with video cameras, and they were filming and taking pictures of...us! Of me talking with Andreas. I felt like I'm in the seventh heaven. That I finally did that, I've achieved what everybody wants and craves for: to meet famouse people and be in the spotlight, in the place where everything happens.
Except that it was only an illusion. I was not really a journalist. I only got a press-accreditation because I took part in a temporary project of doing a video-blog for Eurovision. When I came back to Israel after the Eurovision ended, no glorious job waited for me, only usual exams at the university, and overload of tasks that accumulated because I went abroad in the middle of the most study-loaded perioud of the school year. And still, when I stood there in the venue in Athens, I felt like it was real. As if little me was really an important person who deserves these cameras and shootings. It was like I got the chance to jump into the future, or to another galaxy, and see what it feels like, to be someone who DOES usually interfer with such glamorous things.
The second Eurovision episode I want to tell about also took part in Athens. There was a cruise for journalists and Eurovision artists and I had the chance to join. The atmosphere on the ship was heavenly. There was food, music, cold breeze and fans from all over the world. And one moment just was engraved in my memory. I remember passing by a group of fans singing Linda Bengtzing's 'Alla flickor" from melodifestivalen. I remember I naturally joined them in singing, without even thinking. A wonderful feeling of being a part of a bigger thing suddenly swept over me. Singing with them felt like we were all a big Eurovision family. It was amazing, to see how you can suddenly form a strong emotional connection with people you've never met and never heard of before. How strangers can suddenly become your friends and soul-mates only because you all love the same thing and are familiar with the same rare musical style.
But this, too, was an illusion. They were not really my friends, and they were surely not soul-mates or "spirtualy family". Friends are people you meet on a regular basis and know to depth. Friendship is something you build and nurture, and it has also ups and downs, after you get to know your friends' bad habits and detested quialities. It's not so hard, to immidiately like people from other culture, that you "earned" automaticly because of Eurovision, and who always seem nice, simply because you don't know how anger and unfriendliness is expressed according to them. It's also not so hard to like those friends, that you meet only once in a year and therefore never fight with them and never get to know their unpleasant every-day sides.
Eurovision is the event of illusion. It gives you things for free, and you don't need to make any effort. Just be a fan and be a part. And it starts way before the happy day in which you go on your first Eurovision trip. It starts when you watch the contest for the first time, when you are a kid. The show itself is a bundle of illusions, but we'll get there later.
As I noticed this strong theme of illusion in Eurovision, I tried to think: what kind of people would regard this illusion so attractive? What people would like the idea of instant fame, instant friends, instant national pride, instant attention that's directed to you, and so on? And then I remembered all those American films, showing this unpopular boy who's laughed at at school and is never invited to parties. And as his class-mates inflict him with the final torture, he's shouting at them: "You'll see! I'll show all of you! One day I'll be famous and you'll all be sorry!!!"
What am I trying to say by this? That we, Eurovisin fans, are all not-so-popular kids who want a revange? Not necessarily. But a person who wants it big and instant, just HAS to be a person who lacked something as a kid. Only someone who's never had something, would want to have it so desperately when he's an adult, or even earlier in life. Now he wants it bigger than ever, and he wants it now.
And how does he get all this by being a Eurovision fan? Let's form an example.
I'll call him Peter, as a tribute to Finland's entry. Peter is nine. Or eight or seven or so. He may be a very introverted kid who's never been noticed at school and has no friends, even though he's quite smart. He can, alternatively, also be a kid who's over-praised at home for his talents and looks, but then naturally doesn't get the same amount of attention at school and it frustrates him. Or he can also be gay, who's learned from his surroundings that one should be straight and love football and not barbie dolls, and therefore he's afraid to show his "gayness" so he's becoming very quiet and shy. There can be many kinds of Peters, but they all have one thing in common: Peter has never had the chance to express himself and be someone. Peter does not have a self-image. A self image is one of the most basic needs of a human being.
One evening in May Peter is watching a program called the Eurovision Song Contest in his family's living room. He's becoming completely enchanted and can't take his eyes off the screen. Years later he would tell his fellow Eurovision fans about this first time, and about all the "beautiful songs, music, dances, festivity, so many languages..." and so on that captured him and made him a fan. Yeah, Peter thinks that this was what made him love Eurovision. He just love music, and also likes languages and other cultures. but is it really so?
Together with Peter there are millions of people who are music lovers and are watching the contest, but find nothing special in it, except for the usual "support your country" thing. But Peter did find something special in it. He found himself. He saw a contest where every song is just shouting out loud: "This is me!!! watch me!!!! now!!!". He saw songs which are so catchy and easily-remembered, that just capture your ear from the very first second of their opening. He saw shiny sequinsed outfits, colourful dresses and strange folk-custums. He heard strange languages that he's never heard before. He saw women who are not the usual feminine pop-star material but are strong dominant divas who sing power-ballads, or alternatively perform an up-beat songs with such grace and charisma in their moves that it looks like they, and not men, rule the world. He also saw men sing and perform, but they were not the usual men in suits. They were men who wore colours and danced gracefully with their flexible bodies even better than woman. They looked like great peacocks, showing off their questionable sexuality.
And he saw even more. He saw acceptance. He saw that those singers represent their countries. They were chosen, from all the rest. They are a source of pride. Even though they may be strange, over extraverted, and have so-called opposite sexual behaviour, they were chosen to be the representing face and body of their country. Already now Peter is forming in his mind the dream he would be able to express in words only years later: He wants to represent his country in Eurovision. This is the most desired stamp one can have on himself in order to prove that he is accepted as he is.
And finally, when the show was about to end, Peter saw a final desire coming into satisfaction: The contest had a winner. Someone, probably the one who was the best, was crowned and awarded a prise and a big honour. It was a reasuring thing, to see that it's so simple: the one who's the best gets what he deserves, and the ones who are less successful are ranked below in downward order.
So that was what Peter saw: Self-expression. Acceptance. Justice. Three things he needed so badly in his daily life, where he was constantly backstage, casted away, lonely, hidden or uninvited. Many people watched the contest together with Peter all around the world, but they saw only strange old-fashioned songs, unlike the ones they like to hear on the radio, a long tiring voting process, and a cocky winner with too much show-off who won over better "normal" songs.
And it's not the end of the story. Peter is about to grow up and discover, to his great surprise and happiness, that there were other people like him, who happened to find something in this far-flung contest who anyone think is strange and unnacessary. And then a very interesting interaction is about to take place. As I said, there are many kinds and forms of Peters, all of them needing attention and self-expression due to different reasons. Remember the "gays & divas" theory? two personality types of different fans? So here I'm gonna base myself upon that elementary scheme and claim that there are two ways of dealing with this need for attention described above.
Those Peters, or Eurovision fans, grow up at some time. Most of them are already not the frustrated kid they were. They've learned to express themselves and blend in their surrounding society to some degree. Maybe it was Eurovision that helped them and gave them the inspiration for self-building, through singing the songs, following a yearly event, having dreams and desires, and so on. I think there are two types of ways of overcoming this childhood lack of attention. One is over-extraversion. I chose this term insted of the former "diva" term, which is not appropriate anymore, because not all compensation-behaviours have a feminine queen element. So some fans are becoming some sort of a Eurovision artist-personality, only without the singing thing (or sometimes with it too). They dress differently in an attention-seeking way, they talk a lot about themselves, they demand compliments, either by saying "I'm so damn pretty" or alternatively "damn, I'm so ugly". Some of them are also fighting a lot and becoming rude or over-criticizing. Some develope an annoying sense of humor, and so on. As I said, There are many ways of standing out. Some of them are attractive and acceptable, and some of them are clearly not. Some are productive, some are not. But all are attention-achieving in some way.
The other way of coming over the lack of attention and self-expression is what I call extreme-fandom. You know those very commited fans who know all the songs from all the years and everything? Or are fanatic admirers of some Eurovision artist and follow him obsessively? They are usually quiet persons, very nice and polite, who don't dance like crazy at the Eurovision parties or post millions of pictures on facebook. I think they just chose to use their love for Eurovision as meaning of expressing their wish of getting attention or standing-out. Instead of being a star, they are satisfied with watching other stars perform and admiring others who express this huge need to shout "look at me, here I am". As they grow up and develope, they choose to work at the back of the show buisness, as producers, journalists, helpers...anything that surrounds the star istelf. I still don't understand why some people become colourful characters and some chose to stay as they are and just project their needs and wishes on some other figures. But I'm open to suggestions.
There's also a third way of expressing oneself, and it's a somewhat combination of the two ways described above. I've met several fans who are very extraverted and at the same time praise obsessively other Eurovision figures. There are not so many who are like that, because the extraverted are usually too self-centered, and the admirers are usually extremely ignoring all elements of themselves and direct all their energy towards others. But They still exist. Those people are somewhat more problematic in relationships with other people, because they do not take a specific role, and therefore find it hard to find friends who match them. But from what I saw, being both a fan and a diva is just a stage, and they usually transform into something else, healthier.
When those two kinds of Eurovision fans interact, they just complete each other. It's a system that feeds itself, as I said earlier. Some fans are becoming attention-attracting divas, while the others adore them, seek their companion and attention and get inspiration and indirect satisfaction for their needs. But conflicts can still arise. They arise where there are several extraverted people who all want the attention and liking of everyone at the same time, but know that there can only be one winner, one diva (Eurovision, remember?). That's usually a situation that happens in the local fan communities of Eurovision, where fans are meeting each other often, and everybody knows everybody. Many Eurovision fans lose interest in the Eurovision scene just because of this - they are becoming tired of this attention-seeking and drama-distributing atmpsphere and decide just to take a break.
But this phenomena just doesn't happen with abroad Eurovision-fans: people you rarely meet and who are easier to like due to the fact that their different cultural behaviour may be interpreted as a lack of conflicts and lack of oddness. Another thing that Peter, our little Eurovision fan, might saw when he watched Eurovision, is how attractive everything looks when it lacks your own cultural filter. You know your own nation and its roles and laws for what is accepted and what's popular. But you don't have this natural sense with people from abroad, and they don't have it in relation to you. That's what make them accept you, and that's what make you accept them. At least when it all starts.
And that's what makes the Eurovision week - the big event, the diamond and the pearl of the Eurovision crown - be as attractive as hell for the fans, artists, and everyone who is an illusion seeker. Watching Eurovision gives you a hope, a dream, a relief from the cruel boring world you live in. Mingling with the local Eurovision society gives you an opportunity to build yourself upon satisfying some of your needs. But the Eurovision week? it makes all of those dreams and wishes come true. Immidiately.
And about this I'll talk on the next and final part of the article.
And he saw even more. He saw acceptance. He saw that those singers represent their countries. They were chosen, from all the rest. They are a source of pride. Even though they may be strange, over extraverted, and have so-called opposite sexual behaviour, they were chosen to be the representing face and body of their country. Already now Peter is forming in his mind the dream he would be able to express in words only years later: He wants to represent his country in Eurovision. This is the most desired stamp one can have on himself in order to prove that he is accepted as he is.
And finally, when the show was about to end, Peter saw a final desire coming into satisfaction: The contest had a winner. Someone, probably the one who was the best, was crowned and awarded a prise and a big honour. It was a reasuring thing, to see that it's so simple: the one who's the best gets what he deserves, and the ones who are less successful are ranked below in downward order.
So that was what Peter saw: Self-expression. Acceptance. Justice. Three things he needed so badly in his daily life, where he was constantly backstage, casted away, lonely, hidden or uninvited. Many people watched the contest together with Peter all around the world, but they saw only strange old-fashioned songs, unlike the ones they like to hear on the radio, a long tiring voting process, and a cocky winner with too much show-off who won over better "normal" songs.
And it's not the end of the story. Peter is about to grow up and discover, to his great surprise and happiness, that there were other people like him, who happened to find something in this far-flung contest who anyone think is strange and unnacessary. And then a very interesting interaction is about to take place. As I said, there are many kinds and forms of Peters, all of them needing attention and self-expression due to different reasons. Remember the "gays & divas" theory? two personality types of different fans? So here I'm gonna base myself upon that elementary scheme and claim that there are two ways of dealing with this need for attention described above.
Those Peters, or Eurovision fans, grow up at some time. Most of them are already not the frustrated kid they were. They've learned to express themselves and blend in their surrounding society to some degree. Maybe it was Eurovision that helped them and gave them the inspiration for self-building, through singing the songs, following a yearly event, having dreams and desires, and so on. I think there are two types of ways of overcoming this childhood lack of attention. One is over-extraversion. I chose this term insted of the former "diva" term, which is not appropriate anymore, because not all compensation-behaviours have a feminine queen element. So some fans are becoming some sort of a Eurovision artist-personality, only without the singing thing (or sometimes with it too). They dress differently in an attention-seeking way, they talk a lot about themselves, they demand compliments, either by saying "I'm so damn pretty" or alternatively "damn, I'm so ugly". Some of them are also fighting a lot and becoming rude or over-criticizing. Some develope an annoying sense of humor, and so on. As I said, There are many ways of standing out. Some of them are attractive and acceptable, and some of them are clearly not. Some are productive, some are not. But all are attention-achieving in some way.
The other way of coming over the lack of attention and self-expression is what I call extreme-fandom. You know those very commited fans who know all the songs from all the years and everything? Or are fanatic admirers of some Eurovision artist and follow him obsessively? They are usually quiet persons, very nice and polite, who don't dance like crazy at the Eurovision parties or post millions of pictures on facebook. I think they just chose to use their love for Eurovision as meaning of expressing their wish of getting attention or standing-out. Instead of being a star, they are satisfied with watching other stars perform and admiring others who express this huge need to shout "look at me, here I am". As they grow up and develope, they choose to work at the back of the show buisness, as producers, journalists, helpers...anything that surrounds the star istelf. I still don't understand why some people become colourful characters and some chose to stay as they are and just project their needs and wishes on some other figures. But I'm open to suggestions.
There's also a third way of expressing oneself, and it's a somewhat combination of the two ways described above. I've met several fans who are very extraverted and at the same time praise obsessively other Eurovision figures. There are not so many who are like that, because the extraverted are usually too self-centered, and the admirers are usually extremely ignoring all elements of themselves and direct all their energy towards others. But They still exist. Those people are somewhat more problematic in relationships with other people, because they do not take a specific role, and therefore find it hard to find friends who match them. But from what I saw, being both a fan and a diva is just a stage, and they usually transform into something else, healthier.
When those two kinds of Eurovision fans interact, they just complete each other. It's a system that feeds itself, as I said earlier. Some fans are becoming attention-attracting divas, while the others adore them, seek their companion and attention and get inspiration and indirect satisfaction for their needs. But conflicts can still arise. They arise where there are several extraverted people who all want the attention and liking of everyone at the same time, but know that there can only be one winner, one diva (Eurovision, remember?). That's usually a situation that happens in the local fan communities of Eurovision, where fans are meeting each other often, and everybody knows everybody. Many Eurovision fans lose interest in the Eurovision scene just because of this - they are becoming tired of this attention-seeking and drama-distributing atmpsphere and decide just to take a break.
But this phenomena just doesn't happen with abroad Eurovision-fans: people you rarely meet and who are easier to like due to the fact that their different cultural behaviour may be interpreted as a lack of conflicts and lack of oddness. Another thing that Peter, our little Eurovision fan, might saw when he watched Eurovision, is how attractive everything looks when it lacks your own cultural filter. You know your own nation and its roles and laws for what is accepted and what's popular. But you don't have this natural sense with people from abroad, and they don't have it in relation to you. That's what make them accept you, and that's what make you accept them. At least when it all starts.
And that's what makes the Eurovision week - the big event, the diamond and the pearl of the Eurovision crown - be as attractive as hell for the fans, artists, and everyone who is an illusion seeker. Watching Eurovision gives you a hope, a dream, a relief from the cruel boring world you live in. Mingling with the local Eurovision society gives you an opportunity to build yourself upon satisfying some of your needs. But the Eurovision week? it makes all of those dreams and wishes come true. Immidiately.
And about this I'll talk on the next and final part of the article.
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