While in Latvia for the final of Dziesma for Insight, we were able to take a little bit of time to find out the thoughts of those involved in Latvia’s journey to Eurovision about what they think and feel about the contest. Latvia has one of the worst Eurovision records in recent history; 5 non-qualifications in a row including 3 semi final last paces. However their debut in 2000 promised great things, and since winning in 2002 the Latvian contributions trend downwards. Ben Robertson reports back from his interviews in Riga and Ventspils.

The whole weekend away to Latvia was one for a very different Eurovision experience than I would get in Sweden. I could have easily took the train north to Örnsköldsvik and saw superstars old and new, Alcazar and Anton Ewald, storm home in the media circus of Melodifestivalen. However, instead here I am on a damp and windy Friday afternoon boarding a cruise ship across the Baltic Sea to head to Latvia.

We all know about how huge Melodifestivalen is, but I had little to expect from my time in Latvia. Rather than a 10,000+ seater ice hockey arena, less than 1,000 were present in the seaside port of Ventspils for the show. Rather than former Eurovision entrant and Swedish singing royalty Tomas Ledin, we instead have an interval act headlined by Tenfold Rabbit, who come with a 3rd place in Eesti Laul behind them as expertise. Already, it is clear that in comparison to Sweden this is Eurovision on a shoestring budget.

A stranger from the North

However, on that journey across to Latvia, I can clearly see that there is still a passion about Eurovision in Latvia. When you have a Friday night on a boat to kill with a few hundred other passengers all waiting for day to break and a new country to appear, there really is only one thing to do.

Karaoke.

Hmmm, do I chose some Carola or Musiqq???

And from a cultural point it was fascinating. Now the songs on the karaoke lists were a couple of years old, but there was still plenty of songs that I knew, and the boat had selections of Swedish, Latvian and worldwide hits to go through.

Any schlager fan would know over half the songs on the Swedish list, and the mainly Latvian crowd were treated to versions of Shirley Clamp’s Min Kärlek and Alcazar’s Not A Sinner, Nor a Saint on the boat over by yours truly. However the Latvian book was one of real intrigue. Although I recognized quite a few of the songwriters, especially Guntars Racs, almost every song played by the Latvian’s was folksy and a guitar filled sing a long snoozefest when placed side-by-side with the Swedish schlagers. And all were in Latvian.

…not quite heaven coming down to Earth I think…

The only ones that weren’t in Latvian were those songs that had represented them in the Eurovision Song Contest. So I braved an attempt at Hello from Mars, which went down a storm with Latvians who all joined in, and a go at Questa Notte followed by attempting horrendous Latvian with Dziesma par laimi. I made a few friends that night anyhow. What my hazy memory serves to tell me from the evening is that the Latvian’s were really proud of the songs they used to send to Eurovision, and that they made music that not only they loved, but other people around Europe loved too. The cultural impact of Eurovision on both Estonia and Latvia as one of their biggest shows on the international stage is something we have look on Insight previously, and it was great to hear this up close and personal.

Here We Go

Riga, alongside Umeå in the far north of Sweden, is one of the two European Capital’s of Culture for 2014. However, the Latvian final is not one of the co-inciding events. Ventspils, a coastal town of around 40,000 people and about a 3 hour drive from central Riga was our location. I was quite taken aback by the hospitality that was put on for us as press. Not only was a bus organised just to take us from Riga to Ventspils, but this bus made a detour to pick up the couple from Stockholm en route from the port, and then provide us with a beautifully laid out brunch buffet (where Eurovision fans used up all the cheesecake puns in the world, so you don’t have to).

On arriving, it was clear why this happened. The assembled journalists and photographers on this packed out bus to Ventspils was the overwhelming majority of media present for the event. Every spare moment of advertising space during the show featured Visit Ventspils, and I later learnt that their costs in sponsoring the show came to around 1/3rd of the entire budget LTV has for the production of Eurovision.

It’s clear that somebody in Latvia still thinks that Eurovision has some kind of cache, something still worth fighting for, something that brings people together.

That somebody was Aldis Abele, the Executive Director of Ventspils City Council. Why is it that Ventspils wants to host such an event so much?

“We have some great tourist infrastructure here in Ventspils, but our tourist season is dominated by the summer months. We want to bring events here to Ventspils that make us a destination for the whole year.”

This isn’t just a one-off strategy either. Since the Juras Varti Theatre House was completed in August 2009 it has been the host venue for the finals of Latvia’s selection process. Times have changed since then though, and Eurovision has struggled to have the pull it once had. We can of course look at the results in Eurovision to tell that story, or the empty seats that were present for the afternoon dress rehearsal but arguably the voting statistics in the Latvian final are even more damming.

This year Cake to Bake and Dons were neck and neck in the Super Final televoting until the final moment, with Cake to Bake finishing with 3,949 televotes (and 1,529 internet votes as well, but these could be made outside of Latvia). This number is dwarfed by that of PeR the previous year, where they got 6,289 televotes in the final three. However, if we go back to the days when Eurovision was big business in Latvia, we can see that F.L.Y, in a super final of 5 songs from 2003, had voting numbers of 64, 850 televotes, and even Questa Notte received 49, 422 televotes when it won in 2007.

In comparison to those dizzy heights, Latvian Eurovision is in crisis.

Aldis had his own opinions on this too that he wanted to share:

“How popular the show is depends on the success in the Eurovision competition. When Latvian artists go out in Eurovision at the very bottom of the leaderboard, that isn’t good.”

However big the crisis is though, the show is still something that is thought to warrant a small town spending a significant chunk of their tourist budget for, and in addition Dziesma still holds a caveat in being one of the biggest live productions that LTV organise. Indeed when Eurovision came to town in 2003 it was a chance for captial city Riga to put itself on the world stage. While all was not perfect with Riga’s Eurovision, it did move to create some change in the city.

I met up in their offices overlooking Riga’s beautiful Old Town with Aigars Smiltans, Marketing and Communications Director for Live Riga, to ask about this impact Eurovision had to the capital.

“Eurovision brings this awareness for a destination and then tourism from that comes later on. Since 2003, Eurovision has helped to drive on, sort of, the growth of tourist demand and infrastructure, and extra awareness of Latvia internationally, linked in with the admission to the EU as well. We can’t single out Eurovision as an event; there needs to be a link of events bringing things into the city.”

As we discuss this further, and we look at what Riga now as Capital of Culture, Aigars is keen to downplay the impact of Eurovision. Yes, it may have been one of many factors to drive infrastructure change, but it isn’t as decisive or important as we would imply looking purely from the zone of the Eurovision bubble. The implication now seeming that Eurovision has given to Latvia, and hasn’t given any more since. I can note alongside this that LTV asked the Live Riga for sponsorship to promote the city in Copenhagen’s Euro Village, with a similar show to what Estonia put on last year to promote the city. However, this was flatly rejected.

As it was a common trend on my interviews around Latvia, Aigars also wanted to share his insights into why Latvia does so badly in Eurovision.

“Maybe it was an issue that instead that the nation voted for their favourite song, the panel of experts now vote for the best singer. That is not being reflected in what Eurovision is all about.

For several years it was a selection of who is in the local contest and we got it wrong, hopefully that will be different this year.”

The War Is Not Over

On the flipside to this negativity, you could still see the impact such a big show still has in the media. There was a two-page spread in one of the national newspapers with information about all the acts, and Dons, who eventually finished second, were competing with a song that has dominated Latvian radio over recent months, and still after the show keeps that success up after being voted as Latvian Song of the Year. There are good news stories if you look for them. One that especially delighted me was the creation of a brand new Eurovision fan club in Latvia. I was saddened by the lack of an OGAE Latvia when I looked at coming over, but, assuming all goes well at the OGAE Annual Meeting in Copenhagen, we will be able to add Latvia to the list of members in our fan umbrella.

I was able to spend a few moments interviewing their President, Miroslavs Kodis, about what the fan club in Latvia was aiming to do.

In action meeting with the President of Eurovision Club Latvia

“I had the idea in my mind for a fan club here a few years ago, every year I go to the big Eurovision and I see the organised clubs from Portugal, Spain, UK and Finland and we had no movement, so I wanted to organise that.

We are a new club and we don’t have many members yet, we are promoting ourselves wherever we can. But maybe the bad thing in Latvia is that the attitude to fan clubs is odd. We don’t have fan clubs so often in Latvia, they ask ‘What is fan club?’

For us I want to unite all the fans in Latvia, and show them that Eurovision does not have to be something so far away. We want to make it possible for being to come to Ventspils, or to the big competition in Copenhagen.

Firstly we want to unite the fans, but secondly we want to promote Eurovision more in Latvia so more people like it than hate it.”

I asked Miroslavs to take this point a little further, how important is Eurovision to Latvia now, compared to ten years ago.

“I would say it is important, if you see for example the news articles online, people still comment about it. Some people love it, some people hate it, but everyone watches it. It is still one of our biggest TV shows, and even those that hate it, they know who represents Latvia in Eurovision.”

I was impressed by passion Miroslavs had for his new role, and that he felt part of the solution to help generate more interest and more love of Eurovision back in Latvia from this troubled period. Eurovision Club Latvia have a website, a first event plus a President blessed with a supportive broadcaster. After the ten songs had performed, Miroslavs was one of the people lucky enough to go on stage and present the fan award for best song live on national TV. I can’t think of another fan club where such exposure takes place, and the difference between this and Finland where I remember Mikko Pohjola getting the award and a quick photo before needing to run off and do interviews made it all very unceremonious in comparison. What happens with Latvia with the fan club over the long term will be important for its survival, but hopefully as well to bringing up more exposure that Latvians can reach and touch the final not just off stage, but on the stage as well.

The Memory Tape of Latvian Eurovision

One man who has been on that Eurovision stage, in the final, is Lauris Reiniks. He was in Ventspils to perform as a guest artist during the interval, and he was more than happy to discuss with me his history in the Eurovision Song Contest.

“2003 was my first big experience of the Eurovision Song Contest with the trio F.L.Y, and then when we won the national contest we didn’t have anywhere else to travel as it was in Riga. We didn’t score very well, but we had the best of memories and we made great friends.

I took a break for some time, and two or three years later I wrote some songs for some other artists. And then I had the song I Wish I Could Pretend, which got through to the Irish final, finishing 2nd. And after that I thought, well, it’s been 7 or 8 years, so maybe it is time to try by myself. I tried firstly with My Morning Lullaby, and then the year after with Banjo Laura and I thought to myself, if this song, Banjo Laura, does not get through to Eurovision, then I am done with Eurovision.

I saw the poll of the International fans [about Banjo Laura], and it was very flattering. But it didn’t go to Eurovision, so I put a big red cross over it. I am done with Eurovision. In the Baltics, Banjo Laura is still famous, so with and without Eurovision a good song will spread.

I don’t feel that my time in Eurovision opened any new doors to me that came from my own work after the contest.”

That Hello From Mars did little for Lauris’ career, looking back is hardly a surprise, and regardless of the result in Riga in 2003 it’s not going to be the type of song that launches a career – it is just a happy and bubbly piece of pop music, that on the night in Riga got swallowed up by those that did the genre a little better. It is sad of course that somebody with such a songwriting reputation as Lauris has looks at Eurovision and decides that enough is enough, but when you go for Eurovision, every time you need to be prepared to lose, and Lauris has had enough defeats and near misses in his career already.

The bruises from this aren’t visible, but do lurk beneath his skin. Lauris was lovely and passionate to interview, had a real warmth of voice and was interested in not just us being in Ventspils but in Eurovision in general. He is a good ambassador in that sense from the contest and was a jolly good sport about Terry.

However, after Terry and I had our fun, we did enough to get under that skin. Lauris asked us about why we always have to go to Hello From Mars. He asks us about why we go back to something from over 10 years ago, and that did very little to shape the career he had in Latvia and beyond. As with most Terry Vision pieces, it wasn’t highly scripted, and I had seconds to think what I should do together with Lauris. Of course on the back of my karaoke success, it was the obvious choice to perform with Lauris. And I felt a little bit bad. I know how cheesy and trashy that song is, and I know how sad it is that it defines Lauris more to us than any of his other songs through his career. But that’s the problem sometimes with Eurovision. Artists grow up, they mature, and they change genre and audience. But they are most known for what they did when they first break through onto the stage. Some of them embrace this, like Carola for instance, who knows that performing Främling around any Swedish stage will bring thousands of worshippers.

That’s not the case for all though, and this was a reminder that although being in Eurovision might be good fun, harking back to it after 10 years might not be and the tarnishing of your name with the brand sticks longer than you may wish.

However, Lauris was still nice throughout and when he heard the story about me on the boat the night before, I think he saw the irony and he was actually quite surprised so much of his music was on the karaoke playlists. Eurovision though is so powerful in this regard, if Banjo Laura had squeaked past Musiqq in 2011 then Angel in Disguise would not be lying unplayed on the boat’s karaoke playlist and we’d have la-la-la-la-la’ed together with Terry Vision on camera and all would have been smily faced. In this regard, Eurovision is a double-edged sword, full of chances to win and to lose, and here it was very visible at close hand.

When it came to winning and losing, Lauris knows a little about that here in Latvia. We continued our discussion asking about what Latvia needs to do to get back in the Saturday night show.

“The situation in Latvia has changed. When we first entered, all the biggest pop and rock groups took part. Now it’s not, we have more newcomers on the stage, it’s more like the other countries. Many of these today I don’t know them and where they come from. There are only three or four established artists here.

In the last few years we have been doing so badly. We haven’t made the final since the Pirates. Every year we talk about withdrawing, or taking a break, but we’re not giving up.

If I could choose, I would form a jury that did not have a single Latvian in it, just have foreign juries that would be able to look at the songs objectively. Here it always feels like who deserves to go through does. I’m sorry if I’m revealing some super secret information but, who is famous here in Latvia has an impact [on the result].”

Lauris’ opinion is already noted to an extent. There is a large international presence on the jury that helps to pick the songs that take part in Dziesma, but from there the songs are judged by a jury of mainly Latvian nationals. And certainly as well, Latvia is not alone in picking people who deserve to go to Eurovision to represent the country rather than the best song. What is telling is that there is a desire to change it, to find new solutions, to keep faith and carry on.

However, it wouldn’t be enough to tempt Lauris back. Our interview ends rather poignantly with Lauris suggesting that he would like to come back to Eurovision, as a songwriter. After I Wish I Could Pretend was 2nd in Ireland, RTE contacted him about writing another song, but he didn’t have time to complete the project. Lauris though told us that he would look to enter again ‘for another country.’

Perhaps when the going gets tough, the tough get going elsewhere and little Latvia is left stranded behind.

Does Everybody Play a Sad Trumpet?

I managed to grab a quick word with Ralfs Eilands straight after the show in Ventspils to ask about his actions on stage with the dramatic opening number firing directly at the political events happening in Ukraine. However, I wanted to know much more than that about this from him. When you go to Eurovision, and you finish last in the semi-final, most fans don’t expect to see you again. But here Ralfs is, standing up tall, taking part in the Latvian final, and doing so with some swagger as well, despite not getting the ticket to Copenhagen. So Ralfs, why are you back?

“Well, it’s really important to me as an author. I’ve always been afraid of performing outside of PeR, but my friends said that I should take part. I respect the idea of this as a song contest, nine times out of 10 I write a song and I think it is a great piece. I want to share it with people. Eurovision is a big platform to spread my word.”

I fully respect what Ralfs says about this being a song contest, and, as an artist and a songwriter, he wants his latest pieces of art to be viewed by the most people possible. That is what Eurovision still can do. PeR haven’t sold fountains of tracks across Europe, but still Ralfs understands that this is his best chance to get the music heard across the continent. It may not be great, but there is still a carrot on the stick here in Latvia, that Finland didn’t have and the UK certainly doesn’t. There is a chance and belief that you could break through and you could make it. Finland was determined about building artist profile in order to develop this internally as well as externally, but in Latvia people like Ralfs will cling to the thought that they may have the next big thing, they may be the next Brainstorm.

While this clearly is a memory people have, I wonder if Ralfs himself has a two-penneth worth on why Eurovision has taken a turn for the worse in Latvia.

“It’s kind of strange in Latvia, it’s controversial. Lots think that it is rubbish, and the rubbish side just don’t like some songs that are in Eurovision. It’s not as important anymore, and the ratings are down, but it is still something everybody knows about. If Latvia can win this year, it will bring it back up.”

It’s time to ask these questions instead to somebody who matters.

Only Mr. God Knows Why

We have to fast forward past the afterparty and the fun that was to be had on the bus all the back in the darkness to Riga, to the perhaps uninspiring location of a Costa Coffee in the middle of Riga’s gorgeous Old Town. It was here that I was able to meet with Zita Kaminska, the Head of Delegation for Latvia in Eurovision, and we had a good long chat about Latvia in Eurovision and what the team was trying to do to bring it back.

Before we even have sat down with our hot chocolates is Zita eager to tell me about how tough it is here. That Latvia was going to withdraw in 2009 in no secret, however Zita tells me that these discussions are now almost a yearly occurrence from the board of LTV. The biggest problem, of course, is results.

“Some people say that it is politics, but I think most of the trends are because of cultural differences and taste. We don’t understand sometimes why some ridiculous songs do so well, and why our songs do so badly.

Two years ago Latvian TV decided not to take part no more. Only two of us argued that we needed Eurovision, it is the only spotlight for Latvian artists. We can compare how it works with sport, sometimes we don’t always win medals, but we need to be there to compete and to develop.”

Latvia is not staying static when it comes to how it tries to find the solution to turn itself against the tidal barrage of poor result after poor result. Last year, in 2013, Latvia opened their doors to composers from around the world for the first time. However, the choice was made this year to revert to Latvian composers, with the running theme of Dziesma 2014 being ‘Made in Latvia.’ I asked Zita about this tactical change.

“I decided last year that I needed to bring something else to the table, and at least when we allow foreign composers we can say wow, look at all these songs we have. But my belief is that for Eurovision, each country should bring their own songs from their country.

If we have success we will bring it back to Latvia. But if we have foreign composers, why? What do we get from that? Maybe we qualify. But that is not right, Latvia does not benefit.

In a sense, I wish the pressure to qualify was a little bit less, perhaps it is unprofessional to say, but I don’t care about qualifying if my artist represents Latvia and that they are able to do something more with their musical career.”

Sadly though, that isn’t happening. Eurovision has not been a platform for Latvian artists to break through into regional territories. Arguably, only Brainstorm in this regard were able to do this, and in recent years the mix of novelty songs and poorly-placed entries have only been good as one night wonders. It makes the whole system in Latvia one that on the whole is not sustainable, something Zita is only too aware of.

“In the first years, the best Latvian artists came to take part in Eurovision. When you see something new, something exciting, you want to try it and have a go. But musicians noticed that it doesn’t change the way of life for them. Eurovision was losing prestige in Latvia. Young musicians still come to Eurovision as it is still a big deal, they get to practice with the live, multi-TV camera event and with the media. But it is hard to get the big stars to take part when the prestige of entering Eurovision is so low.”

It sounded very much like Zita had something she really wanted to clear off her chest. “You know, it is like a circle, when we don’t qualify good musicians don’t come and take part, and then it repeats and repeats, just the same as the public criticisms. We have to find a way to break this circle.”

Jöran out in the the theatre lobby after the Dress Rehearsal meeting fans.

The Angel in Disguise

Perhaps this year, there is a chance for Latvia to break the circle. Regardless of opinions regarding Cake to Bake as a song, that it won in Latvia was a shock when Dons was seen as a clear winner the whole way through, selling out concerts daily and topping the charts. My Latvian friends in Stockholm told me that I was going to see a formality and Dons was going to walk it. But, by the smallest of margins we can see that Latvia has chosen perhaps not who deserves to go through, but instead something they believe has a chance.

Zita confesses that to her the result was a surprise.

“We have the reputation in Latvia of sending our famous artist, and so it was a big surprise. It’s quite similar to 2008 when the Pirates won, our second place act Andris Erglis was famous with a beautiful song and he was quite handsome. But then the Pirates did well in Eurovision. Maybe that is why we have the case this year that Cake to Bake won.”

For our Latvian-loving German heading up Aarzemnieki, this year has a lot of pressure on his shoulders. He is known as the man who has knocked out Dons, he has already won over the country with cute videos and sing-a-long sessions with school choirs and every move he made in recent weeks was vital to secure the tightest of winning margins. But, to be known as a winner in Latvia, he needs to make it through to the Saturday night show. I ask Zita how important this pressure is.

“To qualify,” Zita comments with an undertone that implies I should take this seriously, “To qualfy is very important. It’s the future of Eurovision in Latvia. If we keep on not qualifying, there is big pressure to stop paying out such a big amount of money to the contest when instead we could do our own projects. 15 little projects that we know will make people happy.”

In the wake of numerous countries in Europe withdrawing from Eurovision in recent years, Latvia is itself now on the brink doing just that. Eurovision in this country has an agenda torn in two, the one side of it sticking to the ethos of promoting new songwriting and trying, valiantly, to share this both inside and outside of the country, the other that desperately needs a Saturday night slot to retain some credibility to this. The flipping of ideas allowing foreign composers into Dziesma from one year to the next shows the dilemma this struggle is causing and is only too thinly veiled. Latvia wants to do it honestly, and holistically, but it’s stuck in a rut where it comes down to a results-based business too.

Putting it bluntly, if Latvia doesn’t make the final this year, I can expect to add one more country ready to seriously discuss withdrawal.

Facing Oblivion

Latvia may look up to their northernly neighbours Estonia for the answer, but they won’t find one easily. Estonia and Latvia have a lot in common with Eurovision, Latvia won the contest in Tallinn providing both with greatly timed platforms to showcase the countries to Europe and both have had to struggle with the balance of how much, if at all, non-natives can represent the country in the contest.

Even the selection process is similar, two semi finals pick to go to a final, where the jury and televote are split 50/50 to get to a super final. And while we can argue that Estonia may have picked sometimes not their best possible entries (and I am obliged to link back to Ewan’s Winny Puhh rant here), they qualify and Eurovision keeps a prestige. Estonia’s current form includes 4 qualifications from the last 5, including 2 placements in the top 10. Even more impressive for Latvians, 3 of these 4 qualifications have been in Estonian, when the Latvian language has never reached the Saturday night of Eurovision.

Even this early in the run up to May, Latvia’s entry is struggling in fan polls, but Estonia are flying comparively much higher.

I got the chance to explore this at the Latvian final, with the lovely boys from Tenfold Rabbit who were the interval act. Their appearence, Zita confirmed, was from her asking her equivalent in Estonia if he had anybody good to send over, and over came this lovely group to perform two songs. One of which, Oblivion, finished 3rd behind Kuula in Eesti Laul 2012, and Oblivion made it mission accomplished on Saturday too, being higher on Sunday’s Latvian iTunes chart than any of the other competing songs.

After the show, I asked the boys why they thought Latvia does so badly, and Estonia does so great in modern Eurovision.

“We don’t know, we were thinking about this and we’ve discussed and compared both contests. For us it feels like the level is very much the same. It seems like Latvia has more of an all-round selection than even Eesti Laul.”

As these boys confirmed, there isn’t anything intrinsically wrong in what Latvia does.

Dziesma is still a show that has kudos in Latvia, it still is the stepping stone to greater things. But until things change in Eurovision, the stones are going to get further and further away from the shoreline and less artists, songwriters and members of the public are going to chance their arm when not only will they fail, they will drown, the pressure of your name being so heavily tarnished in negativity being too much. In this sense, it is a credit to his ethos that Ralfs came back this year to the contest, but no surprise that despite his top placement with the jury, the televotes didn’t give him any noticeable support to take a spot in the superfinal.

More than any other country, Latvia needs a decent result when it comes down to the big show this year. Latvians need to know that they can have success internationally, and that it survives beyond one night in May, it’s needs to start something of a revival. The man they have chosen has not just his fledging career on the line, but potentially the existance of Latvia in Eurovision could depend on whether his happy-go-lucky group of comrades ends up 10th or 11th from Semi Final 1, featuring your perennial qualifiers of Russia, Ukraine, Azerbaijan, Armenia, Sweden, and of course Estonia. It was a David vs. Goliath story just to make Eurovision, but for the sake of Latvia, Aarezmnieki are going to need to do much more than sing jolly Eurovision covers in Copenhagen and deliver another miracle on Tuesday 6th May.