Tag: Italy

The Italian national broadcaster had to be bribed to come back and to be fair, they’ve entered reasonable songs since. But nothing that blows anyone away.

  • 20 September – They don’t want advice about how to be happy

    20 September – They don’t want advice about how to be happy

    In view most humble of views, today’s song is a classic. An absolute classic. I don’t mind admitting I wept when I first heard it, and it still gets to me some 25 years later. In its contest, it only finished fourth, but it was behind three songs in English when we had no free language rule. Praise enough. But who sings it?

    Today’s late great birthday girl Domenica Berté, better known to us as Mia Martini had already performed 15 years earlier in sunny London. She’d onl finished a lowly 13th out of 18. Not undaunted, she came back in Malmö and only finished fourth. Today’s song is perhaps the better remembered of her two attempts. Enjoy this masterpiece.

    Mia would have been 70 today.

  • I’ve been Challenged

    I’ve been Challenged

    I have been challenged by NickD of this parish to introduce this next song without using a specific phrase that I associate with AlBano and Romina…

    NO!  I CAN’T – HE LEFT HER?!?!?  CAN YOU BELIEVE IT – HE….LEFT….HER

    (#fail)

    This would be the Italian golden couple’s first attempt at the contest (though IMHO their seminal 1985 song Magic Oh Magic is much better and, well, with backing singers dressed as Italian flags what’s not to love?)

    But this … this is just … well … see for yourself, but let’s see if you can spot who forgets their words and when. I bet you can.

  • Italy to the wonning!

    Italy to the wonning!

    Yet again, if this doesn’t win, then there is a problem with the whole voting system.

    Perfect, absolutely perfect. It has all of the classic Eurovision ingredients in one massive lump. It’s energetic, it’s popular and should have Francesco getting the TV audience and juries eating out of the palm of his hand. It has the Monkey – that doesn’t really need explaining but it will be in the 40 seconds that the commentator has before the song starts.

    I’m struggling to see who this could lose votes to, and also trying to be objective. It’s livelier than Portugal, more mature than Bulgaria, a better package than Sweden. Junk doesn’t win SanRemo because the Italians care about it more than this contest, but make no mistake they have come here to win and they just well might.

    Video courtesy of esckaz

    From the official site

    And as it happened from the Eurovision Ireland crew

  • Italy – Alé!

    Italy – Alé!

    It’s all eyes on the hot favourite Italy as they have their first rehearsal. It’s good! Obviously some camera angles to sort (though these are already better by the second run through). The backdrop has an almost paisley design to begin with, which transforms into coloured ball motifs, praying hands, and the gorilla, peeking from behind a tree, spinning around Francesco on the floor LED.

    The evolution of man is depicted in rainbow colours. There are four backing singers in a line. There are some shots of the audience where some of the ‘alés’ will be.

    Even in a rehearsal Francesco has bags of energy. A good, solid first go for Italy. I’m very relieved, as I’m quite heavily emotionally invested in this winning. #pizzafortwoweeks

    Monty x

  • Italia, il tuo tempo per brillare è ora

    Italia, il tuo tempo per brillare è ora

    That …
    Was …
    Fucking …
    Amazing!

    Where do I start? Well, for starters, if any of your local bookmakers are offering even money (or better), get some cash on it now. DO IT NOW because this will be odds-on before too long.

    There is movement by Francesco, the backing singers are on stage, and everything looks exactly how it should – down to the backing wall of lights showing the monkey dance in time with Francesco (and next Saturday along with the 10000 people that will be in the hall).

    It’s slightly more energetic than you are used to and, to my surprise, the shoehorning in of English made no actual difference at all to the overall concept. The monkey doesn’t look out of place either.

    Francesco does most of the things that have been seen by the Eurovisionistas – but not by the viewing public.

    If perfection were a performance, then this was it. Three minutes of pure genius. If Italy haven’t been ready to win before, they bloody are now.

  • The Seven Strangest Eurovision Venues Of All Time

    The Seven Strangest Eurovision Venues Of All Time

    So you might think that Ukraine’s chosen venue for staging this year’s contest is a little unusual. Indeed, to the untrained eye, a convention centre in a less glamorous corner of town might seem a little insalubrious. But believe us, it’s nowhere near the strangest that we’ve seen. Indeed, it’s not even the first convention centre to have held the show in its 62 runnings. Yes, for in among all the theatres and enormodomes and football grounds, there have been some proper weird haunts to have hosted our favourite singing show. So let’s have a look at what we think are seven strangest of all time…

    1962 – Villa Louvigny, Luxembourg City
    The early days of the contest were all relatively modest affairs, usually taking place in some municipal theatre or television sound stage in a provincial city that happened to be available at the time. But it wasn’t until Luxembourg’s first shot at holding the competition that things began to go a little off-piste. Located smack bang in the middle of the leafy Municipal Park, just outside of their capital’s medieval heart, the Louvigny was once the site of an old fortress that defended the city from the varied marauders of Europe. But in the 1920s a stark municipal building had been erected on the site that looked more reminiscent of a complex of council offices in Kent. But despite that it had a half decent function room, so when the Lëtzebuergers unexpectedly won in Cannes the year before, the broadcasters at CLT decided to use their headquarters as the venue for the following year’s shindig. They must have liked it, because they used it again four years later, after their next victory. These days it is more familiar to the locals as The Luxembourg Ministry of Health.


    1967 – The Hofburg Imperial Palace, Vienna
    When you’re thinking of somewhere grand to hold a big event in your city, don’t mess about with tawdry TV studios or sports halls – think of the biggest, grandest most opulent gaff that your capital has to offer. And so it was that the 1967 edition of the show found itself at the ancestral seat of the Hapsburgs. Dating in parts back to 1279, it’s one of the most intensely ornate public buildings in the whole of Europe, its architectural styles ranging from gothic to baroque with many others inbetween, which go to make it look like an enormous wedding cake plonked down bang in the middle of town. However, you’ll be lucky to find even a single reference to its connection to Eurovision in any of their official literature – although you’d suspect that they’ve had enough of their own history to be keeping them busy without having to remember some spangly telly spectacle from the days of black and white. Imagine if the next time we hosted the contest (and there will be a next time, although possibly not in our lifetimes) they held it on the lawns of Buckingham Palace. Old Queenie Liz would love it. Well, we’ve held it in stranger places, after all…


    1982 – International Centre, Harrogate
    Yes, when it comes to picking unusual structures in which to hold this funny old show, we Brits have got a pretty decent track record. We started out by ticking off the prestigious London venues like The Albert and Festival Halls, before going out on the road to Edinburgh and Brighton – and even eventually Birmingham. But when the BBC selected a convention centre in a lesser known spa town in Yorkshire, even the most geography savvy Englishers asked: “Where’s the feck’s that?”. Ou est Harrogate indeed! But it wasn’t quite as strange a decision as it may first have appeared. Dear Auntie Beeb had the place on contract to film the then-popular talent contest The David Essex Showcase (what do you mean you can’t remember it?), and obviously extended their option for another week, seeing as they probably had all their kit up there and everything. But this has all been forgotten in the mists of time and the expanding of the continent – so much so that it must be an utter puzzle to the young Eurovision fan of today as to quite why we chose to hold such a prestigious show in such an out of the way place. However, we wouldn’t be the last…


    1991 – Studio 15 di Cinecittà, Rome
    You can always trust the Italians to make the most simple things exceedingly complicated. After all, why hold a massive international television spectacle in a decent sized arena in town when you can ship it all out to a massive movie sound stage on the edge of the suburbs? To be fair to them, they had originally elected to hold it in the contest’s spiritual home of Sanremo, but some bright spark upstairs thought it would be safer to take it to the fringes of the capital, seeing as the first Gulf War and the Yugoslavian conflict were causing security concerns across the continent. Quite what the logic behind that decision was we don’t know, but it brought forth a maelstrom of confusion and complication and difficulty. And to top it all, they chose past winners Gigliola Cinquetti and Toto Cutugno to host the thing, turning the whole event into an unintentionally awkward titter fest by which all subsequent dodgy hostings would be measured. So if old Monkey Boy wins in Kiev this year, surely the pressure is on to find an even more inappropriate venue for 2018.


    1993 – Green Glens Arena, Millstreet
    There must have been something in the air in the nineties when it came to fool’s errands and comedy venues. Surely someone at the EBU must have seen the folly in letting RTE hold the thing in what newsreader Nicholas Witchell called “A cowshed in Ireland” after the complications and excesses of the Rome incident just two years earlier. Even writing it now the very thought of putting on the biggest show on the continent in a rural village some 30 miles out of Cork seems ludicrous. But somehow local businessman Noel C Duggan managed to charm his nation’s TV top bods into dragging the whole show out into the wilds on the promise of using his still unfinished equestrian centre for free. It all seems so romantic now, but would you fancy schlepping all the way out to the sticks from the nearest decent hotels in Cork and Killarney every morning for a week? You won’t find many competition veterans who had to make the lengthy trips there and back who will speak terribly highly of it – although it must be said that somebody did rather kindly extend the platform of the local railway station to cater for the extra footfall. Surely somebody’s going to make a heartwarming knockabout comedy film about it all one day. Oh how we’ll all laugh.


    2012 – Crystal Hall, Baku
    You had to admire Azerbaijan’s can do attitude when it came to hosting Eurovision. “OK, so we don’t have a venue quite big enough to hold the competition. So let’s build one.” No messing, they went straight out, cleared some space on a jetty in the shadow of their iconic giant flagpole and put up a massive great spiky tent for everyone to sing along in. Heavens, they were still building it around us all when we got there, and the floors were sticky with fresh paint for at least a week. And it wasn’t just the edifice itself that was unusual. The greasy waters of the Caspian Sea were lapping at its surrounds, with big blobs of oil percolating from the seabed, and with the strong whiff of the black stuff permeating our nostrils it was like nowhere this contest had ever taken us before – especially with the somewhat menacing gunboats circulating a respectable distance away from the promontory. Not only that, but its exposed position meant that it was at the mercy of the harsh winds whipping across the water from the arid deserts of Turkmenistan – and boy did they make that big top flap about something rotten.


    2014 – B&W Halls, Copenhagen
    Another nation noted for mixing it up a bit, the Danes’ debut hosting saw the artists performing in a quaint hall at the centre of The Tivoli fun fair, while their second shipped us all into a massive and impersonal football ground out in the suburbs. But they surpassed themselves four contests back by converting a massive boat factory in a deserted industrial neighbourhood into the home of showbiz for a fortnight. And as much as the more esoteric among us enjoyed the abandoned urban despair of the hall’s surroundings, simply naming the whole area Eurovision Island didn’t enamour itself to the more usual Eurovisionist who didn’t fancy the boat ride and weren’t too keen on getting their shoes dusty. But while the whole affair nearly bankrupted the city, you can’t knock them for trying something new, and the impressive interiors gave us one of the finest backdrops to the contest in years. Just as long as you weren’t sat behind one of the massive beams in the cheap seats.

    So that was our list of what we consider the strangest venues in the contest’s history. But do you disagree? And have we left anywhere important out? Let us know your thoughts and your stories below…

  • 25 February – It’s the first time it’s happened to me

    25 February – It’s the first time it’s happened to me

    Do you think Italy could win our favourite TV show any time soon? They’ve been putting in the groundwork, and have almost been teasing us since their return in 2011. They’ve been saying “We can win this whenever we want, but we don’t want to just yet”. That almost backfired in 2015, but luckily one of Il Volo messed things up in the Friday night jury final.

    As you’ll know the fans out there are saying good things about the 2017 Italian entry, so it’s apt that today’s birthday girl did her thing for Italy in Stockholm last year. Francesca Michielin had the stage to herself, except for a range of fruit, vegetables, seeds and trees. All very eco-friendly. Perhaps this wanton display of flora put the non-vegetarians off voting for her.

    Francesca is 22 today.

    Buon compleanno, Francesca!

  • 20 December – Yes, yes, yes, yes. Or, erm, not quite

    20 December – Yes, yes, yes, yes. Or, erm, not quite

    We’ve all seen those winners that ran away with the contest they took part in. You might have thought it was a new phenomenon when Mumbling Loreen (not to be confused with Soreen) got 802 sets of twelve points. Or monkey-boy Rybak fiddled his way to a similarly big score. But these big victories go back a long way, and one of the biggest was in those monochrome days of 1964. Today’s birthday girl Gigliola Cinquetti scored almost three times as many points as the poor unfortunate she beat into second place (Matt Monro). As we all know, the video of 1964 is very patchy, so here’s Ms Cinquetti’s other song (from 1974), which would have won if it wasn’t for a pesky foursome from the north.

    Gigliola is 69 today.

    Buon compleanno, Gigliola!

    https://youtu.be/QCWw3beZV8Q

  • La Bella Italia? – Mostly

    La Bella Italia? – Mostly

    If you have been reading these missives, and I know plenty of you have, you’ll have noticed that I’ve drawn comparisons between ages and countries. France were good in Eurovision’s formative years, the UK did great business in its adolescence. However, this makes Italy more like the moody teenager: happy just so long as they get their way. Stomping their feet at the slightest rebuke. But that was then and this is now. This is the story of how Italy grew up.

    How did it all start?

    downloadItaly was one of the original seven competitors back in 1956 but, if the truth be told, they weren’t that much in love with the contest. Before their first win (in 1964), the high points came with two third-placed songs. A forgettable ditty from Emilio Pericoli (of Quando, Quando fame) and a song that still has people raising their glasses. In 1958, Domenico Modungo took part with Nel blu dipinto di blu. Undeterred by not winning, Domenico re-recorded the song, changed the title to Volare, and a monster was born. As an aside, Domenico returned to the contest eight years later and ended up in last place.

    The first victory

    The monster was clearly sleeping, as it took until 1964 for Italy to register a victory.

    The winner of the 1964 San Rgigliola_cinquetti_1966emo festival, Gigliola Cinquetti, performed No Ho L’eta (I’m not old enough) in Copenhagen. The sixteen year old chanteuse – I’m sure there is an Italian word for this – walked the contest, scoring 49 points, nearly three times as many as perennial bridesmaid, the UK.

    Was this the start of an Italian Renaissance? – well yeahno, to be honest. A fair few wilderness years followed, until the Gigliola came back, aged 26 and had another go with Si – that famous song that could have swung a divorce referendum. She was runner-up to Abba – with an infinitely better song in this writer’s opinion. It suggested that the Italians were on an upward curve. Indeed they came third with Era in 1975, but soon reverted to type in the late seventies thanks to a run of forgettable songs

    80’s coming back? – no thanks!g831

    They went away for a bit (in 81, 82 and 86), citing the old “lack of interest” chestnut, which could well have hidden the actual truth – they weren’t doing very well. 1987 brough us Gente di Mare – and it became a bit of a thing across Europe (well the artistes did), and then …

    With the Maastricht Treaty signed, RAI decided to enter Toto Cutugno and his song “All Together 1992” – no guesses as to the theme of this song. Even though most juries loved it, the UK – in a telling early Brexit moment – gave it nul points.

    sanremo-festival-2012-nationalturk-0448Italian telly then had to host 1991’s song contest and chose San Remo … only to realise, with mere weeks to go, that it was too small (and too dangerous) a place to be for the delegations of 20+ countries. RAI moved it to Rome. Sadly to a film studio with a cobbled-together set, flowers from San Remo and the two previous Italian contest winners on presenting duties. They spoke little English, it was all a bit last-minute. What could possibly go wrong? Apart from everything.

    RAI do you do this to us?

    0-interest-v2Following this debacle, they struggled on for a couple more years. After the 1993 contest, RAI once again played its “lack of interest” card. Italy pretty much checked out, despite fans begging for more. RAI stuck to their guns … apart from 1997, when (depending on who you believe) they either forgot not to enter, or as heads of the EBU felt obliged to send a song.

    It felt at the time like the Italians thought they could turn up and win. Despite a respectable fourth placing, they had a massive sulk and refused to play for the next 13 years. The EBU tempted finally Italy back in 2010 with a guaranteed place in the final.

    And that’s how it goes with the Italians. They either think they are too good for the contest, and believe that they should win even when they put in something average. Or their song and performer gets widely tipped for victory and then fails through over confidence.

    Back in the 80s, they became inward-looking. And then someone worked out that if Eurovision didn’t understand Italy, Italy had to understand Eurovision. When they came back in 2011 most observers expected more of the same, but they said “no” and entered … jazz … and not just any old jazz. Nobody actually rated Raphael. There was surprise when he came up on the rails and ended second. He basically told Europe, “Look, we’re back, we can put anything in and you will vote for it ‘cos it’s better than most of the other things in this contest.” And he was right.

    Are they actually the comeback kids?

    What Raphael started, others continued. Nina Zilli’s song was fabulous, Marco too was widely tipped – and had he not staggered on looking strung out, might have stood a chance. Emma was a bit shouty and wrong for Europe – thankfully RAI realised this too late.download-1

    Then in 2015, fauxpera arrived on the Eurovision stage in the shape of Il Volo singing Grande Amore. On the face of it, they had it all. Light opera, strong voices, enough ticks in the jury boxes to score massive points combined with the familiarity and assuredness that only televoters can tune into … however Il Volo forgot one thing … well specifically one of them briefly forgot how to sing mid-way through the jury final, and they were punished. Over confidence perhaps? Francesca had a belting song this year and touched hearts, but the package wasn’t televoter friendly.

    Quando, Quando, Quando?

    maxresdefaultUnlike the other big five countries, all of whom have something wrong with their song or selection or outlook, RAI don’t. The San Remo festival, is the granddaddy of national finals, specifically designed to showcase popular Italian song. Like Eurovision, the winner is picked by a combination of jury and telephone votes. It showcases new talent over five evenings. Ita established pedigree puts the right type of songs in front of the right type of audience. All in all this means that the Italian Eurovision song has already won a televised singing contest. How many times have we wished that big five broadcasters would do the same?

    That is why Italy is uniquely placed to win this contest any time it damn well chooses. It can tinker with the formula year after year until it gets it right, because it starts with a strong foundation. The only thing it doesn’t know is what other nations are putting in, but does that matter when a broadcaster is confident that its song will score a decent result 8 times out of 10?

    Hiding in plain sight

    Broadcasting-wise, San Remo airs in prime time. Five nights a week on RAI 1. It isn’t hidden away on a Thursday, or hidden on the radio, or relegated to a low-traffic channel (yes I’m looking at you BBC). San Remo is out there, in your face. Everyone knows that the winner gets the opportunity to go to Eurovision. The artists know, the public know, and yet the Italians vote for what they like. They don’t try to second guess what might score well at Eurovision.

    The only thing I would say is that the RAI audience need to see more Eurovision. Viewing numbers jumped from virtually nothing to just above gmnothing in the last five years. On the fragmented Italian broadcasting map, RAI need to make the END result stand out as much as San Remo. How do they do this? – well they’ve pushed it onto the main channel, so that’s a good thing, but more cross promotion is needed.

    Overall, though, Italy have this recipe spot on. It’s a mix that of late has lacked the final punch, but the entrees have been delicious, and when they decide that the time and their infrastructure is right, they will pull a song out of the delectable magicians hat that is San Remo. They’ll present it to Europe and throw down the gauntlet: “Go on then, are you not entertained??”