Istanbul serenades the new Europe By Vincent Boland FT.com site; May 14, 2004
So let's see: how far has Turkey got in its ambition to join the family of European nations? Progress on human rights? Huit points (still some work to be done). Working to reunify Cyprus? Dix points (good effort, unsuccessful outcome). Getting the military to lighten up? Quatre points (generals still like to make their presence felt). But ability to produce a winning piece of Euro-pop? Douze points.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, mesdames et messieurs, Turkey won last year's Eurovision song contest, so the annual competition - complete with its multilingual, marks-out-of-12 judging system - fetches up on the shores of the Bosporus, the stretch of water that divides Europe from Asia. (or Europe from Turkey, if you prefer).
For Turkey at least, there is more to Saturday's show than the caricature of a bunch of awful Euro-singers performing awful Euro-music. Acting as host provides the country, which can be hopeless at selling itself, with a chance to show off in front of the neighbours. Be prepared for a bombardment of images of its cultural riches, from the ancient ruins of the interior to the spectacular Mediterranean coast, to Istanbul itself.
The Turks even get a chance to showcase their pop music. Turkey already has reality shows such as Big Brother and talent spectaculars such as Pop Idol. If a rattily dressed Oasis-style outfit called Athena, which will perform this year's entry, is a guide, Turkish youngsters can produce loud, one-note pop music with the best of them.
So does Eurovision success offer any hope for Turkey in its long campaign to join the European Union? There is a connection, albeit tenuous. In 2001, Estonia won, and a year later neighbouring Latvia took the laurels. Just two weeks ago, both became EU members.
On the other hand, the Eurovision family is far wider than even the EU's most optimistic enlargers envisage: participants this year include Belarus and Israel. And many contestants - including the lyricists for tonight's Turkish entry, and last year's winner - believe their songs will only stand a chance if they are sung in the language of Shakespeare and Cliff Richard. That choice may not endear the Turks to France, already sceptical about the country's EU bid.
Win or lose, hosting the Eurovision contest is a logistical tr ial run for bigger international events. Istanbul can grind to a halt during a light shower. If the Turks can successfully organise an event that is expected to attract 7,500 spectators and 1,500 journalists, then it will bode well for next month's Nato summit, which will have fewer spectators and a less danceable soundtrack, but more high-profile guests, all the way up to George W. Bush.
Who knows, if the EU's talent scouts are paying attention, Saturday's celebrations may even go a little way towards influencing December's decision on whether Turkey is fit to join the Union. That is a contest where Turkey will be satisfied with nothing less than the maximum douze points.
Вот что пишет по этому поводу Financial Times
Date: 2004-05-16 03:31 am (UTC)By Vincent Boland
FT.com site; May 14, 2004
So let's see: how far has Turkey got in its ambition to join the family of European nations? Progress on human rights? Huit points (still some work to be done). Working to reunify Cyprus? Dix points (good effort, unsuccessful outcome). Getting the military to lighten up? Quatre points (generals still like to make their presence felt). But ability to produce a winning piece of Euro-pop? Douze points.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, mesdames et messieurs, Turkey won last year's Eurovision song contest, so the annual competition - complete with its multilingual, marks-out-of-12 judging system - fetches up on the shores of the Bosporus, the stretch of water that divides Europe from Asia. (or Europe from Turkey, if you prefer).
For Turkey at least, there is more to Saturday's show than the caricature of a bunch of awful Euro-singers performing awful Euro-music. Acting as host provides the country, which can be hopeless at selling itself, with a chance to show off in front of the neighbours. Be prepared for a bombardment of images of its cultural riches, from the ancient ruins of the interior to the spectacular Mediterranean coast, to Istanbul itself.
The Turks even get a chance to showcase their pop music. Turkey already has reality shows such as Big Brother and talent spectaculars such as Pop Idol. If a rattily dressed Oasis-style outfit called Athena, which will perform this year's entry, is a guide, Turkish youngsters can produce loud, one-note pop music with the best of them.
So does Eurovision success offer any hope for Turkey in its long campaign to join the European Union? There is a connection, albeit tenuous. In 2001, Estonia won, and a year later neighbouring Latvia took the laurels. Just two weeks ago, both became EU members.
On the other hand, the Eurovision family is far wider than even the EU's most optimistic enlargers envisage: participants this year include Belarus and Israel. And many contestants - including the lyricists for tonight's Turkish entry, and last year's winner - believe their songs will only stand a chance if they are sung in the language of Shakespeare and Cliff Richard. That choice may not endear the Turks to France, already sceptical about the country's EU bid.
Win or lose, hosting the Eurovision contest is a logistical tr ial run for bigger international events. Istanbul can grind to a halt during a light shower. If the Turks can successfully organise an event that is expected to attract 7,500 spectators and 1,500 journalists, then it will bode well for next month's Nato summit, which will have fewer spectators and a less danceable soundtrack, but more high-profile guests, all the way up to George W. Bush.
Who knows, if the EU's talent scouts are paying attention, Saturday's celebrations may even go a little way towards influencing December's decision on whether Turkey is fit to join the Union. That is a contest where Turkey will be satisfied with nothing less than the maximum douze points.
The writer is the FT's Turkey correspondent