Steven Perkins

In today's episode, Second Time's the Charm as I take a look at the Eurovision Song Contest 1957 and how it helped to shape the competition into the institution that we all know and have complicated feelings about today. Plus, two big returns confirmed for 2026, but could there be more on the cards? I'm Stephen Perkins and this is Douz Poir. Hello London, we are ready for your vote. It is Monday, 3rd of November and we are back with a brand new episode. Thanks for joining me again. In a moment I'm going to be diving into the events of Eurovision 1957, but we are starting as always, with a look at the headlines from the last fortnight. By far the biggest news from Eurovision since our last episode is the revelation that both Romania and Bulgaria will be returning to the contest in 2026. Romania last participated at Eurovision in 2023 with off and on by Teodor Andre finishing in 15th place in the second semi final with zero points and failing to qualify. Despite being a big hitter in the contest for most of the 20th century, Romania had only qualified for the final once since 2018 and the lack of success combined with the expense of taking part, which had left poor Theodore with basically no budget for his entry, led broadcaster TVR to withdraw from the contest in 2024 and 2025. However, they have confirmed that they will be back next year with Dan Christian Tutorica, the president of the broadcaster, commenting, in the two years of absence we had time to better understand what did not work in the relationship between tvr, the music industry and the creators, also adding, we appreciate the understanding shown by the European Broadcasting Union which adapted its invitation to Romanian television to return to the contest. Taking into account the challenges our institution faces, it is an expression of real interest in Romania's presence in this global television event. Bulgaria, meanwhile, last competed at Eurovision in 2022 with intention by the Bulgarian supergroup Intelligent Music project, which finished 16th in the first semi final that year with 29 points. After a six year non qualifying streak from 2008 to 2013 followed by a two year withdrawal, Bulgaria seemed to finally hit their stride at the contest in 2016 with Pauligenova's if Love Was a Crime which finished in fourth place, followed by Christian Kostov's Beautiful Mess finishing as runner up in 2017. Unfortunately, broadcaster BNT has had financial constraints that led to them not competing in 2019 and withdrawing once again from 2023 to 2025. Commenting on their return to next year's contest, Director General Emil Kostikov said BNT supports talented artists and we are happy that we were able to once again provide an opportunity for a Bulgarian artist to represent our country in front of an audience of millions. Obviously, it's fantastic to see these countries, both of which have been much missed by fans since their respective withdrawals, make a return to the contest, and I don't doubt that the EBU is relieved to have them on board, considering that there are still four countries threatening to boycott Eurovision 2026 if Israel is allowed to participate. Reading between the lines of Romania's statement in particular, it sounds as though the EBU may have relaxed some of its more stringent requirements in order to secure these returns, which does make me wonder how much this was all prompted by the need to shore up their numbers in light of the proposed boycott. If so, it does raise some questions whether the EBU could have worked harder to get Bulgaria and Romania back into Eurovision before now, and simply didn't feel the need to, and indeed whether they've struck some sort of deal on the cost of competing and whether that means they're still likely to be in a significant deficit with a potential loss. Spain, the Netherlands, Ireland and Slovenia, the first two of which are major financial contributors to the contest. This is of course all speculation on my part, but it will be interesting to see if any further details about the negotiations behind these returns emerge. And speaking of returns, we may yet see more countries back for 2026. North Macedonia is currently looking to rejoin the Eurovision Song Contest, although they have not yet confirmed whether it will be as soon as next year, as broadcaster MRT had previously hinted that were targeting their return for 2027 and after their dramatic withdrawal from last year's contest, citing economic challenges and a lack of quality in the submissions for their national final, Moldova are due to hold a press conference today regarding Eurovision 2026, so we will have more news on that one in our next episode. Finally, we could be seeing a little bit of a franchise crossover next year because Alexa, the winner of the ill fated American Song Contest, is reportedly one of the participants competing in Sweden's melodie Festivalen for 2026. It's believed that Cassie Opeia, who wrote both Alexa's winning song Wonderland, and Loreen's Tattoo, amongst others, has persuaded the singer, who now performs under the name Kim Se Ri, to enter Sweden's national final. And if the mention of the American Song Contest lit a spark of recognition in you, watch this space because we are planning an episode about that in the very near future. Okay, time to turn over to the main subject of this podcast, the Eurovision Song Contest, 1957. A little over two years ago, we did an episode all about the very first Eurovision back in 1956. Obviously, it's fascinating to go back and look at the very first instalment of something that went on to become an annual event to see how the groundwork was laid. But in many ways it's more useful to go back and look at the second one. Once people had in mind that Eurovision wasn't just going to be a one off, that they were potentially building it into a format that could run and run and see how it started to evolve into the competition as we know it nowadays. Because many of the Eurovision traditions that we take for granted now hadn't been established yet, there was a lot to consider. First of all, where was it going to be? This was before we developed the convention of the winning country hosting the following year's contest. So that expectation wasn't there, except maybe it sort of was. The reason for that is, of course, that the first Eurovision was held in Switzerland, which is also where the headquarters of the EBU is. So the expectation may have been that the contest would simply be held in Switzerland every year. And given that Switzerland's ASYA had won the inaugural Eurovision Song Contest with Ruafran, it would have ended up being hosted by the winning country through sheer coincidence. Except Swiss broadcaster SRGSSR didn't actually want to host the contest a second time, so a new host needed to be found and thus the tradition of the Eurovision Song Contest being a peripatetic event was established. Hans Otto Grunveldt, the programme director of regional German broadcaster hr, offered to host the contest in the German state of Hesse, which the EBU agreed to. And so we found ourselves in the city of Frankfurt am main for Eurovision 1957 on 3rd of March, to date the earliest in the year that the contest has been held, There were three new countries who signed up for that Austria, Denmark and the United Kingdom. Austria and Denmark had originally planned to take part in 1956, but hadn't confirmed their participation in time. And the United Kingdom was a newcomer to the whole Eurovision experience in 1956. Of course, each of the seven countries competing had submitted two entries, but with the field of nations broadening slightly, it was determined that it would be enough to have each country competing just once. Other adjustments were made to the competition's format and rules as well. Songs could now be performed by up to two people on stage, and the scoring system was refreshed. Now each country had a jury of 10 people, each of whom would award one point to their favourite song, so there were a maximum of 10 points available from each country. This year also saw the introduction of what would become a crucial Eurovision rule that you cannot vote for your own country. Remember, the scores of the 1956 contest were never made publicly available. The contest simply ended with the announcement of the winner. But in the interest of translation, transparency or drama, or perhaps a little of both, the producers of the 1957 contest decided to add a sequence in which the presenter would call up a representative of each country's jury and receive the votes live, with a scoreboard in the studio being updated following each vote. 1957 also saw the establishment of one more Eurovision the returning artist. Both Lys Assiar and the Netherlands Cory Brocken, who had performed one of the two Dutch entries in 1956, came to compete again. I think it's interesting at this point to look back at the traditions that could have been established here. Liz Assiya's return could have set up a scenario where the winner of Eurovision was expected to come back the following year to defend their title. But sadly, that never came to pass. The last artist to even attempt such a feat being Germany's Lina, who returned in 2011 following her 2010 victory with Satellite and finished a credible 10th place with the, in my view, hugely underrated, taken by a stranger. One more rule that I think we should bear in mind before we get into the nitty gritty is that, as with the previous year, there was a recommendation for none of songs to last longer than three and a half minutes. And yes, that will be very relevant later. So let's take a look at how the 1957 contest went down. I should add here that 1957 is the oldest Eurovision that exists in its entirety in the archives, because the first contest consists mostly of audio clips and newsreel footage of the winner's performance. But you can indeed go back and watch the whole of Eurovision 1957 on YouTube. It takes you just over an hour and frankly, I recommend it because it is a lot of fun. The contest is hosted by German actress Anaid Iplischian. Apologies to her for the fact that I've almost certainly butchered her name. And one of the first noteworthy things about it is that we definitely haven't established the precedent of the contest being bilingual, although we'll see Anaid speaking a couple of different languages when it comes to the voting. The hosting of the contest itself is in German throughout I speak enough German to Just about be able to get the gist of it. And it is your standard fare of welcoming everybody to the contest, explaining how it's all going to work and introducing the evening's musical director, Willy Birkin. Not to rest too much on national stereotypes, but the whole thing is done with a very German efficiency. She's there reading from a big folder and once she's finished introducing the first act, she snaps it shut and briskly walks off stage. There's no jokes, no banter, we are just straight into the show. Entry number one is Belgium's Bobby Janpen with Straatdointe, which I believe translates as street tune. It's a good choice for the opening song with a kind of hypnotic merry go round feel to it. And it begins with a whistled refrain from Bobby Yan, which frankly, is the sort of thing I would love to see more of at Eurovision. Even now. I like that he sounds there quite rakishly with his hands in his pockets while he's performing. And the song is fun and jaunty. It does go on a little bit, but it never really outstays its welcome. One thing that I do think is a slight shame about this contest is that the entrance to the stage is right behind the microphone, where Ane does her intros for each of the songs. So it is quite distracting trying to focus on what she's saying when the previous performer is walking off in the background and then the next one is stomping down the stairs while she's still talking. It's not ruinous by any means, but it is just a sign that they were still working out a few of the kinks in how to stage a broadcast like this. Song number two is Luxembourg's Danielle Duprez with Tant du Pen or so Much Pain. This is a big ballady lament and our first real performance of the evening. Given how much mileage she gets out of her big sad eyes and her anguished expression, it's very theatrical, in a good way. She's really giving it 100%, which I like. And there's a first rate vocal throughout and it all builds to a big crescendo where she's clutching her temples and looking incredibly pained and distressed. So performance wise, I can't fault this one. The third song is the first of our three debuts for tonight, the United Kingdom. Although I should point out that we are referred to as England throughout the show by host and jurors alike. I'm going to say the uk, though, just for the record, our representative is Patricia Bredin with All, which is another ballad, but more of an operatic soprano style one. Interestingly, while Belgium and Luxembourg were very much performing to the cameras, she's mostly performing to the room, with an occasional look down the lens just for variation. This entry was also noteworthy for another reason. For a long time it held the record for the shortest Eurovision entry, clocking in at a trim 1 minute and 53 seconds. Indeed, the whole thing does kind of read like Patricia is squeezing Eurovision into her very busy social schedule and wants to get the whole thing done and dusted and still make her dinner reservations in town at 9 o'. Clock. Sadly for the UK, this record was bested in 2015 by Perti Kurukan Nimi Paivat's Aina Munpita for Finland at a mere 1 minute, 27 seconds. By a delightful quirk of scheduling, we go from the song which held the record for Eurovision's shortest entry for a very long time, to the song which still holds the record for the longest entry in Eurovision history, Italy's Nunzio Gallo with Corda della Miacchitara or Strings Of My Guitar, which is a whopping 5 minutes and 9 seconds long. There were calls at the time for Italy to be disqualified for so blatantly ignoring the restrictions on maximum song length, but ultimately they were allowed to take part, Although this whole drama did lead to the song length rules being much more rigidly enforced from 1958 onwards. For what it's worth, this song could definitely use a bit of judicious trimming, particularly because the opening guitar solo sounds as much like a tune up as it does anything else. But it is a good performance of a generally pleasant song and I didn't particularly find that I was getting bored by the time it finally wound up. Also, I don't particularly blame Italy here for the rule breaking. Remember, this was only the second contest and a lot of things were still in flux. They weren't the only country to overshoot the time limit, but they were just the ones that really pushed their luck the most. And sometimes you do need a country to push back on a rule in order to establish just how necessary it actually is. And that's kind of what happened here, nice and early on in the process, we established that we do need a time limit at Eurovision and it does need to be quite unflinchingly policed, otherwise the whole thing goes off the rails a bit. Song number five was Austria's Bob Martin with Vohin Kleiner's Pony or Ware Little Pony. I'm not going to spend too much time on this one because I covered it already in Our History of Austria a month ago. But suffice to say, it's our first real uptempo, actively cheerful tune of the evening, but a little bit lightweight compared to the serious ballads that most of the other countries were sending. Song number six is the Netherlands, Cory Brocken with Net Al Storn, or just like back then, yes, Cory Brocken of the infamous Ulrika Johnson. A long time ago, was it incident from 1998. This is another song that feels really theatrical in a very good way. It feels like a big character establishing song from the first act of a musical and the camera is close in on her face, capturing every emotion. I also think it was really smart to have the violin player in shot behind her for the violin solos, which are such a key part of the song. It's definitely one of the most beautiful vocals of the night and a really lovely song from all angles. Next up is Germany's Margot Hielscher with Telephone Telephone. Now, you might think that staging is a fairly modern concern at Eurovision, and I'm here to tell you that you are wrong, because all the way back in 1957, Margot bought a prop. She's got an actual telephone on stage with her, which she uses in her performance, which is essentially one half of a phone conversation. It does admittedly come across slightly gimmicky, and I don't think this is one of the stronger songs in the field, but as an overall conceptualised performance, I think Germany had a very good idea here. And again, it's another precedent being set, which we'll come to see repercussions of much further down the line. Song number eight is Paul Desjardins for France with La Belle Amour or Beautiful Love. This is another ballad, but a little bit more uptempo than some of the others that we've had this evening. And it is performed delightfully by Paul. Song number nine brings us to the final debutante of the evening and also the first duo in Eurovision history, Denmark's Berte Wilke and Gustav Winckler with Schieber Schall seile Inatt or the Ship Will Sail Tonight. Much like Germany, they've made an effort to represent the themes of the song on stage, turning up in hats and coats and really doing what they can to play the scene of a couple saying an emotional goodbye on the harbour side, leading to one of Eurovision's earliest shocking moments, when they had a full, passionate kiss at the end of the song. And that had to have been pretty Racy for light Entertainment in 1957, and closing the show for the performance segment was returning champion Liz Assier for Switzerland with l' enfant Courgetee or the Child I Was. It's another lovely ballad in an evening that has admittedly been rather top heavy with them, but it is a further showcase of her fantastic voice. And remember, in the space of two years, this is her third attempt at representing Switzerland at Eurovision, because she was one of the few people who did both of her country's songs in 1956. Once that last performance is over, there's no chat, no interval act, no time wasting. We simply get down to business. As an aide and her big folder return and she walks over to a part of the set where there's a map showing all of the competing countries, each one bearing a little bulb that lights up when she's on the phone to them, as well as a little desk with some telephonic equipment. She's joined by an assistant who I don't think was ever named on screen and who doesn't particularly speak on camera, but is clearly there as a trained telephonist, and whose job is to make sure all of the calls connect smoothly and help an aid keep track of all the paperwork. As I mentioned before, we have a scoreboard, and in a case of early instalment weirdness, it displays the numbers and titles of the songs, but not the country that they were representing, which does mean that if you weren't keeping notes, it can be quite hard to remember which one was which. Also, technology in 1957 being what it was, the scores are updated manually by stage technicians who are having to do very quick mental arithmetic and who largely do a good job, although there are a couple of minor instances of them mishearing the scores. I won't go through the whole scoring process in exhaustive detail, but it's carried out in reverse order of performance. So we start with Switzerland and work our way back to Belgium. I will say the Netherlands take an early lead, getting seven of the 10 available points from Switzerland, and they are never overtaken at any point. In fact, by the time the penultimate country, Luxembourg, have given their scores, Corrie Brockin is already more than 10 points ahead of her nearest rival and has won before we even get the result from the Belgian jury, although this isn't actually pointed out during the broadcast, and that's fair enough, because poor Anaid is having to keep track of all of this with reams of paper on the desk in front of her, and I Don't think it would be particularly fair on her to have to make that kind of call in the heat of the moment anyway, considering that this was the first time that the Eurovision Song Contest had attempted any of this. Remember, the juries in 1956 were actually on site in Switzerland. It does go fairly smoothly. There's usually a bit of a delay in connecting most of the calls. And there is a slight communication problem with the Danish representative, who clearly doesn't speak very good German, so he switches to English. And it turns out that Anet speaks very good English as well, so they do their scores that way. I would say, in all honesty, considering what an undertaking this would have been at the time, the scoring sequence is a resounding success. Which is just as well, because if it had been a disaster, they might have gone back to just announcing the winner again and think of all the delicious stats we would have lost out on. In the end, it is a romp home for the Netherlands, who finish with 31 points, well ahead of second place France on 17. Denmark are in third with 10 points. Luxembourg and Germany tie for fourth with 8 points. Italy finish sixth with 7 points. The United Kingdom finishes seventh with 6 points. Belgium and Switzerland finish joint eighth with 5 points. And Austria are in last place with just 3 points. From there, Corrie Bracken is invited back on to receive her flowers and we get a glimpse of the very first Eurovision winner's medal for the song's composer. After a reprise of Net El Sthoon, Anaid returns to thank us for watching. And in a little under 70 minutes, the whole thing is done and dusted. It's fascinating to go back to this early stage in the contest's history and see how, although a lot of things worked very differently, so much of the shape of the modern contest was already in place. From staging and props to the scoring sequence, 1957 makes a fascinating case study of the show, figuring out what it wanted to be, experimenting a little bit and nailing down what worked and what didn't. Contest in a new location each year. Sure. Exciting sequence in which the scores revealed step by step on live TV. Definitely songs that last for more than five minutes. Absolutely not. Never again. 1956 may have been the birth of Eurovision, but 1957 was the year that it figured out what it really wanted to be. That's it for this episode. As always, a huge thank you for listening and spending your time with us. We will be back in two weeks and I hope you will join us then. Please don't forget to subscribe on your podcast platform of choice if you haven't already done so, to make sure you don't miss any of our upcoming episodes. And if you have a moment while you're there and you reckon we're worth it, please do leave us a five star review to help us climb up the charts and find even more listeners. Until next time, good night Europe and good morning Australia.