Reykjavík Grapevine - 16.03.2018, Blaðsíða 8
In a previous Grapevine article, British
journalist and unabashed Eurovision-
obsessé Joanna Smith described Eurovi-
sion as, “The time of year when half the
population of Europe goes crazy—flag-
waving, song-singing, chaos-inducing
crazy—and the other half wants every-
one to know that they don’t even care
about Eurovision… whilst they watch
the entire thing and live-tweet it ‘iron-
ically.’” These fated lines are perhaps
the most comprehensive description
ever written about the most important
competition in the world: Eurovision.
Euro-motherfucking-vision.
Beauty reigns
Iceland is no exception to the craze.
They love the thing. But while the
country is known worldwide for
some of the most expressive and
fantastic musicians around, for some
reason they’ve still not snatched that
coveted first place. It’s been a life-
long embarrassment for most of
the population—one that is prob-
ably responsible for the amount of
antidepressants prescribed here.
In 2009 though, the valiant efforts
of chanteuse Jóhanna Guðrún garnered
second place with her emotional pop
ballad, “Is It True?”. Donning a sky blue
tiered gown, Jóhanna sang her heart
out in front of an ethereal background
of moons, ships and dolphins. It was an
affecting performance. Jóhanna’s voice
is perfectly tuned, strongly resonant,
clean and controlled and “Is It True?”
showcased it to its highest potential.
A moment to remember
With her win, Jóhanna immediately
took up reign as an Icelandic national
hero. The 2009 Eurovision contest,
and particularly that fatal key change
in the middle of the song, became one
of those pivotal I-remember-exactly-
where-I-was situations, much like 9/11
or Valentina’s elimination on RuPaul’s
Drag Race.
That said, if you’re one of those
weird North Americans completely
unfamiliar with Eurovision, it’s a song
contest where every country in Europe
(and now bizarrely Australia) competes
to dominate with their best inspira-
tional banger or ballad. At Eurovision,
cheesiness takes precedent and tears
fall freely. There’s also lots of confetti.
Words:
Hannah Jane
Cohen
Photo:
Helgi Ómarsson
WHAT HAVE WE WON?:
Jóhanna
Guðrún’s Second
Place Triumph
Hafnafjörðite drops truth-bomb
in Europe-wide broadcast,
Iceland still reeling
Voted ‘ugliest word’ by Icelanders in
2013, ‘geirvarta’ is the Icelandic word
for nipple. This compound, however,
is much funnier than its English coun-
terpart. In fact, it literally means ‘wart
with a dot’—which is neither accurate
nor particularly appealing but surely
amusing.
The word ‘geir’ means ‘spear,” which
prompted Icelanders to adopt the popu-
lar expression “spear warts” to refer to
nipples. Geir, however, also means ‘tiny
dot.’ Since there is indeed a tiny dot at
the end of that odd wart-like protuber-
ance that is the nipple, science website
Visindavefurinn thinks it’s is likely that
the word ‘geirvarta’ originated from
that.
We’ll let you decide on which side of
Icelanders’ self-deprecating humour you
want to be on! AD
8 The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 04 — 2018
READER'S LETTER
An Icy
Welcome
Dear Grapevine,
The weather has been very nice here
in Reykjavík lately, the sun is shining
and so on, but still there is something
I can’t stop thinking about and have
to share with someone publicly. It’s
about the ice on the pavements,
and my question is: WHY? Why does
nobody take care of it during the
colder months? Maybe some walks
on ice should be organised for the
city officials, so they could become
aware of how dangerous this is and
how easy it is to slip on it?
Angry Anna
Dear Angry Anna,
We empathise with you and
thoroughly understand your anger.
This is a serious matter—people get
hurt because of this, and not enough
is being done to solve the problem
(no, throwing down some salt is not
enough, and everyone knows it). We
truly hope that someone from the
Reykjavík City Council is going to
read this letter, take a long look in
the mirror and ask themselves: “Did I
fail in my life as a public servant and a
human being by neglecting this issue
for so long?”
In the meantime, let’s just enjoy
the current ice-free, non-slippery
pavement conditions and hope
for the best for the future. Or we
could always start obsessing about
something else, for example, air
pollution and smog. Additionally, we
recommend taking a look at our new
column: “Angry Reacts Only: The Latest
Geysers Of Rage On Icelandic Social
Media” at the back of this magazine
for some more inspiration.
Ice-free and grippy regards,
The Grapevine
One of these snowflakes
everyone's talking about
LÓABORATORIUM
March 4th, 1951 changed the cultural
landscape of Iceland forever, thanks
to the United States Navy. On this
day, Armed Forces Radio and Televi-
sion Service Keflavík—known to
locals as “Kanaútvarpið” (“Yankee
radio”)—first went on the air.
Over the first few years, the station’s
range would encompass a large area of
Iceland, but their humble beginnings
were in Keflavík. Here, in a working class
town that usually didn’t see much in the
way of popular culture, young Iceland-
ers were introduced to rock ‘n’ roll for
the first time. The effect was electric.
It wasn’t long before Icelanders started
forming their own rock bands, often
times performing covers of American
rock standards with Icelandic lyrics (one
of the most successful bands to do this,
Keflavík’s own Hljómar, would perform
a concert of Beatles covers with Icelan-
dic lyrics on this same day in 1964).
Over time, these bands stopped
doing covers and started making
original compositions. And it was
thus that Iceland set itself on the
path to becoming the musical
dynamo that it is known as today.
The station wasn’t popular with
everyone. The fact that the Icelandic
broadcasting authorities had granted
a special channel to a foreign armed
force caused much consternation
amongst many members of Parlia-
ment, especially the Progressive Party.
Others hated the station for its mili-
tary origins. One of the ways in which
this manifested itself was in 1969
when a group of leftist radicals raided
the television studio, spray painting
“Che Guevara” and “Free Cuba” on the
walls while yelling anti-war slogans.
The broadcasting service nonethe-
less persisted until 2006, when US
military forces officially (mostly) left
Iceland. Be that as it may, their legacy
lives on. For better or worse, the
American Navy played an important
role in laying the foundation for the
vibrant and unique Icelandic music
scene that we know and love today.
Ge
irv
ar
ta
First
This is what Icelandic rock used to look like
Words:
Paul Fontaine
WORD OF
THE ISSUE
THIS DAY IN ICELANDIC HISTORY
Armed Forces
Radio And TV
Comes To Iceland