Dave Cargill
On the ground in 1996
Croatia and Portugal were elated. There was cheering, hugging, the excitement you expect at the close of Eurovision. But in the large room where delegations gathered after the show in Oslo, there was quiet in the air. Some acts, like Norway, were clearly thrilled. Others, like Belgium, were visibly disappointed. I was standing with the Irish delegation. Notably, nobody waved their flag.
They were folded. All of them. Only opened briefly for the official photos. I’ve never seen that before or since.
Eimear Quinn, who had just won with ‘The Voice’, was gracious and composed. She bowed and thanked everyone she met. But it wasn’t the sort of celebration you expect from a Eurovision winner. No dancing on tables like Carola did in Rome in 1991. Just polite, respectful gratitude.
In hindsight, that moment felt like a turning point. The contest needed change or risked losing relevance. Even with all the new energy from Eastern Europe coming in, the voting system was still stuck in the past. Ireland’s victories showed it couldn’t capture the full spectrum of what Europe was becoming.
In 1996, Germany didn’t even make the final. Gina G didn’t come close, despite being a global chart success. Morten Harket launched his solo career on the Eurovision stage. Green screen effects debuted for the first time. The show was moving forward, but the outdated voting apparatus still created a traditional and often predictable top three. Jurors rewarded Irish instruments, Celtic mysticism, and soft vocals. It was beautiful, yes, but Eurovision needed more than beauty.
It needed change.
Gary Speirs
Attending all four Irish shows of the 90s
I travelled to Eurovision in 1988, 1993, 1994, 1995, and again in 1997. And while Ireland’s repeated victories were impressive, many of us at the time felt things were getting a little… stuck. There was this lingering question among fans and press: would we ever see something new again?
It reminded me of the kind of dominance we talk about today with Sweden. Sure, as a Brit, Dublin was a more affordable destination than, say, Malmö or Lausanne, but while each contest had different presenters and stage styles (I love the 1988 and 1997 sets), the overall feeling was one of repetition.
By the time we were back at The Point for the third time, it felt predictable. You knew what to expect, and it just lacked the added excitement of some place new. That’s why Millstreet in 1993 stands out so clearly, the first time I drove to Eurovision.
The 2000s made it more interesting, especially with a wave of Eastern European countries winning in their early years.
But despite that samey feeling, I still look back fondly on the access we had, the welcome of the Irish and the introduction at that time of so many new countries.
Dean Asker
Was It Getting Boring?
My first experience of seeing Eurovision live was in 1995. Although it was the third contest Ireland was hosting on the trot, the fact that it was in Dublin was actually great for me, as it meant it was an easy hop over the Irish Sea.
I wasn’t really aware of any annoyance that Ireland were dominating the contest at this point. And I had an amazing time seeing the show live, topped off by my favourite song, ‘Nocturne‘, winning.
However when I went to Oslo in 1996 there were definitely more conversations about the possibility of Ireland winning again. Some fans I knew were bored of slower, more ethereal songs winning, and hopes were high that an entry like the UK’s ‘Ooh Aah Just A Little Bit‘ might take the contest in a new, poppy direction. I also have a vivid memory of a friend showing me a video clip which featured someone from one of the delegations saying with some exasperation that they hoped Ireland wouldn’t win. Not because they disliked the song or Ireland, but they were just bored of the contest continually being in Ireland and wanted to experience the contest in a different country! Of course Ireland did win again!
But that led to an amazing night in 1997 when I was in the Point Theatre to see Katrina and the Waves triumph. Being at a contest that your country wins is a wonderful experience. And I have to say that I think the contests Ireland hosted in the 1990s were very well produced. I’d love them to have the chance again and show what they could do now in the 21st century.
Annika Jansson
A View From Sweden
For me the Irish entry back in 1994 was my favourite (and still is one of my all-time favs, so I wasn’t surprised that it won). I wasn’t tired of them winning that year as I guess I think most people were in 1996, and I think that people around me wanted either Sweden or UK (or even Norway to win… but then again they had won the year before). Trying to think back at what the media thought of the Irish songs back then and which songs were the favourites, I think that Swedish press had the Irish entries ranked top 5 the years that they won. However I guess everyone around me wanted the UK to win in 1997 – mostly because it was the big favourite and because that it wasn’t Ireland (but I must say that Ireland was regardless still in my top 2 that year).
Neither 1993 or 1996 were in my top 5 those years. 1993 wasn’t because of that they had won the year before but more because there were so many more songs that were better. Maybe I was a bit tired in 1996 and, after loving Riverdance and Lumen (interval acts in 1994 och 1995), I thought that ‘The Voice‘ didn’t reach that standard for me. The Irish entries of 1992 and 1994 are still in my playlists of top Eurovision songs. ‘Why Me‘ was something that stood out when I saw the dress rehearsal in Malmö that Saturday. And 1994 stood out with its minimalistic arrangement.
I can see why some people think about Swedish entries nowadays in the same way that people thought about the Irish entries in the 90s, with almost the same dominance in the results. However we need to remember that back then it was only jury votes and that Sweden probably would have been in the bottom half of the results if we didn’t have the televotes as well, like Benjamin Ingrosso in Lisbon 2018.