Junior
Join Date: Dec 2003
Location: Cocotown
Posts: 72
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pentru cine se face film?
read betwen the lines he's got a point..
Children of the Revolution
A white stretch limo pulls up in front of the massed cameramen and reporters. The door swings open to shutter clicks, and out steps one of the most bed-wettingly amusing sights in music. ‘Fizz' is clearly oblivious to just how daft he looks. The two girls who step out with him are wearing black underwear under their full-length furs, and Fizz grins inanely like a child waiting to be told off. Imagine a premier league footballer who'd got dressed in the dark, and you'd be somewhere close. There was a time when Eastern Europe was considered to be the land of Paul and Pauline Calf, the backcombed and mulleted comedy offspring of Steve Coogan. Today, the adoptive dress-code of the Romanian nouveau riche looks no less ridiculous.
A silver convertible BMW arrives, ejecting a Romanian fashion designer in pink pointy shoes. Desperately trying to keep cool, his name isn't down, and it looks like he might not be coming in. Though some of the ‘VIPs' making their way towards the red carpet might have gotten it badly wrong this evening, the fans that have gathered outside are doing a considerably better job. Hip-hop kids in oversize jeans and basketball vests are brushing shoulders with teens in high heels and pretty-boys in tight tees. It even looks as though they've got the ‘tweeny' market covered, as two small girls with co-ordinated handbags tiptoe through the crowd with their mother. What's on display is Romania 's first real pop generation, and from the screams that accompany the stars into Sala Palatului , they don't need any encouragement to play along.
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When it was completed in 1960, the arching form of Sala Palatului was a triumph of communist modernism. Every one of its 3,000 seats had a speaker concealed in the back, new technology to aid the spread of the ruling ideology. From where I'm stood, missing chunks of masonry are still just about visible on some of the nearby buildings, the pock-mark reminders of 1989's ‘so-called-revolution'. It's widely accepted that what took place was a coup d'état by the Party elite, who'd found themselves with plenty of money and nowhere to spend it. They've been so successful that it's Ceausescu's former colleagues that are still safely entrenched in power fifteen years later.
Two old men are sat on a bench nearby, surveying the crowds gathered to watch the outdoor pre-show that's just ending. If theirs is a generation of nostalgics , still clinging to its medals bearing the old Socialist Republic insignia, then it's not hard to understand why. Their reward for a lifetime of state-employment is pension that averages 63 Euros a month. If you want to witness a real generation gap, rather than a clever fiction dreamed up by admen, come to Bucharest . Many of the kids assembled here for Romania 's third MTV music awards weren't even born to witness the old regime's downfall. The world that their parents inhabited is, for them, ancient history. The Romania they recognise isn't of Chinese chocolate, black-market Pepsi and red Pioneer uniforms. Theirs is a generation which has never questioned the perversities of Romanian's own ruthless brand of capitalism. It's one which has grown up in the shadow of poverty alongside an imagery clearly belonging to western consumerism – from Mercedes cars on the streets of Bucharest to McDonalds; from shopping malls to teen magazines. And if one thing above all else sums up the world that Romanian youth inhabits today, it's MTV.
Those who've been able to afford the stupidly expensive tickets are queuing to get into the concert hall, and it's quickly becoming clear that Party events during the time of Ceausescu's dictatorship were considerably better organised. He certainly knew more about media relations – back in the press-room the evening's turning into a disaster. Though passes for journalists have been ridiculously difficult to get hold of, those fortunate enough to get in aren't being allowed into the concert hall. Instead they'll watch the proceedings on a video screen in the cramped, windowless room. In true Romanian fashion, it's all a question of contacts. The manager of Romania 's most popular Hip-Hop group saunters over, picking his way amongst the grumbling cameramen. “You've no pass?” He pulls out a handful of access-all area laminates - and with that I'm out, away from the media circus and into the labyrinthine corridors backstage.
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It's a little like being trapped in a ‘Stars in Their Eyes' special. Tonight's presenter ‘The Romanian Madonna' squeezes past, as ‘The Romanian Elvis' appears from out of make-up. ‘The Romanian Linkin Park ' next door are looking a bit miffed, having enjoyed their quota of limelight during the free performance outside. However, further down the corridor are real stars of the ceremony. ‘Zdob si Zdub' are one of the few groups here tonight who aren't set on reproducing a sound that was first imported from the west. Fusing traditional melodies with a Britpop sense of humour, they're a group that knowingly draws on, rather than denies, its national heritage. Using traditional instruments alongside a typical Indie line-up, they've recently recruited a new member - an elderly peasant gentleman who's stealing the show as the group's DJ.
From round the corner drifts the sound of clarinets and trumpets. A full band from the gypsy settlement of Clejani, just outside Bucharest , is warming up for their performance alongside DJ Raoul. He's remixed their music in the only style currently acceptable on Romanian club-floors – Progressive House. However, this is the evening's only concession to the music of the Roma. ‘Manele', traditional gypsy melodies rendered in an offensive electronic style, is conspicuous by its absence, despite its immense popularity. Undoubtedly the real stars of Romanian pop, the Manele performers are seen as something of an embarrassment by the media-types assembled tonight.
While Manele is the sound of provincial Romania , of the vast swathes of communist tower-blocks that surround the centre of Bucharest , Progressive House is the music of choice for those belonging to Romania 's newly affluent. The hallmarks of the scene – high door prices; vodka-and-red bull; ecstasy – put it well beyond the reach of most ordinary Romanians. Inequality in the country has a huge impact upon music and youth culture. The musical preferences of the young often say more about their class status than anything else. If you want to see what's happened to children of the Securitate , the feared Romanian secret police, look no further than the party-goers who can afford to watch the western DJs perform at all-night extravaganzas around the country. Unverifiable accusations such as this are inevitably common in Romania , given that the Securitate archives have never been properly released. Youth culture is still being haunted by a pre-revolutionary suspicion that never quite went away.
Indeed, even an MTV award ceremony isn't safe from the spectre of organised crime. Some of the most impressive reactions from the audience came when politics gatecrashed the pop party. On two separate occasions, artists connected to the same well-known Romanian businessman were severely heckled as they collected their awards, supposedly voted for by the public. One singer who made the mistake of thanking the said figure in person met with a spectacular barrage of booing and obscenities. In a worryingly Orwellian move, both incidents were carefully edited out of the versions broadcast during the following weeks. As far as the people at home were concerned, it never happened.
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“Alright everybody! Tie you shoes!” German dance act Scooter have made a career out of their incomprehensible lyrics, and tonight's bill-topping performance is no exception. A gang of adolescent Scooterians appears from nowhere and charges to the front of the stage, shouting in German. I'm hoping that they've come from the Saxon villages in Transylvania . Travelling from Germany to see Scooter sing along to two backing tracks doesn't bear thinking about. Pyrotechnics and equally odd catchphrases fire out over the audience as the sound-system delivers a wall of four-four noise, and the whole venue gets to its feet. They're clearly the single act that most people have come to see tonight. From the front of the house to the balcony, Sala Palatului becomes a sea of pogo-ing Romanians.
The sight is a graphic indication of one of the largest problems facing culture in the country. Veneration of the glossy western media has cultivated an all-pervasive spirit of national inferiority. Kids in the thrall of imported youth culture would rather see a fourth-rate parody dance act from abroad than support their sizable body of talent at home.
Back at the after-party held at the club of another prominent Romanian businessman, the night's special performers from the UK , Kosheen, can't believe their luck. The drinks are free and the club is full of flashing-eyed Romanian girls. Like most people who visit from the west, they're struck by just how great the gap between Romania 's international reputation and the reality of life in the country really is. A land of alpine mountains and medieval traditions, of deserted beaches and unending hospitality, no other European nation is so desperately in need of a PR-transfusion. The west still views the country through a frozen mythology that failed even to capture the county's situation ten years ago.
The club is packed with famous faces, a close copy of the fantasy-world that MTV projects across the globe. Like the movie industry of the 1930s, Music Television is the ‘dream factory' of the 21 st Century. Pop music no longer sells records, but impossible lifestyle ideals. It presents a complex montage of values, tightly compressed into three and a half minute chunks. The purpose that the Sala has fulfilled this evening is hardly different from that of forty years ago. It's teaching the public what it means to live well .
One of the differences in Romania is that the kids are currently light-years ahead of the people who're trying to market this stuff to them. They're simply too media-savvy to uncritically accept what's on offer. “It was rubbish,” laughs Alexa, who watched the awards on TV. Claiming to be sixteen (at least three years older than she clearly is) and with a silver mobile slung around her neck, she's exactly the person that this music hopes to target. “50 Cent, Eminem, Sean Paul… I don't like Romanian music to be honest,” she says, screwing her face up.
Just as the west has loomed large in determining how Romanians have viewed their domestic youth culture, it's also been the medium through which they've interpreted the problems in their own country. It's internalised and propagated a particularly western stereotype concerning its own people. The work-shy Romanian, unable to break out from the old communist mentality, is one of the most widely held self-perceptions. Nothing could be further from the truth. It is, however, a reassuringly simple answer. It avoids the complex issues of national corruption and global economics which explain why ordinary Romanians work so hard for such small returns. The real danger faced by the next generation is in fact the opposite of the accepted myth. It's that today's youth have taken to heart the values implicit in the cut-throat version of capitalism that's developed here.
The idea of celebrity is one which drives consumer societies. It provides motivation; it justifies inequality; it produces product. It's an ideal that Romanian youth have fallen head-over-heals in lust with. For the first time in the nation's history, Romanians today are growing up with the celebrity culture that acts as a motor for achievement in modern society. One risk is that a generation of Romanians, enthralled by the glitz of MTV materialism, will quickly find their dreams frustrated and turn instead to illegal avenues. Impoverished wiz-kids in bedrooms and dorms across the country have already made it the world's third largest perpetrator of online fraud.
Another equally likely outcome is considerably less gloomy. Romania is looking set to start beating the west at its own game. The ambitions of this generation won't be contained within the confines of the country. It's only a matter of time before Romanian's reputation for kidnapping our celebrities is replaced by a new generation of Romanian stars.
Tom Wilson
Ultimul pasaj cam.. :lol: dar in rest daca treci in text peste complexul de superioritate calasic expatilor vede bine
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cocos
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