Dancing in the streets against hate
By Catrien Spijkerman and Yoran Garib
Antonio Greppi, mayor of Milan, realises that just reconstructing the buildings in his city is not enough. He combats hate and desperation with music, theatre and celebration.
The concert hall of Milanese theatre La Scala is packed to the rafters. The boxes have been reupholstered in red velvet and the gold of the ornaments shines again in the light of the large chandelier. The smell of paint still lingers, but it is now blending with cigar smoke and perfume.
Even those who didn’t manage to get a ticket, are present. They are part of the crowd outside on the street, sitting under the loudspeakers on the folding chairs they brought along, or simply on the pavement. Mayor Antonio Greppi believes that La Scala should be like a home to all Milanese. And that is why, on 11 May 1946, all of Milan listens breathlessly to Rossini, Verdi and Puccini. Music is back and tears stream down the cheeks of the audience.
It is the reopening of La Scala, which had been heavily damaged during an Allied air raid three years earlier. After the war, Mayor Greppi insists that the building be reconstructed as quickly as possible. For the opening concert, he invites Arturo Toscanini, the famous Italian conductor. Toscanini had lived in exile in the US since 1931 after an assault by the fascists for refusing to conduct the regime’s national anthem.
‘Let’s get to work, boys!’
It is not obvious that Greppi chooses a theatre as one of his first reconstruction projects. In his book he describes his observations of the city when he becomes mayor on 27 April 1945. It is an endless list: ‘1400 residential buildings destroyed; 250,000 rooms to be rebuilt; two secondary schools, six primary schools and five kindergartens destroyed; thirteen hospitals demolished; more than 1450 trams wrecked; one hundred thousand square meters of road surface severely damaged.’
Greppi realises he must give hope to the Milanese. Shortly after taking office, he gives a short speech: ‘We are going to do this together, with one will and one heart. Our task is not easy, but Milan will help us. And day after day, we will see her rise again from the rubble. Let’s get to work, boys!’
It is exactly what he does himself. Greppi throws himself into his new task ‘with all the enthusiasm and the strength he had in him,’ his granddaughter would tell later. ‘Sundays didn’t exist for him; there was always work to be done.’ He starts by temporarily seizing all vehicles to organise convoys with to the surrounding countryside to collect food for the hungry population. Once the worst of the hunger is sated, the housing crisis awaits. Greppi has additional floors built on all buildings that are still solid enough and he appeals to everyone with a roof over their heads to take in the homeless. He combats high food prices and the immense black market. He also sets up a ‘penicillin fund’ for the poor to purchase the medicine in case the ever-expanding tuberculosis epidemic reaches them.
Illegal pamphlets
Greppi feels an enormous responsibility. Now he must deliver on what he and others had worked towards during the war. During the war, Greppi is part of the committee of anti-fascist parties that secretly works on the liberation and what should come after. He is not an armed partisan, but an organizer who thinks along about how to run a future democratic Milan. Every meeting is dangerous and he is arrested several times by the fascist regime. Eventually, he flees to Switzerland.
Greppi knows all about sacrifices. His son Mariolino is killed during the war at the age of 24 for doing courier work for the partisans and distributing illegal pamphlets. After his arrest, Mariolino refuses to betray his comrades and tries to escape. During his attempted escape he is shot dead. Antonio Greppi, in exile in Switzerland at the time, only hears the news after his son has already been buried.
Boogie-woogie
Greppi doesn’t speak about it; his grief is too intense. He works instead, practically non-stop. Shortly after the liberation, there is a wave of revenge attacks in the city against former supporters of fascism. Considering what has been done to his son and himself, Greppi is all too familiar with feelings of anger and helplessness. Yet Greppi still firmly speaks out against this violence. He is determined to not only rebuild Milan physically, but morally as well.
Greppi, who is a bit of a playwright himself, fights the hatred and despair with music, theatre, and celebration. The reopening of La Scala is not the only way he breathes new life into Milan. Three months after the liberation, he organises a grand celebration throughout the city, with seven dance floors, nine orchestras, a hundred fireworks shows and countless boogie-woogie bands. The mayor hopes that dancing in the streets will somewhat lighten people’s hearts.
At the opening concert in La Scala, Mayor Greppi is planning to say a few words, but he is not allowed to do so. The great maestro Toscanini forbids him: ‘Music and politics do not go together’. Greppi decides not to go against the maestro.
