The Milanese social center has been evicted; over the years, it had provided space for initiatives related to the world of natural wine. With the police operation, a chapter that combined barricades and tastings—between politics and carafes of “bulk red” in bottles—comes to a close. The eviction likely also ends the season of the “rebel glass” of the Folletto di Abbiategrasso.
EDITORIAL – This morning, the eviction of Leoncavallo restored order to via Watteau in Milan. A swift operation, without resistance or violence, ending over thirty years of occupation. Beyond the concerts, assemblies, and graffiti, wine also flowed within the walls of the social center. Not the wine of the big fairs, of Verona’s Vinitaly, or the “kermesses” moving from Piacenza to Bologna Fiere. But self-managed wine, served amidst debates and “zero-km” agricultural manifesto dishes—much cooler than certain Ficos, to return to the Bolognese refrain.
Over the years, Leoncavallo had carved out a space in the food and wine scene as well, hosting initiatives like La Terra Trema, a fair for independent artisanal producers and winemakers. Wine in via Watteau thus became a symbol of resistance in the city of fashion and trendy glasses. Almost more of a political manifesto than an agricultural product, in a high sense. Glasses raised not so much to celebrate harvests, but to challenge the system. Not without anachronistic flights of fancy, passed off as a faithful account of the Hic et nunc. Of the Here and Now that will lead us all to ruin, closely tied to the logic of industry multinationals.
THE BITTERSWEET CHALICE OF THE GOVERNMENT
One thing is certain. With today’s eviction, August 21, 2025, the Meloni Government has uncorked an affair that had lasted for decades. The Prime Minister spoke of the end of “free zones” and a return to legality. An institutional toast that leaves the memory of the glasses shared at Leoncavallo in limbo, but also marks the end of an anomaly that had long divided the city and its politics.
The wine served at the social center had the merit of originality, but not always of form. Self-managed tastings, collective carafes, and glasses that weren’t always technically “clean” told of an alternative way of approaching Bacchus’s nectar. A language far from that of guides and the most prestigious wineries. More slogan than terroir? More militancy than awareness of flaws? Today, the answer is even more secondary.
With the closure of Leoncavallo, Milan loses a place where wine and politics intertwined in a unique way. But at the same time, a season ends in which alcohol became a banner for battles that had little to do with vineyards and spontaneous fermentations. Well beyond the ethical and social commitment required of people, even before professionals with a modicum of dignity.
WHO IS BEHIND “LA TERRA TREMA” AT LEONCAVALLO
The fair was not born at Leoncavallo, but elsewhere. It was the Folletto 25603 collective from Abbiategrasso, a town on the outskirts of Milan, that created the event in the early 2000s. A self-managed showcase that, over time, found its most convenient—and expected—home in the Milanese social center. There, it transformed into a regular appointment for independent winemakers, farmers, and the curious looking for an alternative glass, far from the logic of the big official fairs.
The uniqueness of La Terra Trema was exactly this: no sponsors, no institutional contributions, only volunteering and militancy. To taste, membership in the collective was mandatory, even for the press. The result? A mix of tasting and political demonstration, where wine risked becoming—sometimes, not always—a pretext for other battles. With the eviction, the curtain falls on this ritual too, at least at Leoncavallo. And perhaps Milan can now finally have a serious discussion about wine, without having to go through a preconceived membership card.
Leoncavallo eviction: farewell to resistant wine and La Terra Trema? https://www.laterratrema.org/. https://www.leoncavallo.org/.
