Why We Need the Milan

The announced closure of Milano, sometime between October and November of this year, is another kick that Barcelona gives to its own soul. And this is one of those kicks that hurts singularly because, in exchange for a venue with fifteen years of vibrant tradition and undeniable cultural value for the city closing its doors, we are going to add nothing less than a new restaurant franchise. There you go.

One more, in the city that treasures blatant lacks of intelligence like swapping the Canuda bookstore for a Mango, or the Catalonia bookstore for a McDonald's. Which, I say, you have to be very, very slow-witted.

Who doesn't see the obvious loss that these exchanges entail for everyone? Okay, except for the owners of the spaces, who get rich. And, above all, what does the city gain with a new restaurant franchise? You don't need to have divine inspiration to infer that much less than what it loses with the closure of Milano.

The city treasures blatant lacks of intelligence like swapping the Canuda bookstore for a Mango. Who doesn't see the obvious loss that these exchanges entail for everyone?

The two rooms of Jamboree, with their attractive and eclectic international program, and other admirable quality and criterion strongholds, such as Jazzman or Robadors 23, will not be enough. Meanwhile, as I say, we lose a key place to discover and enjoy a significant piece of the autochthonous musical intelligence.

And precisely that is the main attraction of an establishment that, thanks to a very accurate program, allows locals and foreigners to discover (or rediscover) excellent musicians. Where, very rarely here, local public and tourists coexist ---never better said--- in harmony. Its closure leads us to the umpteenth loss of cultural attraction. Then, we continue complaining about the abysmal quality of the tourism that visits us.

The secret of Milano's success lies in the combination of its live performances and the magnetic, elegant, and untransferable character of the venue, part of which is due to a service that, contrary to what is so often seen and endured in these latitudes, works with commendable professionalism. And it is that Hugo, the director, is a beloved character by a large number of Barcelonians who blindly trust in his good work and that of his team. And I suspect the same happens with a few tourists delighted that, for a change, they are attended to as they should be.

It is a very Barcelona custom to long for the city of before ---often, uncritically--- and to abhor the changes that blur those corners with which we maintained emotional ties. Barcelona was a festa. This is no longer what it was. Before, this neighborhood was countryside. Etcetera. But this is not the case. This is not about showy nostalgias or how badly some take getting old and things changing.

What has been happening to Barcelona for some years now is a process of depersonalization at forced marches. If before some venues changed for others, exchanging personalities, ways of doing things, untransferable lexicons; what is happening now is the loss of what is one's own, the unique, for the repetitive and nauseating standard of the photocopied venue, devoid of local character, where affection and singularity are neither present nor expected. All this, on the other hand, would not be possible without the inaction of our municipal leaders.

In short, there is an active campaign on Change.org to save the Milano, which I allow myself to suggest you join, if we don't want this city ---which every day that passes seems to be giving less for more--- to have another piece of its essence cut off. A place we really need to make this a little less of a theme park and a little more a place to live. Don't let them take away the Milano. And even less, to put in its place the umpteenth patch of culinary imposture.