+8 Dancing around the Law
Dancing around the Law
Dancing around the Law
Dancing around the Law
URBINO, Italy – It is a Thursday night, nicknamed la notte dello studente – the night of the students – in this historic hilltop town and University of Urbino students are at the Bosom Pub unwinding – loudly – after a week of classes.
Charged by lively Italian dance music and a ready supply of alcohol their shouted banter rockets up to the aged wooden rafters. Beer bottles clink. Foosball tables crack with the sounds of battle. And the bellowed choruses of pop songs echo off stone walls.
Eventually the noise – and some of the students – spill out the doors onto surrounding cobblestone streets where neighbors hoping for sleep look from their windows with frowns of exasperation.
Behind the bar, owner Sandra Lannes, 46, pours metallic blue vodka into shot glasses, tossing a gummy shark – a chaser – into each. With a grin and a belly laugh, Lannes watches as a crowd of eager students gulp the glittery substance.
“It warms my heart to see students having fun,” says Lannes. “It is like the happiness I see in them is transferred to me.”
In recent months, though, her happiness, and even la notte dello studente has been put in jeopardy.
Last February, Urbino mayor Maurizio Gambini, bending to wishes of sleep-deprived residents, imposed a two-month curfew of 2 a.m. on all establishments within the city limits. The ordinance sparked protests by outraged students and business owners.
Because Gambini passed the ordinance without the approval of his cabinet, it had an expiration date of two months. However, the repercussions of the ordinance are still rippling through the city today.
Just as in many American college towns, this resident-student tension has existed in Urbino for generations. However, this conflict is more complex and perhaps heightened due to its unusual geography. The community of Urbino is divided into two distinct geographic and demographic parts.
One part is the historic Renaissance city, surrounded by 14th century stone walls.
The other is the modern ‘greater Urbino,’ which is a few kilometers outside the old town.
The historic center of Urbino is nicknamed “the cradle of the Renaissance,” boasting the birthplace of renowned artist Raphael, and the Palazzo Ducale – Duke Federico da Montefeltro’s turreted 600-year-old home.
The old city is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, which means that it has essentially been declared by the U.N. a living museum – with artistic and cultural treasures. But it is also home to the University of Urbino campus and the apartments of some its 15,000 students. This is where they study – and play.
Though it’s hard to draw an American parallel, this might be like attending university – and partying – on the National Mall in D.C. Students stroll through history-soaked streets on their way to class, and home from bars at night.
And while students far outnumber the 1,100 citizens within the city walls – they feel their voices are not being heard by the current administration. In Italy, you cannot vote in mayoral elections if you are not a full-time resident of the town, a requirement which excludes most students here who typically travel home for the weekends.
That commuting tradition gave birth to la notte della studente, which, as student Emanuel Leandri put it, created a lot of hype. Students like Leandri feel the ordinance took this celebratory night away from them. “I would always look forward to Thursdays, but it was different during the ordinance.”
Students said they didn’t see the crackdowns coming
“The ordinance sort of shocked everybody,” said Nicola Moretti. “Before, it was thenormal thing to stay out until 3 or 4 a.m., but after the ordinance the center emptied itself.”
Luca Gasperoni, a journalism major who has covered these issues for Il Ducato, the student newspaper, said students have nicknamed the mayor “the Sheriff,” because of his harsh stance on student nightlife in the city.
There have been other regulations over the years impacting student celebrations. One prohibits dancing in establishments which have not acquired a dance license, a requirement to prevent overcrowding. The other prohibits citizens from carrying alcohol bottles, closed or open, anywhere beyond the doorways of bars and cafes.
Students and business owners had adapted to these rules but were caught off-guard when the repressive curfew was accompanied by more stringent enforcement of the old regulations.
Lannes and the Bosom customers were shocked one la notte dello studente
when the Urbino police raided, threw out its occupants, sealed off the dancing room with police tape, and charged Lannes and her husband, Stefano Galli, for violating city laws.
That day, graduation celebrations were being hosted at the pub; cakes lined the tables, and the air was ringing with shouts of congratulations.
“They were celebrating a great accomplishment, so naturally there was some dancing happening,” Lannes recalled. “One young girl was forced to leave before she could even eat her graduation cake.”
Because Bosom doesn’t have a dancing license, Lannes and her husband are now awaiting trial in city court, facing up to six months in jail should they lose.
Lannes remains defiant – “If they want to arrest me, ok, but I know I’ve done nothing wrong” – but the emotion and uncertainty of the past few months have weighed on her.
Uses a napkin to dab at tears as she recounts the story, she says “It’s the passion that does this to me. There are 34 years of history in this pub, and the mayor has completely destroyed it.”
“I know people who’ve met because of the Bosom, gotten married, and now their kids come to my pub.”
In fact, the Bosom pub has been is an integral part of nightlife inside the old city for decades. Its walls declare the stories of generations of students, travelers, and young lovers.
“I know people who’ve met because of the Bosom, gotten married, and now their kids come to my pub,” she said.
In the weeks after the ordinance, students forced to leave the pubs at the new 2 a.m. closing time would gather in Piazza della Republica – a public square in the center of Urbino – to protest the ordinances until 4 or 5 in the morning. Moretti recalled students singing chants against the mayor in the piazza in the weeks after the ordinance was passed.
“They were angry, but they aren’t criminals,” Lannes said.
To American ears, a curfew of 2 a.m. may sound moderate, but in Italian culture, it is outlandish. Italians react with disbelief when told that most American establishments close far before sunrise. Things are different here.
In Italian culture, evening socializing begins around 4 or 5 p.m., with a period called aperitivo. People crowd outdoor sidewalk tables to enjoy a glass of wine or Italy’s signature drink, the refreshing Aperol a spritz – an orange liquor with a splash of bubbly Prosecco, garnished with an orange slice. While drinking, customers munch on a wide assortment of free appetizer, from the simple – peanuts, chips, and breadsticks – to the elaborate – sushi, freshly made bruschetta, pizza slices, and salumi.
Café De Sole, an airy, quirky sidewalk café with ceramic sun depictions covering its walls, can be found bustling during aperitivo. Romina Piccolo, 44, petite and kind-eyed, celebrated the 20th anniversary of the café this summer. Known for its live music, the café is a popular gathering place for students and residents alike.
Hearing that shops and bars in the city resulted in destruction was hugely disheartening. “I’ve always tried to bring something new to the city – arts, music – I strive to create beauty,” Piccolo said.
More than just a personal toll, the ordinance took an economic toll on Piccolo as well. She explained that closing even just one hour earlier would amount to 30 hours of lost business in a month, which is the equivalent of letting one employee go.
Additionally, because of the ordinance, owners of late-night businesses didn’t have anywhere to eat after closing up; there was not a pizzeria, gelateria, or kebab shop open past 2 a.m. “If I have a visiting artist to show around, and I want to take them somewhere to eat, it’s embarrassing to have to show them a dead city.”
Piccolo said she felt “free, free, free” after the ordinance was lifted.
For Samuel Sorrenti, owner of Enjoy Disco Club, a new dance club located just outside the old city’s walls, the end of the ordinance meant survival.
In Urbino there is a distinction made between clubs and bars. Clubs can acquire dancing licenses, and typically have later opening times. Like most discos, Enjoy doesn’t open until midnight, and typically closes after 5 a.m. So Sorrenti was appalled when the curfew was announced.
“A club is for night entertainment,” he said, “you can’t close at 2 a.m.!”
Sorrenti said preliminary meetings with the mayor before his opening in October had made him feel welcome. But when the ordinance was passed in February, just four months after he’d opened his doors, Sorrenti felt as though his “legs had been cut out from under him.”
When the mayor chose to end the ordinance two months ago, he felt like a weight was lifted.
Sorrenti, a friendly, determined businessman, sits in an office clad with brightly colored posters boasting months of themed Enjoy parties. Enjoy’s most recent party, the inauguration of an outdoor garden, was well attended – 1,500 students came out to revel under multicolored neon lights.
Now Sorrenti feels like the future for his disco is brighter, though no one can be sure whether the curfew will be reinstated.
Back at the Bosom Pub, Lannes weighs in about the importance of students in the city, claiming that “we need to protect them because many are here on their parents’ dime.” She argues that many parents have made huge sacrifices so their children can study here. Students are also an integral part of the life and economy of the town, and Lannes believes they must be respected as so.
Hand on her heart she said, “I feel as though you all – everyone who comes to Bosom – are my own children.”
Lannes’ heart for her student customers is worn on her sleeve. Despite the anxiety that accompanies her impending trial, she remains hopeful for the future of Urbino. “There are meanspirited things that have happened here,” she said, “but it is a beautiful place.
Not only for studying, but for living.”
Video by Madison Schultz & Caitlin Piemme
