FEDERICA ZAMBELETTI / KOOZBeatrice, it’s a pleasure to catch up with you on your research into northern Italian territories — on how these are being extracted and privatised for the upcoming Winter Olympics in 2026. Maybe we could start by contextualising that, in terms of scale and sustainability?

BEATRICE CITTERIO Thank you! It’s a pleasure to share what I can about the transformations brought by an event like the Winter Olympics. First and foremost, I’d like to clarify that the name Milano-Cortina is misleading: the 2026 Olympics will also take place in Bormio, Livigno, Predazzo, Tesero, Anterselva and Verona. This “geographical spread” is being promoted by the Olympic Committee and the Italian delegation as a strength in terms of sustainability and territorial development, as it allows the use of existing sports infrastructure and encourages more widespread tourism development. Spoiler alert: new infrastructures are being built almost everywhere.

To dive deeper into what hosting the Winter Olympics entails: mega-events like the Olympic Games, the Milan Expo, or even the 2024-25 Jubilee of Rome have the legal power — and the temporal urgency — that permits them to accelerate, compress, and simplify decision-making processes in funding, planning and economic and environmental evaluations. In short, when something needs to happen quickly, specific steps that are critical for ensuring economic, social, and ecological sustainability are weakened or skipped altogether, despite the usual legal requirements that would typically demand much more time. This leads to one of the most significant issues seen with the Olympics in recent decades: the abandonment, dysfunctionality or under-utilisation of expensive facilities after the games.

If we apply this process across a territory spanning Lombardy, Veneto, Trentino and South Tyrol — counting more than one hundred official projects, ranging from road infrastructure to sports facilities, logistics, and tourism — we enter a precarious pattern. On top of that, many smaller, indirect projects are driven by the Winter Olympic event but not listed in the official bid dossier. These projects impact diverse landscapes, from urban areas to Alpine ecosystems. For all these interventions, the costs — which have now sky-rocketed — are pushing €6 billion, most of which will come from public funds; more than half is allocated for new fossil-fuel based transportation infrastructures that will only be ready years after the event.

Regarding the 2026 Olympic projects, the only environmental reviews officially published on the Simico Olympic Infrastructure portal (operational only from the end of 2024, following citizen requests) pertain to the practical logistics of how the event will be conducted. However, specific environmental assessments — both for individual projects and on a national scale (addressing all projects as a system) — remain incomplete or unavailable. Local civic movements and associations, whether protesting both the development model or specific new infrastructures, also highlight this lack of transparency. On the one hand, they face projects and interventions in their territories that they neither requested nor believe will improve their quality of life. On the other hand, beginning from the complete lack of public consultation before Italy’s bid for the Games, they are confronted with an institutional attitude that ignores both public opinion and residents’ concerns, offering no space for democratic dialogue. It’s well known that without information, there can be no effective opposition; once a project is underway, opportunities for intervention are minimal.

Still focusing on sustainability — which we should view as a framework that integrates and intersects social, economic, and environmental aspects — the 2026 Winter Olympic model reveals a major ideological flaw. The planning, communication, and implementation models of the Games adhere to and reinforce a mode of tourism development that is widely recognised as unsustainable in the face of future climatic realities. While on the one hand, the MiCo26 Winter Olympics legitimises and welcome investments in the snowsports industry, on the other — contrary to claims of sustainability and territorial development highlighted in the bid — they continue to ignore critical issues affecting the Alpine valleys, even beyond environmental concerns: the economic and social sustainability of a tourism industry that will inevitably face decline, and the current huge social and logistic problems faced by over-tourism before that point.

KOOZ From an environmental perspective, one thing which I find most concerning is how mega events such as these are being used to expedite decision making processes. How is this possible in light of existing environmental frameworks? What are the implications?

BC Mega-events — as mentioned, we see this happening with the Jubilee 2024-2025 as well — are characterised by exceptional urgency: these are events that require projects to be completed in just a few years. Considering that in Italy, planning and public tenders are frequently delayed even in ordinary circumstances, the time for actual execution becomes even more compressed. As a result, certain planning or evaluation processes must bypass existing laws to speed up the activation of projects and deliver results before the event — which often doesn’t even happen. In fact, it’s already known that many of the projects planned for the 2026 Olympics will not be completed until well after the event. This was communicated through official channels or revealed by independent investigations recently.

This urgency and tight timeline, coupled with the much-touted “economic and developmental opportunity” of the event itself, causes regions to revive and impose projects that may have previously been halted due to environmental, economic, social, or design concerns. This happens for two reasons: on one hand, legal exemptions make it easier to bypass obstacles that would typically stall such projects. On the other hand, the bypassing of these exemptions unlocks an extraordinary flow of public and private funds — always with the promise of substantial returns and profits from the event’s positive impacts on the local economy.

When the unlocking of funds becomes so easy, and accurate planning often occurs after the fact, it’s clear that environmental evaluations are either requested or carried out post-facto — inevitably, such evaluations aim to justify the investment at any cost. While I’m not necessarily suggesting that political and administrative decisions in Italy are driven by convenience, it is common for environmental certification to be obtained one way or another, whether through a particular interpretation or a specific workaround. This happens even when infrastructure projects — and I’m speaking generally here — are located in environmentally protected areas, national parks, or UNESCO heritage sites. It’s no coincidence that Italy’s Alpine regions are teeming with proposals for new ski resorts and high-altitude accommodations despite negative environmental assessments, a topic I explored in greater depth in my previous project, Liminal Spaces.

Finally, I’d like to point out that when an ordinary citizen has to dig through archives for months to find partial information about a project already underway or in the process of starting, and opportunities for dialogue are either avoided or outright denied, the administration has issues with transparency and communication — and frequently, also with legality.

KOOZ Indulging in the social dimension, the Olympics are proving to be a golden opportunity for widespread private investment, from mountain villages such as Cortina to cities like Milan. How are such investments having an impact on the social fabric of these urban settlements, from rural areas to the metropolis?

BC Events like Milano-Cortina 2026, Expo Milano 2015, and other mega-events don’t so much create new problems — because there’s really nothing new about them — but instead accelerate ongoing processes of gentrification, displacement, and social exclusion, compressing disastrous outcomes into just a few years. In this sense, it’s important to highlight that, despite the obvious differences between urban and mountain environments, between Milan and the Alps, the complications brought by tourism, gentrification, and the rising cost of living are strikingly similar across the board.

One of the most immediate impacts is Olympic investments' pervasive effect on the real estate market. Milan, Cortina, the Dolomite region, and Bormio and Livigno, have long suffered from the same housing issues — some more acutely than others. Living in Milan on an average salary has become nearly impossible, just as in Cortina, where many locals are forced to move down to the lower valleys in search of housing that isn’t earmarked for tourists or priced at astronomical levels. Renting a home in Bolzano or Trento is becoming increasingly unaffordable, not to mention in the more tourist-heavy Dolomite valleys, where workers can find jobs but not a place to live. This leads to a steady depopulation of workers and, in turn, the loss of basic services that make living in these areas viable. Services like post offices, schools, community sports facilities, social gathering spaces, and public transportation see investments diverted to more profitable ventures, leaving residents in increasingly precarious conditions.

Milan’s development trajectory, in particular, is moving at an abnormal pace but aligns perfectly with this administration’s goals: creating a competitive, international city without implementing small and medium scale social and economic policies that benefit neighborhoods. The result is social exclusion, rapid gentrification, and rising living costs. In line with this approach, situations of acute social distress, such as the lack of public housing, are either ignored or isolated. This has been a driving factor behind the occupation of the Scarioni pool in Milan — a public space left to rot for years that could otherwise provide some respite during Milan’s sweltering summers. This is happening right next to partially empty public housing buildings. Private investments and real estate speculation are also eroding the city’s grassroots sports infrastructure, a particularly relevant issue when discussing the Olympics. Sports centres and swimming pools abandoned for years are being reopened as high-end thermal baths, pools, and private event venues, with entry fees that — due to the municipality’s lack of intervention in the bidding process — are affordable only for the privileged few. Examples include Milan’s historic Lido, the Bagni Misteriosi (both already privatised), or the Scarioni pool, as we wait for the city to decide whether to hand it over to private operator Get Fit for a 40-year lease.

KOOZ If we look at Milan specifically, we see how the Olympics have had a huge impact on the real estate market: the independent research institute Scenari Immobiliari has estimated that between 2022 and 2036, two million square metres of residential real estate will be added to the city’s urban fabric, with 500 thousand square metres being the 'share' that has been accorded to the Olympics. The total value of this development is about 19 billion euros, which is 40% more than it would have been without the Winter Olympics. Could you maybe discuss the Porta Romana — how does this epitomise Milan’s approach to regeneration?

BC As you rightly referenced from Scenari Immobiliari — whose analysis I find accurate but deeply concerning — Milan’s current development model is rooted in pervasive real estate speculation. Before even reading thereport, a walk through the city — especially in neighbourhoods beyond the second ring road — would suffice to communicate Milan's scale of transformation.

To address your question, the "redevelopment" of the Porta Romana Rail Yard for the construction of the Olympic Village by COIMA — an industry leader in real estate investment, development, and asset management — has reportedly driven a 40% increase in property values in Porta Romana and nearby areas over the last five years. This has triggered a rapid process of gentrification: evictions, business closures, and rising living costs are displacing a historically working-class part of Milan to pave the way for private real estate investments. Meanwhile, COIMA’s construction site banners flaunt slogans like “A neighbourhood reimagining its future” and “A more livable, sustainable neighbourhood,” surrounded by renders that are wildly unrealistic, unattainable, and far beyond the current state of the area. If "regeneration" — as labeled by the Fund and by the administration — doesn’t improve life for the people already living there or strategically enhance the missing services but instead caters to and thrives on external investments, it isn’t redevelopment nor regeneration — it’s sheer speculation. In Milan, this has become the norm. Similarly, when a city administration pushes for Milan to become “competitive,” “international,” and to transform into “a replicable development model” (the so-called “Milan Model”), it’s easy to see how, without proper safeguards and with a deferential nod to private investors, this inherently leads to the exclusion of a significant portion of the population — and their neighbourhoods.

KOOZ It is evident how the infrastructure built for these Olympics is at odds with meaningful long term sustainability, both from an environmental and social perspective. Where do we go from here? What agency can we have as architects and or citizens?

BC I’ve attended many meetings with frustrated and angry citizens or locals fed up with unresponsive administrations that neither encourage nor allow democratic exchanges and discussions. A common criticism they raise against the authorities is that projects are imposed without considering alternatives, leaving minimal room for changes or even proper information. On the other hand, administrations often accuse the opposition (whether civil or political) of failing to propose alternatives during the contestation phase, but this is usually untrue. Milan's city is full of active citizens brimming with ideas and, more importantly, concrete solutions to accurate, current problems. But the issue isn’t a lack of ideas — I'm sure the administration is well aware of the solutions. It’s simply choosing to act differently, guided by other interests. The same thing happens in the mountains: in Bormio, in Cortina, and every other valley, residents — who undoubtedly have more experience and knowledge of their territory than administrators sitting in capital city offices — offer constructive ideas for both temporary and long-term solutions. Regarding the bobsled track, two alternatives were proposed (Innsbruck and St. Moritz), yet Salvini and Zaia, under some mysterious influence, pushed the project through anyway. For the numerous road bypasses in Cadore, Valtellina, or Val Pusteria, countless inquiries were made suggesting possible adjustments — but they were ignored. Filing appeals to the TAR (Regional Administrative Court) is an option, but it’s risky: does it make sense to challenge the region or the province when you live in a village of 4,000 people? The social repercussions are often more significant than the benefits, frequently non-existent. Another issue involves private investments: when a service is handed over to a private entity, whether for Olympic projects or other developments, the room for municipalities to manoeuvre post-event becomes extremely limited.

If we’re talking about the Olympics or other events of this magnitude, everything should start with a well informed and inclusive public campaign: How and when would the event take place? What would it entail? Who would contribute to the costs? Then, hold a democratic referendum: Who supports it? Who doesn’t? Why? From there, you can draw conclusions based on the results. That’s precisely what many countries, like Switzerland, have done — where the population has voted against hosting the Olympics more than once. I consider an event of this scale concentrated in one area — especially in the Alpine region — unsustainable from every perspective. But if we must proceed, we should seriously rethink how such an event is organised and find a more responsible approach. The word “sustainable” in this context becomes entirely inapplicable.

As designers, architects and citizens, we carry the responsibility to care for our territories. Designing with a genuine commitment to a place, a land and a community makes all the difference. When decision-making power is so distant from the community that it fails to even listen to its needs or is close enough but driven by the hunger for quick and profitable results, significant problems arise. Caring for territories and neighbourhoods also depends on the ability to inform, educate, debate and engage in dialogue. But this can’t always rely on spontaneous grassroots movements because they’re slow and exhausting. At present, although some highly virtuous and socially impactful initiatives are popping up or holding their ground here and there in Milan, it seems that the administration is pursuing different interests altogether.

KOOZ Lastly I must admit that I truly like the pun embedded in the title of your research on this subject… can you share a few details on that?

BC Giochi Preziosi is a historic and well-known children’s toy brand in Italy. That’s precisely why I knew many people would immediately recognise it. I wanted to tie the 2026 Winter Olympics to three main concepts: preziosità (preciousness) in the sense of exorbitant cost, preziosità as a luxury for the few — and the idea of play. A toy can be cherished and carefully preserved as it can be trampled on and discarded in a landfill after two days. The Olympic transformations in territories hosting the Games might, at first glance, look like a celebration of sports. But the Olympics are not a game. They last two or three weeks, while the transformations remain forever — too often, the accurate scale of the damage is neither told nor adequately assessed. Lastly, the word ‘game’ resonates with the political manoeuvring and behind-the-scenes deals driving Olympic decisions and investments.

Bios

Beatrice Citterio is a PhD candidate in Cultural and Landscape Heritage at the University of Bolzano. Her research focuses on the dynamics of human and more-than-human relationships, approached through a visual, critical lens. She holds a Master’s in Eco-Social Design from the Free University of Bolzano (Italy). She is currently investigating the socio-economic and environmental transformations driven by large-scale investments in both alpine and urban territories and the grassroots movements striving to reshape these processes.

Federica Zambeletti is the founder and managing director of KoozArch. She is an architect, researcher and digital curator whose interests lie at the intersection between art, architecture and regenerative practices. In 2015 Federica founded KoozArch with the ambition of creating a space where to research, explore and discuss architecture beyond the limits of its built form. Prior to dedicating her full attention to KoozArch, Federica collaborated with the architecture studio and non-profit agency for change UNA/UNLESS working on numerous cultural projects and the research of "Antarctic Resolution". Federica is an Architectural Association School of Architecture in London alumni.