La Goccia

What is La Goccia? It's a vast green area northwest of Milan, dotted with lime trees, poplars, black locust trees, paulownias, plane trees, hackberry trees, cherry trees, walnut trees, plum trees, and more. A deep silence reigns, occasionally interrupted by the sound of a Trenord train passing by on its way to Saronno, Erba, or Cadorna station. It's approximately 20 hectares of vegetation, quiet, and contemplation. The term "post-industrial forest" aptly describes La Goccia, although it can become one of those pompous labels useful for fueling harmful word of mouth.

La Goccia is almost as large as Parco Sempione and is about six and a half kilometers from Milan's Duomo. It is partly owned by the Municipality and partly by the Polytechnic University. Not many people have had the privilege of exploring it so far, either through a hole in a fence or on an informal visit. It borders the Bovisa, Quarto Oggiaro, and Villapizzone neighborhoods, as well as the Polytechnic University buildings, and is bordered by a ring of railway tracks. It's just a few minutes' walk from the train station and lies beyond a large, fragile, and rusty iron sculpture. It's the now inert structure of the old gasometer, which has occupied the Goccia space since the early 1900s. At the time of writing, the other old gasometer is absent, dismantled and awaiting reassembly, like a Meccano toy.

©Terrapreta

The area is called La Goccia (The Drop), because when seen from above, it resembles the shape of a drop. Inside, scattered ruins dotted with greenery and old buildings with broken windows are surrounded by partially overgrown railroad ties, curbs, and concrete tanks. Beneath vast ceilings ravaged by time, the remains of imposing machinery, tanks, and pipes survive. For nearly a century, the La Goccia area was an industrial site. It was first home to the Union de Gas and then to the Officine del Gas, the company that met the city's gas needs through the distillation of coal (first for street lighting, then for domestic and industrial use). After several changes of management, the last operations ceased in 1994. Since then, access to the site has been blocked by a surrounding wall topped with barbed wire. A new layer of earth has formed on the asphalt that covered much of the surface, grass has sprouted, and particularly stubborn plants, such as the hackberry (Celtis australis, also known as the "stonebreaker"), have taken root.

The presence in the soil of substances such as cyanide, arsenic, zinc, cadmium, lead, iron, manganese, nickel, as well as dust, hydrocarbons, heavy metals, and waste from coal processing, is a key element in the depiction of the Goccia forest. To what extent is the Goccia soil contaminated? Where? And at what depths? A political game has been played out around these questions, with a group of citizens on one side and the municipality on the other. Those who managed to infiltrate the area in one way or another describe having had a very singular experience. Livid mystery, abandonment, ruins, desolation, like certain scenes from the Chernobyl series. Peace, intimacy, immersion, invigorating and religious silence, as in certain landscapes filmed in the cinema of Andrei Tarkovsky.

©Terrapreta

The history of La Goccia dates back to the era when Bovisa was nicknamed "little Manchester" due to its high concentration of chemical companies and mechanical workshops. Tangible vestiges and testimonies remain from that period, as well as a scattering of intangible, spiritual elements—a veritable "aura of Bovisa," as the title of a valuable book by Giorgio Fiorese, a professor and scholar of architecture, puts it. In fact, for about 130 years, the La Goccia area has been essentially closed to the public and residents. What happens to the aura of a place under these unique circumstances? What forms, visible and invisible, does its genius take?

For thirty years, human presence has almost entirely disappeared, except for a couple of ravers and some Roma, who illegally settled within La Goccia. For some time, they lived in makeshift shelters or inside dilapidated industrial buildings. This is what Gianluca Rapaccini of Terrapreta, who coordinates the La Goccia Observatory, has to say. It's been a very slow, patient, gradual, and partial reopening. Gianluca has met many of the people who lived inside La Goccia, in a truly parallel world, not without its share of violence and oppression. He entered La Goccia for the first time in 2017. "We passed through a hole in the fence. A few steps were enough to leave the noise of the street behind and enter a different atmosphere. From that moment on, I began attending the meetings of the La Goccia committee and gradually became one of the leaders."

The committee

The La Goccia committee had been active for several years. Its story is told in a book, More Gray Than Green. Ten Years of Struggle for the La Goccia Forest in Bovisa, written by two activists, Francesca Grazzini and Luciana Bordin, with a preface by Lucia Tozzi. It was the summer of 2012. The City of Milan presented the Monti government with a project for the construction of a new neighborhood in the La Goccia area. The real estate company behind the project is Euromilano, and the master plan is being handled by Rem Koolhaas's architectural firm. The new neighborhood will span 730,000 square meters of gross floor area. In place of that vast urban void, once occupied by the Gas Works, hotels, residences, and offices will be built. The committee disagrees. It disputes the definition of an urban void. There is no urban void. On the contrary, there is a fullness, a forest, a rich arboreal womb that conceals in its shadow a heritage of industrial archaeology. Over the course of nearly a century, the Officine del Gas (which would later be absorbed by AEM, the Municipal Electricity Company) have planted hundreds of trees.

In the story, the committee members don't have real names. As in an epic cycle, they appear through epithets: the Professor, the Poet, the Gentleman, the Poetess, the Gardener, the Young Man, the Cyclist, the Passionate One, etc. They are well-prepared, well-educated, tough, and determined. They aren't volatile and careless city users, but organized and aware citizens. The Professor knows his stuff. He's a militant urban planner (Giuseppe Boatti, a well-known figure in the city), trained in the Communist Party, and always on the side of citizens and the common good, always ready and on the ball when it comes to taking part in a debate. He dreams of a Milanese Central Park, a public green corridor connecting the Scalo Farini area with the Goccia area. The soil at La Goccia, however, is contaminated, the Municipality claims, and must be plowed, excavated, and removed, along with all the greenery and trees that cover it. It's inevitable. They might as well start from scratch and build a new neighborhood on top of it. The committee opposes this, pinning green teardrop-shaped felt pins to their chests, challenging the literature on the presence of pollutants, and proposing an alternative remediation method: "phytoremediation." This involves the targeted planting of trees and plants, depending on the pollutant being addressed. It's a very slow remediation method. The battle with the Municipality continues with dossiers, appeals, and public debates. They are demanding that La Goccia be included in the PGT (Territorial Management Plan) as a protected green area.

©Terrapreta

Today and tomorrow

Since the committee's initial activities, many things have changed. In June 2021, the group that would found Terrapreta and bring together partners for a new organization, the La Goccia Observatory, decided to conduct a random tree mapping. Using software (called iTree-Eco), an analysis of the forest and its potential was performed. How much carbon can it store? How much water can it hold? How many trees are there? And what species do they belong to? Terrapreta presented the collected data to the Municipality and initiated discussions with the Departments of Greenery, Participation, and Urban Planning. The final outcome was the signing of a collaboration agreement. CNR Iret, Italia Nostra, Progetto Natura Onlus, and the Natural History Museum became partners of the Observatory. At this point, Terrapreta and the committee's paths diverged. What divided them was, above all, a difference in their approach to the Municipality.

The situation has therefore changed. The glass is either half full or half empty. Depending on the committee's perspectives and diverse perspectives, the overbuilding project proposed years ago by Euromilano, a veritable tabula rasa, was averted thanks to the struggles and tenacity of all the activists, while a new plan, that of the Polytechnic and the Municipality, took shape.

©C. Vincenzi

What is the current situation? Sixty-seven trees, including a century-old oak, were felled in 2023. A portion of the Goccia—about 10 hectares—belongs to the Polytechnic University and will be part of a university expansion project. Another portion belongs to the Municipality and will house the new civic schools. Another portion—18 hectares—will be a large green space and will not be developed. This last portion is the subject of a study and design project entrusted to MM Spa, which has been collaborating with the La Goccia Observatory since 2024, under the "Support for the PNRR Large Cities "Urban Forest" objectives (DL 50/2022)" funding for the overall design of the municipally owned spontaneous forest lots. This project is part of a Master Plan for the Bovisa-Goccia area, entrusted to Renzo Piano's studio and shared by the Municipality and the Polytechnic University.

Requests from citizens and subsequent initiatives by the Observatory have led to the implementation of an experimental process, with the aim of preserving the spontaneous nature of a portion of the Goccia.

"The first action involves the opening of a series of walking trails," explains Gianluca Rapaccini, "which will allow limited use, with access rules. The emphasis will be on observation rather than interaction. We will try to foster a different relationship with nature. It will not be a fully equipped park. Only 20% of the forest will be accessible, while the remainder will be protected by a system of signs and lightweight fencing, as well as by dense vegetation. The goal is to prevent access to the reclaimed areas. We want to focus on both the ecological value of the area and its industrial heritage, which also includes contaminants and their gradual disposal process.

There are two remediation methods: phytoremediation and bioremediation. Bioremediation is achieved through the action of fungi, microorganisms, and soil improvers on the soil—natural elements that improve and support soil fertility. Phytoremediation and bioremediation have very long timescales. This is an experimental remediation method proposed by the Observatory and welcomed by the Municipality, sharing the spirit of the initiative and understanding its novel approach and philosophy. "Regarding the buildings," adds Rapaccini, "one of the buildings will be completely restored and used for forestry and laboratory activities, while the others, for the time being, will simply be made safe."

Sculptures and orchids

Among the committee's first activists was artist and sculptor Edi Sanna. Since 2013, Edi has taken part in dozens of initiatives, in libraries, on the streets, or at local markets. Along with the other committee members, she has dedicated her efforts, imagination, and energy to supporting the cause. Puppet shows are also organized. But it's not enough. "For most people, the forest, being beyond a wall, remained a pure abstraction," she says. In 2019, together with Gianluca Rapaccini and the other men and women of the committee, Edi worked first on the creation of the trails and then, for two years, on the design of a unique museum, set among the trees and bushes of the Goccia. Edi contacted around thirty artists around the world. He wrote to them and offered to donate objects and sculptures that would be placed here and there along a path. The artists understood the spirit of the project and offered their services free of charge. It wasn't a given. The goal is to somehow humanize the forest, making it a more hospitable, less disturbing place, toning down its more threatening appearances. The sculptures intensify the philosophical experience of the forest, says Edi, and echo the invitation to reflection, introspection, or dialogue with others that walking among the trees naturally evokes. The museum-in-the-forest initiative is a resounding success. Hundreds enter the Drop for the first time. Even during the pandemic, the Drop becomes a relief valve and fills with people who find space to breathe and wander freely.

©Comitato La Goccia

"The City of Milan has demonstrated its provincialism. It hasn't understood it holds a jewel in its hands, especially now, with everything we know about global warming. The oxygen from the Goccia is a good thing and a vital resource, not for Bovisa but for all of Milan, a city with a serious air pollution problem, with a certified impact on the health of its citizens." Edi's assessment of the administration and the Polytechnic's expansion project is absolutely negative. It's certainly thanks to the committee's advocacy and studies that the City understood the value of at least this piece of land, sparing it from the bulldozers.

Edi appreciates the work of reclaiming and protecting part of the forest undertaken by Terrapreta and the Observatory, but remains highly skeptical about the area's future. What will happen once the remediation is complete? Who will take control of the forest? What will its fate be? These are all questions that the EUI (European Urban Initiative) call will have to answer, through a working group dedicated to the future governance of the forest.

Edi entered the forest for the first time with Gianluca. He retains indelible memories of those early explorations: “There were magical paths, lined with hawthorn. The mulberry trees, which were still the mulberry trees from the old silk cultivations. Once in the summer, at night, we went to see the fireflies. Thousands of fireflies. Pure energy. Another time we discovered a clearing with a walnut tree in the center. It seemed strange to us, but then, through study, we discovered that the walnut tree's roots release toxins that prevent other plants from growing. One day we returned with a botanist, Gabriele Galasso. Galasso pointed out to us the presence of some orchids—I would call them primitive, ancestral, belonging to an era before industrialization. At La Goccia, I discovered a silence similar to that of churches. I realized I was inside something alive, a great organism.”

The forest is a symbol

But why have so many people become so passionate about the story of this forest—or post-industrial forest, as it may be—and its survival? Why have they attributed so much importance to it, to the point of sacrificing part of their own existence? Certainly, civic conscience, environmental awareness, and individual biographies (Boatti's membership in the Italian Communist Party) played a role, but perhaps something else mattered, and that is the symbol, the archetype, the vibration that the word "forest" or "woods" evokes in a human being, the image of the forest, the one we carry within us, conveyed in stories, in fairy tales (or in cartoons, which in turn were inspired by some fairy tale). The forest of Little Red Riding Hood and Hansel and Gretel, Dante's forest, therefore the forest as mystery, as threshold, as risk. The place where the hero or heroine gets lost. Where a test or a transformation takes place. The presence of poisons in the soil, the infection, adds a magical ingredient, making the Drop a more complex and contemporary variant of the old fairytale forest. The forest, in a certain sense, is the antithesis, the counterpoint, the nemesis of a place like Milan, a practical, concrete, often cynical, swift, and unmysterious city. For many, entering the forest has meant rediscovering their lungs, their feet, suspending time and reconnecting for a few hours with a part of themselves.