Ultimo e that age-old aversion on the part of the left towards self-made people

“Today I’ve made peace with everyone, today I’ve made peace with everything. Thank you, my Rome, we’re making history.” Only in Italy could it happen that the singer who has sold the most tickets in history – 250,000 paying attendees at a single event, second in the world – is attacked by the press. And whilst he was making peace with everyone, they carried on attacking him. And the reason is that he isn’t ‘underground’ enough, that he isn’t poor enough, that he isn’t ‘suburban’ enough. That he’s become rich whilst still refusing to wear a Rolex. That as a child he went to the Conservatoire instead of stealing bicycles off the street. That he isn’t openly left-wing, essentially. That is why the press dislikes him: because he does not bow to their will, does not seek their favour, and does not hold press conferences or give interviews. At a time when even a rapper like Kid Yugi is celebrated on the front pages of La Repubblica, the most popular singer in Italian history is openly opposed. And this attitude cannot even be explained by the facile comparison between Ultimo and Giorgia Meloni, with their shared ‘underdog’ narrative. Because when Niccolò began writing the story of Ultimo, at the age of fourteen, and chose his stage name ‘to make it immediately clear who I’m writing for’, he didn’t even know who Giorgia Meloni was. And when, in 2019, he stormed the Sanremo press room, only to fill the Stadio Olimpico for the first time two months later, Fratelli d’Italia was still polling at 5 per cent. And Giorgia Meloni’s words today – in which she tweeted her congratulations to “one of the most talented Italian singer-songwriters who has made history in music and live entertainment” – will not be enough to make him seem like one of her own. Because if anyone deserves credit in this story (even though Meloni thanked everyone except him), it is Alessandro Onorato, Rome City Council’s councillor for major events, who has been working for months to accommodate 250,000 people. And it hasn’t been easy, nor has it been perfect. He is one of the few city councillors known throughout Italy. The entire concert-going public follows him. Not just because of Ultimo. Because Onorato has understood – and reinterpreted, thanks to his media savvy – that live music is not only the new frontier in music, culture and society, but also, and above all, in the economy: “The city has only stood to gain: over 650,000 euros for public services provided, paid for by the organisers; over 2 million euros in tourist tax generated by more than 156,000 people arriving from outside Rome; and a total economic impact exceeding 90 million”. Yet perhaps even this is not considered sufficiently left-wing. The left often turns its nose up at (other people’s) money. However, Goffredo Bettini, one of the most attuned to cultural phenomena, had said that the left was wrong to look down on it. It is easy to sit on a Roman terrace and claim that a young man born and brought up in San Basilio, with separated parents who are ordinary workers, is rich. To feel marginalised, to feel like you’re at the bottom of the pile, you don’t need to look at your bank balance. You can be, or feel like you’re, on the outskirts, even if your bills are paid on time.