The Campione d’Italia casino once made millions. After a major bankruptcy, it is reopening its doors. Can this end well?
“Believe me,” says Carmine Garzia, “this building is completely insane.” A 13-story gambling den in a tiny village on Lake Lugano. A capricious monster that has brought the community immense wealth, but also great evil.
Garzia is part of the new management team that is supposed to get the casino and with it Campione d’Italia out of trouble. And he is right, there is something insane about the building by Swiss architect Mario Botta.
55,000 square meters, 28 elevators and 500 slot machines – in a community with 1,700 inhabitants. Compared to that, the entire village looks like a flea.
In 2018, the casino plunged the whole of Campione into misery. The casino was evacuated within 30 minutes with the police on hand; it must have been like scenes from a financial thriller. Debt, abuse of office, falsification of accounts. The mafia was also said to have been involved. After that, it looked like it was finally over. But in 2022, the casino surprisingly opened its doors.
Carmine Garzia is part of the new management team. He and his colleagues are tasked with saving the casino and thus Campione’s reputation.
Even architect Mario Botta is now plagued by doubts about his megalomaniac work.
A gold mine, but also a curse: the Campionesi can’t get away from their casino.
The little tyrant in Ticino
Campione is a complicated place. Long before the casino incident, Switzerland was eyeing the small village with skepticism. Campione is Italian, an exclave in the middle of Switzerland. People distrusted the “pleasure-seeking Catholics,” as a Protestant pastor from Zurich wrote at the end of the 18th century. As if they had suspected that the idyllic village would one day cause chaos. The little tyrant in Ticino.
In the 2000s, years of abundance began in Campione. The casino, which belongs to the municipality, flourished and raked in millions upon millions. The municipality became incredibly rich, with fat salaries. Over 400 employees worked in the casino, and it provided a living for the whole town. Then came the big bang.
The casino was closed overnight. Years of mismanagement, fraud and nepotism had led to the casino going bankrupt. Somehow everyone was involved: the municipality and the casino moved the money back and forth and everyone in Campione had worked either for the casino or for the municipality. Or for both.
Since then, Campione has had bad press. It is said that the Campionesi are greedy, insatiable and, in general, profiteers. When the laid-off employees held vigils in front of the casino after the closure, wearing stiletto heels and carrying Louis Vuitton bags, and demonstrated for its reopening, only contemptuous laughter was received from afar.
Now Carmine Garzia and his colleagues are supposed to save the casino and with it the reputation of Campione. Like all the members of the new management, Garzia is not from Campione. He is a professor of strategic management at the Scuola universitario professionale della Svizzera italiana (Supsi). It is unlikely that anyone from Campione will be allowed to touch the casino’s finances any time soon.
In 2018, the casino was evacuated within 30 minutes with police on hand. Since then, the hastily abandoned offices have remained untouched.
The great emptiness: Since the reopening, 10 floors have been unused.
Relics from the good years: The old slot machines stand around unused today.
A casino in stand-by mode
Garzia leads us through a disturbing series of gigantic rooms, most of which seem deserted. Dusty remnants of the glory days are everywhere. A battery of old slot machines is wrapped in black foil in a deserted gaming room. Next to it is a disused bar where the players once drank their Campari. Garzia’s steps echo, the rooms are so large. Since the reopening, the casino has been running in a slimmed-down version. Instead of 400, 140 employees were hired and only three floors were opened. A casino in standby mode.
At the entrance, players pass through a barrier using their fingerprints. Payment is made using the thumb, on which customers store their credit card details. Then they disappear into the large maw.
There is a lot going on in the evening, with a noticeable number of Asians sitting at the slot machines. A Chinese buffet has been set up in one corner of the restaurant especially for them. Good customers who are worth betting on. They make most of their money in the two large smoking rooms, says Garzia. Smoking, alcohol and money – the magic trio of gambling.
The casino has started up again. In 2023, sales amounted to 51 million euros, compared to 96 million at the time of bankruptcy. But when Garzia stands in the abandoned rooms, it becomes clear what a gigantic task he is facing. The casino is an expression of pure megalomania, a total overwhelm. When it opened in 2007, it was promptly named the “Ecomostro”, the environmental monster of the year. The building is gigantic, useless and does not fit into the landscape, the “Corriere della Sera” said.
The architect Botta, who now speaks of his work with some horror, once explained the size of his building as follows: Italian politicians had made exorbitant demands, and the square metres required had multiplied “like the stakes at the roulette table on a crazy night”.
A disused bar where the players once drank their Campari.
A casino in standby mode: Since the reopening, operations have been running in a slimmed-down version. Instead of 400, 140 employees were employed and only three floors were opened.
A Chinese buffet has been set up at the back left of the casino restaurant. Good customers to rely on.
Does Campione need a fresh start?
Why do they do this? Rescue a casino that is overflowing with criminal energy, in a remote village whose reputation has fallen dramatically in recent years? And in a megalomaniac building at that? Didn’t Campione need a fresh start, without a casino?
Garzia says that converting the building is extremely complicated. There were once plans for a luxury retirement home, but the building was too inflexible. He also sees the casino as a professional challenge. If you have managed a project like this, he says, then you have something to show for it. So he and his colleagues are wrestling with the casino, trying to rebuild it piece by piece, floor by floor. In the next few years they want to organize sports and cultural events on the empty floors. Also to give Campione a reputation beyond gambling.
Garzia and the casino don’t really fit together. Against this backdrop, one would have imagined a slightly shady businessman. But Garzia seems good-natured, peaceful. Someone who is patiently picking up the pieces after the great disaster.
Since the bankruptcy, Campione has had bad press. People say the Campionesi are greedy and insatiable.
Life in the village came to a sudden halt after the casino closed, says one resident. Many houses are still empty.
Campione d’Italia was once the richest enclave in all of Europe. Today the town is struggling with the aftermath of bankruptcy.
«The casino is my home»
The extent of the disaster is palpable in the part of the casino that the public cannot see. A security guard unlocks the empty offices. “Madonna,” he says as he gets out of the elevator. He holds his nose. A foul stench rises from the unused toilets. An omen? It is as if the casino has heartburn, as if it is still digesting the 2018 raid.
He leads through devastated offices that were hastily abandoned in 2018. At the time, the casino was in debt to the tune of 130 million euros, all employees were laid off overnight, and the municipality was placed under receivership. Campione lost many residents at the time.
Dusty file folders lie scattered on the tables, a few jackets still dangle in the cloakroom and next to the former accountant’s desk a calendar with yellowed male beauties is nailed to the wall.
The security guard says he looked after the casino for four years after the trial. This was his daily routine.
«There was no one here except you?»
«Not a soul»
«Wasn’t that incredibly lonely?»
«The casino is my home.»
As if surprised by his own emotionality, he adds: “This is a casino, not a church.”
Although everyone is laughing at Campione and his dealings with the casino, the Campionesi are holding on to their “factory” tenaciously. A close relationship that is difficult to understand binds them to Bottas’ concrete block. You can’t help but feel that they can’t live without their casino. Emotionally and economically – both seem to be closely intertwined in this place.
