Naples – Sasà Vanorio, manager of the Teatro Sannazaro with his wife, Lara Sansone, delivers a long and emotional post following the fire that devastated the historic venue on Via Chiaia. It's not just a summary of material damage. It's an act of transparency, but above all, a cry of pain for a place that, in the words of its protagonists, transcends the concept of private property to become the city's heritage.
«Regular licenses and certified facilities»
Responding to initial reports and concerns raised in the hours following the disaster, Vanorio immediately clarified the structure's technical position. "We are not the owners, but the managers. The fire insurance policy belongs to the property, but the theater has all the necessary permits and a fire prevention certificate," he explained.
The manager firmly denies rumors of alleged safety system malfunctions: "It's not true that the fire prevention system didn't work. The law requires sprinklers only for the stage area." Vanorio also clarifies the reason why the stalls appeared unusually bare: "Since our Café-Chantant was on stage, the seats were absent by artistic choice."
From the ashes of porn cinema to the "Bomboniera"
The history of the Sannazaro is one of family and urban resurgence. Vanorio recalls 1969, the year Luisa Conte and her husband Nino Veglia rented what had by then become a totally abandoned adult cinema. "The boxes were gone, the dome was in disrepair.
With immense sacrifices and a loan from the Bank of Naples, they returned the "jewel box of Chiaia" to the city. A bond that has lasted over half a century and defines the very identity of the managers, defined by Vanorio as not simple tenants, but "custodians of a property that belongs to everyone: the public, the artists, and the workers."
A legacy of memories gone up in smoke
The most horrific damage, however, cannot be quantified in economic terms. The fire devoured the theater's historical archive: grandmother Luisa Conte's costumes, her autographed scripts, stage photos portraying her alongside Eduardo De Filippo, and the precious original posters from the late 19th century.
"On Monday, our Café-Chantant went up in smoke: scenery, feathers, lights. Everything we had transformed into a landmark for visitors," the message continues. At the heart of the grief are also Lara Sansone's childhood memories and the upbringing of her son Christopher, who, behind the scenes, read Raffaele Viviani's texts to learn "real Neapolitan."
Waiting for the truth: "The curtain has fallen"
While we await technical reports to determine the cause of the fire and assess the extent of the damage to neighboring apartments, the psychological burden of a disaster that abruptly ended the artistic lives of dozens of professionals remains.
"I need to know if I failed as a guardian, if it was our fault," Vanorio concludes bitterly. "I need to make sense of this pain that grows every day. Meanwhile, the curtain has fallen." A curtain that all of Naples hopes to see rise again soon.
Source EDITORIAL TEAM
Comments (1)
The article describes a very sad and difficult situation for the theater's managers. I understand their grief at the loss of their cultural heritage, but I believe a clearer assessment of the security systems is needed.