How an Architect Gave La Scala a 21st-Century Update

Over the past two decades, La Scala, completed by the architect Giuseppe Piermarini in 1778, has experienced its most profound changes since after World War II, when it suffered severe damage from Allied bombing raids.

The recent updates to the opera house in Milan have been led by the Swiss architect Mario Botta, renowned for designing luminous, formidable spaces worldwide, including the Church of Santo Volto in Turin, Italy, and the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art.

Mr. Botta’s first phase of work at La Scala was carried out from 2002 to 2004, and the second, begun in 2019, has just wrapped up. He discussed his work in a video interview. The following conversation has been edited and condensed.

What is the scope of your work at La Scala? And what have your goals been?

The work has been about creating a dialogue between the 18th century and modernity. This theater was born as a space to create dreams, illusions, adventures. It’s still a place of collective imagination. But to effectively make it work today, it needed to be much more flexible and capable than what existed in the 1700s. It had run out of space to perform effectively. We’ve created a series of elements designed to make the theater function for the 2000s.

The work completed in 2004 included conserving the opera’s interiors [including restoring original elements that had been abandoned or hidden over the years], a much taller fly tower for stage sets and an elliptical building. For the most recent work, we’ve added a 17-story structure [six floors are underground] parallel to La Scala on the Via Verdi. At the base of this tower is an orchestra practice room, and on top is an airy dance studio. In between is needed functional space like offices, storage and rehearsal space.

The new forms you’ve created feel modern but also timeless. Your work seems especially inspired by the tension between history and modernity. How has that informed your design process here?

We’re working with the materials and techniques of today. But at the same time, this is a space that was created in a different lifetime. We want to merge the two. It’s an effort that goes on all the time in the city. The city is constantly transforming; it is a discussion between centuries. Piermarini had an image; now I need to listen to what the opera needs.

When I was younger, I looked for a language inspired by futurists like Antonio Sant’Elia. They wanted to create a completely futuristic city. Over the years, my design has evolved to be about the confrontation between times. A collage of different languages. It’s about the functions, needs and realities of today merging with the continuation of historical representation.

What does your creative process look like?

In my work, the pencil is the protagonist. I don’t work with computers. I work with models. With solid pieces, like an artisan. As all the issues come to the table, I find a synthesis. History is the mother; the pencil is the father. History stays history, but it provides endless inspiration. Without history, we don’t exist. I work in the realm of modernity, but within a culture that traces back to the total history of architecture. We have so many examples of images of the past. Without history, there is no inspiration.

For this project, you’ve created substantial new buildings clad in Botticino marble. This diverges from the work of many modern architects, who tend to highlight lighter materials like glass and steel.

Glass as a material is less inspiring, less honest. Stone is honest. With glass, you can see it’s transparent, but you can’t really understand what’s inside. I look for forms and materials that speak to the function of a building: a church, a library, a museum. Something with a familiar presence. A gravity. If a building has no gravity, it doesn’t exist. I look for the truth of a material, and of a building. Buildings today all look the same. You can’t read their function. This is the homogeneity that’s been created by globalization. It’s destroyed the symbolic power of buildings; the value of architecture. Now, a McDonald’s can resemble a theater. We’ve lost the capacity to express the true value of architecture.

You’ve got a long history with Milan — you studied there when you were young. How has it played a role in your design?

Milan has very specific characteristics. Its history is very much about strength and gravity, and there are so many buildings that express themselves through verticality and honesty.

This is because Milan is a city of work. More than other cities in Italy, it’s a city of industry, of promotion, of entrepreneurship. It needs buildings like that.

You’re well known for your weighty but uplifting sacred architecture. The work here seems to have a sacred component to it. Can you talk about that?

I find that architecture is always a sacred act, because it transforms nature and it represents our entire world. The architecture of sacred spaces is very close to the architecture of theaters or museums. You’re trying to create a type of value and strength. You’re attempting to embody a certain message. To try to understand our world. I only do work that I consider sacred. I’m trying to interpret and build a kind of spirit. I leave McDonald’s to America.