What is born from a prohibition, if not a sense of necessity? And what emerges from restriction, if not a shared creative impulse—a collective push toward escape, toward reclaiming the freedom of self-definition?

‘No Ball Games,’ the participatory art multiverse conceived by Enrico Rassu, is more than a question—it’s a living answer. A real-world response to the forces that too often keep contemporary art locked behind institutional walls.

It all began with an image: a No Ball Games sign spotted on a turbulent London night—an emblem of authority, surrounded by the joyful rebellion of local kids playing in the street. Rassu observed, connected, and absorbed. From that moment came a publication. And from that came the realization: this scene carried a message strong enough to disrupt the toxic, outdated logic of the institutional art world.

Rassu’s message is simple yet urgent: freedom of expression is a vital public asset—one that must be protected in its purest form. Whether it’s a football match squeezed between the alleyways of North London or a large-scale community event in the heart of Milan, the essence stays the same. The ball on one side. Graffiti, visual art, and rhythmic soundscapes on the other. And in between: a powerful sense of participation and shared meaning. We dove deeper into this evolving project—which recently sparked a powerful collaboration with adidas Originals—through a conversation with Rassu himself.

‘No Ball Games’ clearly references sports culture. Can you tell us more about the philosophy behind the project and the playful mindset that shaped it?

“I think everything starts with play. Play is freedom—it’s expression. And when you’re really good at it, sometimes it becomes a job. That’s where everything shifts. When play becomes work, the energy around you changes. People start seeing you differently, interacting with what you do in a different way. The approach changes, and so does the meaning. I’ve been through it myself. I was just a kid with a dream, beginning to achieve important things—I was working with American artists, brands, rappers… but I could feel that the rope was tightening. I was constantly making compromises. When play enters the world of money, work, competition… that original, pure spirit starts to fade.

As I became more aware of that dynamic, I almost felt traumatized. In Sardinia, where I grew up, I used to work with friends. I was having fun. Then suddenly, I found myself in environments where I had to be careful about everything—who was around me, who I could trust, what people were saying about me. I kept asking myself what was happening… Not long before, I was filming videos in Sassari with my friends. Suddenly, I was in London surrounded by record executives and big-name brands… and people didn’t even seem happy. I tried to bring my original spirit into those spaces, but at some point, I couldn’t do it anymore. I realized I couldn’t waste my life conforming to systems I had no control over.

So, I created my own artistic and playful space—together with people who share the same values, like Greta Scarselli and Lvnar, who have been part of the project since the beginning and brought important energy to the creation of the happenings. We’ve also collaborated with a variety of creative collectives across different disciplines: from the graffiti writers of “Yes,” to all-female groups like “Walk the Talk,” and music/freestyle crews such as “Il Muretto” and “Il Cerchio”—a circle of high school students and young creatives passionate about art and music, just to name a few. No Ball Games a space where we could return to that original dimension. No tickets, no lists, no VIP names, no CVs or portfolios… no pretension. Just people, energy, and a will to create. That was the real challenge of a socially-driven project like ‘No Ball Games.’ I wanted to revive that kind of approach to art—and bring it back into the streets. Very quickly, ‘No Ball Games’ became my favorite sport. It’s an ongoing workout, especially on a relational level: you learn how to show up with people, to play every time with someone new. And honestly, sport is also about running around, organizing things, making sacrifices every day—and in most cases, doing it without earning a thing. Just for the love of it…”

What are the “rules” imposed by today’s art world—and how does No Ball Games choose to break them?

“Even though I work professionally in photography, creative direction, and adjacent visual disciplines, I felt the need to bring back the spirit I grew up with—one rooted in freedom and community—into settings that aren’t bound by the usual structures of the creative industry. I wanted to recreate a space driven by pure passion, completely free of toxic energy. That’s why I keep organizing ‘No Ball Games’: to bring hundreds of different people together in the same room, all free to express themselves. It’s like a social run—an experience that makes you feel good, that releases endorphins. The artists don’t gain money or status, but they gain human connection and personal well-being. Just like members of a running crew.

The problem today is the constant overload of images—of everyone else’s work, all the time. There’s barely any time or space left to be truly free. In the past, to see an artwork, you had to go to an exhibition or buy a book. Now, you see everything instantly—every day, every minute. That constant exposure creates anxiety and comparison. Every artist ends up asking themselves: ‘Am I good enough? Does this matter?’ And suddenly, you feel less free. Because sometimes, freedom also means not knowing what everyone else is doing. But today, everything is overexposed, everything is judged. ‘No Ball Games’ wants to flip that script. It’s a space where people can express themselves without fear or pressure. A personal, collective, and artistic response to a system that rarely leaves room for lightness, truth, or actual freedom.

And then there’s this divide in the art world: you’re either part of an academy—fully inside the institutional world—or you’re seen as a “wannabe,” just another dreamer. Galleries on one side, idealistic students and creatives on the other. What’s missing is a middle ground—a space where you can simply create, without needing to ‘belong.’ ‘No Ball Games’ lives in that space. It’s a constant work in progress, without a business plan.”

Recently, No Ball Games teamed up with a major brand like adidas for a special campaign that culminated in a packed event in Milan. How did you manage that collaboration while staying true to the soul of the project? And what did it feel like to get that kind of “validation”?

“From the very beginning, the goal was to preserve the essence of ‘No Ball Games.’ adidas didn’t come in trying to reshape the project—they respected its core values and chose to support and amplify what we were already doing. The philosophy behind the campaign was also perfectly aligned with the adidas Originals collection, which celebrates people who break the rules with their vision. For me, there’s a big difference between ‘support’ and ‘exploitation.’ And despite my initial caution, the collaboration came together very naturally. In the past, some partnerships started off well but ended up draining me—using my energy without recognizing my worth as a person. This time was different. My first condition was clear: if the Milan event becomes guest-list only, I’m out. It had to stay open—no lists, no names, no hierarchy. And that’s exactly what happened.

Eight hundred people showed up. It was a regular night in Milan—freestyle on the streets, graffiti, rap, paintings, and all kinds of art. It was powerful. It felt totally free. For me, it was a sign: if something starts from the ground up, it can go anywhere. For real. That’s what this event gave me. I realized ‘No Ball Games’ has deep, authentic roots—and it can grow without limits. What really matters to me is the human side of it all. There’s no room for competition, no space for profit or hidden agendas. No one signs contracts. No one is forced to sell their work. And that gives me peace. I made a conscious decision not to turn it into a business model. ‘No Ball Games’ needs to stay pure.”

What’s the current state of the ‘No Ball Games’ multiverse—and what new forms might it take in the future?

“Over the years, I’ve learned to deeply respect what others do. I love giving people a chance, connecting them, building bridges. I could never do that without the support of key collaborators. That’s why ‘No Ball Games’ today is an open, horizontal collective—no hierarchies, no egos.

And that’s exactly why the atmosphere feels so special: because there are no ‘grown-up’ interests involved. No percentages, no shares, no competition. It’s exhausting at times—it’s a massive human effort. It’s not always fun and games, even if I wish it were. But it’s a beautiful experience. The human energy that this project is generating constantly amazes me. You’ll find everything: high school kids bringing their first graffiti on canvas, legendary street artists showing work right next to them, trap artists and rappers, inclusive art collectives… all in the same room. All together. It’s incredibly emotional.

‘No Ball Games’ has already taken many shapes since it began. It started as a book, then became an event, a physical space, a performance. There are still many paths to explore. One I’d love to try—maybe even soon—is something like a community lunch, in the old-school sense of the word. A huge table, 100 chairs, everyone brings a dish or orders a pizza. No tickets. No guest lists. Just sharing. Hanging out. Laughing. Getting loud. I genuinely believe that this, too, is a form of art.”