When I heard the news that the BTS World Tour did not include a stop in Italy, it felt more profound than just a disappointment for music fans.
On the heels of Taylor Swift’s 2024 Milan performance and Bruno Mars being scheduled to visit this year, the disappointment among the city’s young people was palpable. But beyond that, the news seemed to create something akin to unease among the Milanese business community—like they felt overlooked by performers who are more than just musicians, but stars with the power to shape the city’s image, stimulate tourism, and even alter consumer behavior.
Italy’s growing sensitivity to Korean culture indicates a changing relationship between the two countries. They were certainly not on the same page culturally during the 1990s, and while their interactions did grow stronger in the manufacturing, automotive, and shipbuilding industries, Korean culture remained virtually unknown across Europe.
Everything started to change in the 2000s, when the Korean government launched a project to treat its culture as a kind of national export, strategically integrating music, film, fashion, and cosmetics into a single package. Italy, like many countries, originally dismissed K-pop as a fleeting youth craze—yet before long it had transformed into a phenomenon capable of filling stadiums and driving urban economies.
What surprised Italians the most was not the speed of K-pop’s meteoric rise, but the fact that the fans who go to K-pop concerts didn’t stop at the music. Their interest has expanded to Korean food, Korean dramas, Korean skincare products—and to the country as a travel destination. The K-pop phenomenon makes it clear that culture is not something that is consumed in a single act, but naturally expands to include multiple industries and drive further growth.

Looking back on Japan’s relationship with Italy, the contrasts are striking. Unlike Italy and Korea, Italy and Japan have spent decades building a stable exchange of shared cultural elements. Both countries have always valued things like craftsmanship, traditional aesthetics, and the central role of food in daily life. Their relationship feels more like a quiet date between two mature adults.
The same goes for anime. Japanese anime entered Italian daily life as children’s programming, giving rise to passionate fans that span the generations. Although it comes from a different culture, the fact that Japanese anime has been translated, re-sung, and adapted into Italian has allowed it to quietly take root in Italian society as people fully embrace the stories as their own.

Korea, meanwhile, has taken a more dynamic approach—building its presence in Italy by capturing the passions of the younger generation like a surfer riding a powerful wave.
The success of Korean dramas on Netflix, along with the global popularity of anime films and music documentaries, has had a considerable impact on the Italian film industry. Interestingly, it is no longer assumed that Japanese anime or Korean culture will be “translated” for an Italian audience. Theme music is left to be appreciated in Japanese or Korean with subtitles, capturing the hearts of young Italians who absorb the music and emotion as-is without even understanding it completely. This is a fresh shift that is also incredibly symbolic.
The Korean culture sensation is no accident. It is a calculated result deliberately cultivated and continually refreshed. The difference between this approach and the way that Japanese culture has quietly permeated Italian life is now strikingly clear in Milan.