Turning the energy of rural Spain into the story of the race — capturing each town live and projecting it back onto its own frontón walls.
Give visibility to a sponsorship by giving visibility to what powers the race.
How the case was engineered
Section A–A′ / 06 phasesA national stage. Nothing yet to stand for.
Spain's energy retail market in 2024 was fiercely commoditised — providers competing on price alone, indistinguishable to consumers. Plenitude, Eni's retail brand, was newly landed and largely unknown. La Vuelta gave it a national stage. But sponsorship alone rarely builds a brand people believe in.
Visible. And completely forgettable.
The default execution was entirely legible: a logo on the broadcast, presence around the peloton. Seen by millions, remembered by none. The problem beneath the brief was to tie the sponsorship to the communities the race passes through — so a brand nobody knew could stand for something real.
Rural Spain is used to being passed through, not seen.
For one day the race brings the whole country's attention to a small town. The next morning the cameras are gone and it goes back to feeling invisible. These places pour real energy into the race and rarely get to see that they matter.
The town and the rider run on the same energy.
Cycling is powered by physical effort — and by the noise, belonging and collective push of the towns around it. Plenitude is an energy company with a real commitment to rural Spain. Both energies are the same force.
Each town becomes its own gallery.
We captured the energy each town gave the riders and turned it into documentary. The medium came from an unexpected place: the frontón. Traditional walls, embedded in the identity of every Spanish village, turned into open-air screens. A cultural act, not a sponsored one.
Towns saw themselves on their own walls, hours later.
Seven documentary pieces, created live as La Vuelta passed through. The voices and community life of each place — stories that only existed because the race came that day. Projected the same evening on the local frontón. A gift, not an ad.