In the wake of one of Switzerland’s deadliest nightclub disasters, survivors of the New Year’s Eve fire at Le Constellation bar in Crans-Montana are sharing chilling accounts of how a festive champagne display turned deadly in seconds. Eyewitnesses describe a waitress or female staff member being hoisted on a colleague’s shoulders, waving lit sparklers atop champagne bottles perilously close to the low ceiling—igniting flammable acoustic foam and unleashing an inferno that claimed 40 lives and injured 116 others.
The tragedy unfolded around 1:30 a.m. on January 1, 2026, as hundreds packed the basement venue in the glamorous Alpine resort to celebrate the new year. Le Constellation, a local favorite popular with teenagers (Switzerland’s drinking age for beer and wine is 16), was alive with music and excitement. Staff routinely enhanced the atmosphere with dramatic bottle service: champagne topped with fizzing “fountain” sparklers, often paraded aloft or even elevated on shoulders for spectacle.
Sixteen-year-old French survivor Axel Clavier recounted the pivotal moment to reporters: “One woman climbed onto another woman’s shoulders with two bottles and birthday sparklers were going off. She waved them too high, they hit the ceiling and it caught fire.” Other witnesses echoed similar details. Two women interviewed by French broadcaster BFMTV described a male bartender lifting a female colleague on his shoulders as she held a lit sparkler-adorned bottle, bringing it dangerously near the ceiling. Flames erupted almost instantly, spreading across the wood-paneled and foam-insulated surface.
A promotional video from the bar, uploaded in 2024, shows staff in distinctive crash helmets carrying similar sparkler-topped bottles through crowds—highlighting a signature ritual now under intense scrutiny. Photos circulated by survivors capture the chaos: partygoers initially filming the “show” as small flames appear, one young man desperately beating at the ceiling with a cloth or shirt to no avail. “We thought it was part of the celebration at first,” one survivor told media. “Then the screams started.”
The fire’s rapid escalation—described as a “flashover” by authorities—turned the basement into a trap. Dense toxic smoke from the combustible acoustic foam (installed during a 2015 renovation) filled the space, while a crush formed at the narrow staircase and limited exits. Some doors were reportedly blocked or locked, exacerbating the panic. Survivors spoke of trampling, smashed windows, and clothes melting onto skin. “It happened in seconds,” said another eyewitness. “The ceiling was on fire, then everything was black smoke.”
Among the acts of heroism amid the horror was local resident Paolo Campolo, a 55-year-old Swiss-Italian banker living just 50 yards away. His 17-year-old daughter, delayed in joining friends at the bar, called in panic upon hearing the commotion. Campolo rushed to the scene, pried open a jammed side emergency door, and pulled out at least ten young people, including friends of his daughter. Hospitalized for smoke inhalation, he downplayed his bravery: “They could have been my children.” Footage shows a figure matching his description forcing the door as flames roared.
The victims were heartbreakingly young: 26 teenagers among the 40 dead, the youngest 14 (a Swiss girl and a French boy). Nationalities included 21 Swiss, nine French, six Italians, and others from across Europe. Identification, complicated by severe burns, concluded by January 5. Crans-Montana, a tight-knit community of luxury chalets and ski slopes, has been plunged into grief. Makeshift memorials overflow with flowers, candles, and messages; silent marches and masses draw thousands. Switzerland observed national mourning, with flags at half-mast.
Investigators swiftly pinpointed sparklers as the cause. Valais prosecutor Béatrice Pilloud stated: “Everything leads us to believe the fire started from sparklers on champagne bottles moved too close to the ceiling.” Terrorism was ruled out; no primary explosion occurred, though a loud “bang” heard by many resulted from the flashover. A criminal probe targets owners Jacques and Jessica Moretti, a French couple, for negligence—including involuntary homicide and failure to ensure fire-safe materials and proper exits.
Revelations of safety lapses have fueled outrage. The bar hadn’t undergone a required fire inspection since 2019, despite annual mandates. Mayor Nicolas Féraud expressed “bitter regret,” announcing an immediate ban on indoor sparklers and external audits for all venues. Experts note the non-fire-retardant foam as a key accelerator, echoing past tragedies like the 2003 Station nightclub fire in the US.
As of January 7, 2026, the community grapples with irreversible loss. Survivors like Axel Clavier, who escaped by breaking a window but lost a friend, carry physical and emotional scars. Paolo Campolo, from his hospital bed, reflected on the “lucid desperation” in victims’ eyes. Questions persist: Were risks of sparklers underestimated? Could alarms, sprinklers, or better enforcement have saved lives?
This disaster serves as a grim reminder that revelry can turn catastrophic when safety is overlooked. In Crans-Montana’s serene Alps, scarred by ashes, calls for reform grow louder—to honor the 40 silenced voices and prevent future heartbreak.
