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| Murano glass flutes by Andrea Castione & Simone Cenedese - Photo: Cat Bauer |
(Venice, Italy) Venetians have practiced the art of glassmaking for more than a thousand years, a talent that has always fascinated me. To celebrate the ninth edition of
The Venice Glass Week, I am republishing an article I wrote 24 years ago, way back in 2001, for
Italy Daily, the Italian supplement of the
International Herald Tribune.
It's interesting to see how much times have changed. Italy switched from using the lira to the euro by 2002. The Cold War ended around 1990, but it wouldn't be until 2007 that Romania became part of the European Union. Mercadanti has long been out of business. The Damiani Group became the owner of
Venini in 2020.
But some crucial things have remained the same. In 2001, at age 27,
Simone Cenedese was already one of the youngest glass maestros on Murano. Today, at age 52, Simone continues to work his magic on Venice's glass island.
Here is the original article, slightly edited:
A Glass is Born in Venice
Italy Daily
Wednesday, February 21, 2001
By Cat Bauer
Special to Italy Daily
©Cat Bauer
Andrea Castione was so excited when he saw the prototype of his drinking glass brought to life by Murano master glassmaker Simone Cenedese that he ran to a nearby osteria at lunchtime to show a shopkeeper the results.
"Careful," the shopkeeper warned, tucking the work of art back in the box. "There's nothing but glassblowers in here."
Murano has always been a secretive island, about a ten-minute vaporetto ride from Venice, yet mysterious enough even to Venetians. Glassmaking traditions pass from father to son. Competition and copying are rampant. Feuds rage between different branches of the same family. The industry is of such importance that, in the past, a traitorous glassbower who revealed his secrets would be punished by exile or even death.
Mr. Castione's design -- the flute of the glass is separate from the base -- was unique on the island and had never been blown before.
Ferruccio Gheradi, owner of Mercadanti, a shop that sells original works at the foot of the Rialto Bridge, said, "I am Venetian. I was born here, grew up here, live here, work here. As soon as I saw this glass, I said, 'Finally. Something new.'"
In 1291, fear of fire moved Venetian glassmaking to the secluded island, where many of the factories remain today. During the Republic, the Doge of Venice granted special privileges to the Muranesi. They had their own "Golden Book," which listed the most important families, creating a local hierarchy that still exists informally today. Keeping the glassmakers cloistered on an island, swearing them to secrecy, and showering them with riches and titles of nobility practically guaranteed the Venetians control of the marketplace.
With all this in mind, Mr. Castione was hesitant to approach the island. Although his own Venetian roots date back to the 1600s, even a native like him has little cause to set foot on Murano.
"It's not like Burano or Torcello, where you go to have some fish, or maybe a stroll," he said. "You go to Murano for business."
But he loved the glass. As a child, he was taken by his father, an artist, to visit a factory where he saw a blower creating a vase. It was an image he never forgot. "There's something magical and pure about glass. It occurs naturally in volcanoes, on the beach -- when lightning strikes the sand, it creates long, thin tubes called 'petrified lightning.' But Murano is not the only place where they make glass. There are Venetians blowing glass on the mainland, too."
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Simone Cenedese, left, and Andrea Castione
discuss the design of a new prototype.
Photo: Italy Daily |
The art of glassmaking is nearly as old as the Pyramids of Egypt. The tradition dates back about 3,500 years. The art of blowing the glass is a new concept -- about 2,000 years old -- and Venice one of its most respected centers. Over the centuries, the secret of what ingredients to mix together and in what quantities has been lost and rediscovered.
At the
Venice Glass Museum on Murano, visitors can take a trip through the evolution of local glass. It is created by mixing a hodgepodge of ingredients, similar to the way a cook makes hard candy. The main element is silica, which the ancient Venetians dredged out of the Ticino River in the form of pebbles, then crushed. This was mixed with soda ash derived from plants, powdery marble, arsenic, and potassium carbonate.
The whole batch was heated until it melted and turned into a syrupy mass. When it cooled, it became glass. Today, the process remains much the same except that the furnaces are heated by natural gas, not wood, and the ingredients come from different localities. The tools themselves have been unchanged for centuries, dating back to the Middle Ages.
According to Mr. Gherardi, these days the island of Murano harbors another secret: A large percentage of the glass that is sold in the shops in Venice comes from Eastern European countries. In fact, it is not unusual for tourists to be pressured into taking a "free" tour of the island, complete with glass-blowing demonstration, only to find themselves corralled by high-pressure salespeople at the end.
"When I first started in this business, I had another little shop that sold the glass you see everywhere," said Mr. Gherardi. "I was surprised to find out that the representative I bought the glass from also sold glass to Murano! Many of those factories you visit where they give the demonstrations, surrounded by glass objects, well, that glass is coming from Eastern Europe, not here."
It all started when the Cold War ended, he explained, and Western Europe was suddenly open to its much poorer Eastern neighbors. "What does 20,000 lire buy in Venice? Not much. In Romania, you can feed your family with that."
Many major glass factory owners on Murano went to the East, opened factories there, and trained the Eastern Europeans in the art of making Venetian glass. "Except for Bohemia," Mr. Gherardi said. They have always had their own style, their own glass. But you can tell if a glass is blown or not. There will be little imperfections because it is touched by a human hand."
To English speakers, the word "factory-" conjures images of General Motors assembly lines, but an Italian
fabbrica is often very small, with only a handful of employees, not capable of producing mass quantities of goods. Government controls are strict and expensive, and the price of materials and taxes is staggering.
"It's just not possible for most factories on Murano to produce the inexpensive glass you see on the street. Their costs are too high," Mr. Gherardi said.
Now that even the world-famous Venini glass factory is owned by Denmark's Carlsberg Breweries, are there any small, family-owned glass-blowing factories left on Murano?
Simone Cenedese, 27, is one of the youngest maestri, or master glassblowers, on Murano. In his case, it helped to be born with the last name "Cenedese," a family with a long-standing reputation. According to his father, Giovanni, a well-respected glass master himself, Simone was blowing simple objects such as apples and pears at 10 years old.
"He loved coming to the furnaces more than going to school," Giovanni said. "In fact, when he was about 15, he started working full-time with me in the factory."
Simone corrected his father: "I made a 'sort' of pear when I was 10. It wasn't until I was a teenager that I could make a good one."
But pedigree alone doesn't a master make. "You must have a passion for the glass," said Simone. "I started at the bottom and worked my way up, gradually making more complicated pieces. I'm still learning every day."
Simone continued, "Being born into the Cenedese family gave me the opportunity to make mistakes and learn from them. Many people don't get that chance."
Simone disagrees that most glass in Venice comes from the East. "Yes, it's true that some factories do this and use high-pressure sales techniques. But those are the places that give Muarano a bad name. I know several small factories, some with only one furnace, that make little inexpensive objects."
"Because our focus is on quality pieces, we don't do it, but not all glass made in Murano is a work of art," he said. "Often times it's just a very nice piece of glass."
Simone does concur that competition is fierce. "Customers recently came to Murano to find my father. Another factory intercepted them and said, 'Oh, it's so sad. Giovanni is dead. But if you like, you can come to my factory and see what we have.' For the record, Giovanni Cenedese is alive and well!"
Ultimately, Andrea Castione decided to have his drinking glass blown two different ways: a limited collector's line from the Simone Cenedese factory,
Linea Vetro Murano, signed by both the maestro and the designer; and another series from Renata Gardini, a small Venetian-owned factory that's been blowing glass for more than 25 years.
"They have different techniques. The glass each factory uses has unique qualities, creating two distinct expressions of the same design," said Mr. Castione. "They are like my children, and I love them both."
The Venice Glass Week 2025 runs from September 13 to September 21. Go to
#The Magic Of Glass to discover the program.
Ciao from Venezia,
Cat Bauer
