Murano: The history of Venetian glass-blowing

By Alessandro Marzo Magno

When you think of the Venetian Island of Murano, glass immediately springs to mind. The history of glass has been interwoven with this island since 1290, when the Most Serene Republic of Venice ordered the transfer of all glass production to Murano to ensure that the whole of Venice would not go up in flames if a furnace were to catch fire. Since then, for over 720 years Murano has been linked to this curious, almost paradoxical substance: it is both solid and liquid. This book tell us the history of this special wonderfull glass.

• Language: English
• Publisher: VandA edizioni
• Release date: Dec 8, 2013
• ISBN: 9788898475759

Alessandro Marzo Magno

Alessandro Marzo Magno è nato a Venezia nel 1962. Laureato in storia, è giornalista. Inviato nei Balcani durante il conflitto che ha dilaniato l'ex Jugoslavia dal 1991 al 2001, ha poi lavorato in vari quotidiani, quindi è stato per dieci anni il responsabile degli esteri del settimanale "Diario". Ora scrive libri, ne ha pubblicati più di 10, fra gli altri, L'alba dei libri. Quando Venezia ha fatto leggere il mondo (Garzanti, 2012), tradotto in lingua inglese, L’invenzione dei soldi. Quando la finanza parlava italiano (Garzanti, 2013). A Trieste ha conosciuto Mirjam che è diventata sua moglie e hanno aumentato la popolazione terrestre prima di una unità (Marco,1998), poi di una ulteriore (Peter, 2000). Lì si sono fermati. Apprezza il buon vino, la buona tavola, le buone letture. Gli altri apprezzano la sua cucina, soprattutto il risotto. Alessandro Marzo Magno (Venice,1962) graduated university with a major in history and journalism. Posted in the Balkans from 1991 to 2001, during the conflict that ravaged the former Yugoslavia, he then worked in various newspapers, including the weekly Il Diario, where he directed Foreign Affairs for over ten years. Marzo Magno has published over 10 books of non fiction, including The Dawn of Books: when Venice allowed the world to read (Garzanti, 2012), translated into English and Korean; The Invention of Money. When the finance spoke Italian (Garzanti, 2013). Married with two children, he enjoys fine wine, good food and good books.

Book preview

LIVING IN A POSTCARD

It is quite a challenge to try and portray Murano to someone who is not familiar with this island, especially in just a few words. Moreover, in order to do so, it is also necessary to provide an account of what Murano was like up to only a few years ago. Nowadays, it is very much a picture postcard island, transformed by the islanders themselves into the image the tourist expects when visiting it, a place where glass has been made for over a thousand years.

Yet, to give an idea of what it was like just forty years ago, one noticeable difference is that there were once children everywhere, and a wide variety of shops, where you could buy fruit and vegetables, toys, clothes and shoes, or else consult an electrician or photographer, or simply stop and have a chat at the barber’s (there were several). There used to be a mechanic for outboard motors and a sumptuous confectioner’s, and an ironmonger who would nostalgically reminisce about the Fascist era. Boys would dive from bridges, and in general there were many more rowing boats then than now. Towards the evening, in the summer, old ladies sat in the streets to chat and enjoy the cool evening air. When the large vessels unloaded the fine white sand for the glassworks, some grains of sand would end up on the banks and we would collect it to create a fine white silica desert for the Christmas cribs. This may still happen today, just as you may smell the bisato su l’ara (a typical dish made with eels) come wafting out of the foundry, cooked in the kiln on a winter’s day.

I am well aware that this recollection is turning into another picture postcard image, which becomes even more so as the past becomes more remote, a place where there were foundries instead of mines, and every breadwinner left his home early in the morning and returned home weary in the evening. Yet, this is indeed how it was, just thirty years ago, and you may well think that life then seemed timeless. However, quite a few of us were raised in this idyllic picture, and it was natural for us to grow up between fire and water, between the furnace and lagoon.

However, today all these shops have given way to glass souvenir shops and many islanders (and Venetians) have fled to the mainland. The monoculture that has governed the island’s destiny for centuries has prevailed over other occupations, maybe because of hard times (or maybe they were too good, depending on who you were), perhaps because we were not vigilant enough or because ultimately that is the way things had to go. Yet, these recollections are not a yearning for a return to the past, for each period is unique and every event has its own special meaning. I hold tight onto my childhood like a precious gift, because it made me what I am today. Memories still come back today of my grandfather, who had built a small furnace next to his house, sitting on a bench on the garden lawn shaping glass.

Glass is all we have left today, much more so than in the past, and we are the guardians of this age-old tradition. This is why it is essential that as many people as possible become acquainted with the history and tradition of each glass creation, even the most avant-garde, not just viewing it as a consumer product. Indeed, when a glass object is created on Murano, not only is this the fruit of a master glassmaker’s skill, but it is also the result of a thousand hands before him, often those of the master’s father, his grandfather, and so on, an infinite unbroken chain of expert knowledge that has been handed down over a thousand years, embodied in the artisan’s daily gestures. As if the movements were not determined by everyday tasks, but were somehow imprinted in the artisan’s genes, the spirit of glassmaking reflected in his dexterity and expertise, his feel and respect for living matter, his sense of the glass even before it takes shape, still glowing hot in the crucible.

Although I have never actually worked any glass, I still bear this warmth in my heart, and I do not need to hold a blowpipe or tongs in order to recall the familiar actions. True, this is another postcard image. But even if it is slightly glossy, the picture still cannot obscure the island’s extraordinary legacy of creativity and beauty that dwells on the banks of its waterways. We are proud to be a link in a chain firmly rooted in the past that looks forward to a solid future. Acquiring a Murano artefact means owning a valuable item, and gaining a knowledge of its origins and what it represents within this chain means acquiring a piece of history, which is quite invaluable.

Alberto Toso Fei

THE ADVENTURE OF GLASSMAKING

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When you think of the Venetian Island of Murano, glass immediately springs to mind. The history of glass has been interwoven with this island since 1290, when the Most Serene Republic of Venice ordered the transfer of all glass production to Murano to ensure that the whole of Venice would not go up in flames if a furnace were to catch fire. Since then, for over 720 years Murano has been linked to this curious, almost paradoxical