Murano

Venetian glass is a big deal 

and it is beautiful.   

 

There are of course many shops selling glass objects.  

Bill reckoned the American eagle was aimed at a very specific market.

We spent out last day at Venice on the island of Murano.

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We visited a glass museum where photos were not allowed.  

 

Someone sneaked a few anyhow (and you know what a timid rule-follower I am...).  

 

 

I settled for jotting down names from the information panels throughout the displays, eg

 

Guiseppe Briati

Osvaldo Brussa

Antonio Mota

Raffaello

Marcantonio Raimondi

There are some wonderful examples of beautiful glass objects here (v. tempting...)  

 

The history of glass making at Murano is beautifully explained here (along with a lot of other beautiful and interesting things to see).  I scribbled some notes at the museum but other than something about stiff competition with Bohemian glass (more popular because it was thicker and could be more easily engraved with the newer technology, wheels instead of diamonds) and the development of lattimo (milk glass), my notes don't make a great deal of sense, so this link is a far better bet.

We spent a lot of time trying to figure out what some of the glass shapes were as there were a huge variety of oil lamps.  One could either be sat on a table or hung by a removable screw on (glass) hook at the top.  

There was a neat cruet set for vinegar, oil, salt (practically my favourite food groups) and a candle holder.

"Chandeliers in the wind" used glass shapes like ribbons drifting in a breeze.

We saw tiny hollow tubes which were then cut into beads.  Glass beads have weight and substances that plastic simply can't match.  

As with all the museums we visited, we browsed the book and gift shop.  I noticed that a number of the coffee table books about glass art were by female authors, surname Barquier, another name prevalent amongst glass makers.  

 

Bill found a book about where to eat in Venice and noted the address of a restaurant he'd read about previously, call Vesuvio.  

Apparently it's the last restaurant in Venice with a real wood-burning pizza oven.  We left the book, but had dinner there that evening.  Not sure I fully appreciated the subtle difference between a pizza cooked in a "real" oven, but there you are.

When we'd finished at the museum we shopped for a glass souvenir.  Bill ended up with cuff links.  I bought Christmas gifts.  

 

We enjoyed wandering the relatively quiet streets in Murano. 

We found a supermarket and found packaged salads complete with oil, vinegar, salt and plastic cutlery. Bread, sausage and salad served as a satisfying lunch.

We sat in one of the shaded porticoes of this church, next to this bridge.  

Somewhere in the distance a toothless old man played an accordion and when we found him Bill added some money to his hat for 'making his lunch even more perfect.'