Sometimes glass tells more than a story of craftsmanship. Sometimes it speaks of courage, of new beginnings—and of color as emotion. That is exactly what the “a macchie” vases are about, designed by Fulvio Bianconi around 1950 for Venini on Murano.
After the dark years of the war, Italy was searching for new forms of expression. In the hot workshops of Murano, this longing met Bianconi’s artistic imagination. He was not a classical glass designer, but a graphic artist, draftsman, and observer. And that is precisely what you can feel in these vases.
“A macchie” — with spots.
Colored islands of glass seem to float within the clear glass, like memories or thoughts captured at the very moment of their creation. They are irregular, spontaneous—sometimes luminous, sometimes restrained. No design is like another. Each vase is a moment, preserved in molten glass.
The production process was risky. Introducing color while the glass was still liquid allowed little room for control. Fire, movement, and chance all played their part. Yet from this uncertainty arose their magic: a balance between artisanal mastery and artistic freedom.
In their simple forms, the vases are deliberately understated. They give space for the colors to speak—like abstract paintings that were not painted, but blown. It is no wonder that one can sense echoes of the modern painting of the time, of Paul Klee or Joan Miró, of poetry and play.
When the “a macchie” vases were shown at the Venice Biennale in 1950, they stood as a symbol of new beginnings: Murano was no longer only tradition, but also experiment, emotion, and contemporary art.
Today, these vases still feel remarkably alive. Perhaps because they do not strive for perfection. Perhaps because they show that beauty sometimes emerges precisely where control is let go.
After the dark years of the war, Italy was searching for new forms of expression. In the hot workshops of Murano, this longing met Bianconi’s artistic imagination. He was not a classical glass designer, but a graphic artist, draftsman, and observer. And that is precisely what you can feel in these vases.
“A macchie” — with spots.
Colored islands of glass seem to float within the clear glass, like memories or thoughts captured at the very moment of their creation. They are irregular, spontaneous—sometimes luminous, sometimes restrained. No design is like another. Each vase is a moment, preserved in molten glass.
The production process was risky. Introducing color while the glass was still liquid allowed little room for control. Fire, movement, and chance all played their part. Yet from this uncertainty arose their magic: a balance between artisanal mastery and artistic freedom.
In their simple forms, the vases are deliberately understated. They give space for the colors to speak—like abstract paintings that were not painted, but blown. It is no wonder that one can sense echoes of the modern painting of the time, of Paul Klee or Joan Miró, of poetry and play.
When the “a macchie” vases were shown at the Venice Biennale in 1950, they stood as a symbol of new beginnings: Murano was no longer only tradition, but also experiment, emotion, and contemporary art.
Today, these vases still feel remarkably alive. Perhaps because they do not strive for perfection. Perhaps because they show that beauty sometimes emerges precisely where control is let go.
