The maestro of Italian glassmaking

Over 15 people work in Massimo's studio
His pupils have included young star Simone Crestani
He always carries a sketchbook for his drawings

Although he is one of the undisputed masters of Italian glass, Massimo Lunardon has never won a prize. “Perhaps it’s because I won a cup for a running race when I was 12,” he laughs. “I don’t like competitions. I also hate worldliness, and I am embarrassed when I have to talk in public.” He is satisfied with the praise he receives from collectors, and from the many designers who go to him to create their objects. “Working with people from different fields is the most stimulating part of my profession. Recently I enjoyed collaborating with great chefs to create bespoke table sets. They include Massimo Alajmo of the Le Calandre di Sarmeola restaurant in Rubano, near Padua, and Enrico Crippa of the Piazza Duomo restaurant in Alba.”

Massimo Lunardon is a master artisan: he began his career in 1988 and he started teaching in 1996

Discover his work

Flute pesce

Octopus decanter

Goto, gottino, cichetti

Vaso picchio

INTERVIEW

After working for ten years in someone else’s workshop, at age 24 I decided to open my own. The first thing I did was write to all the great artists who inspired me, asking them to collaborate. The only one who replied was Roy Lichtenstein, who told me he was not interested. I was so overconfident that I couldn’t understand his refusal.

Getting to know architects like Michele De Lucchi and Matteo Thun. They believed in me, and I started to make a name for myself. Then the art world finally arrived: I had the opportunity to work with most of the members of the Fluxus group, from Yoko Ono to Takako Saiko. In 1994, I decided to launch my own design collection.

A pitcher with bubbles that I still show people with pride and that always attracts a lot of enthusiasm. A friend of mine had asked me to create some corporate Christmas gifts for his father’s company. He selected them all, except for this strange pitcher. That’s where it got its name: 'Why don’t you want me?'

I was 12 the first time I went into a glass workshop in the town where I was born. I was enthralled by this solid material that becomes liquid in a matter of seconds, which you can shape and mould as you wish. I was thunderstruck, like when you fall in love for the first time as a teenager.