The new website of Impiraressa Marisa, who doesn't like numbers
Twenty years of work as an impiraressa in Venice
When you reach my age, it’s inevitable to find yourself reckoning with the past, with things accomplished and those left undone, with successes and mistakes that sometimes became good life lessons, other times inevitable setbacks.
I opened my first workshop as an impiraressa artisan at the end of 2006, so this Christmas will mark exactly twenty years of independent professional activity.
Not that I hadn’t worked with beads before, it’s just that at first it was a hobby and then I did it for others.
I’ve accumulated a wealth of experience. When I decided to start my own business, I already had over twenty years of experience selling everything typically Venetian: Murano glass, lace, fine fabrics, and even silver and gold jewelry.
But I had a deep need to create with my own hands and so many beautiful ideas for my future.
Learn, resist, reinvent an ancient craft
My passion was immense, but my inexperience in budgeting was equally as great: I had no idea how difficult it would be to make ends meet stringing beads, a profession always considered poor.
I took every course possible: from web writing to basic Russian to visual merchandising. Because being a bead stringer today, with so much merchandise arriving with a simple click from every corner of the world, is a challenge.
The elderly bead stringers I met over the years were almost ashamed to be seen in public as such; for some, the profession they had practiced all their lives was synonymous with low-paid, repetitive, and unrewarding piecework, yet they all still thrilled to the beauty of the strung beads, to the skill required to handle the long, thin needles to transfer the tiny beads onto the thin thread, and they cherished the memory of the work, often done in groups with neighbors, relatives, and friends in the alley outside their homes.
I underestimated this problematic aspect of the long time it takes to produce results that can be converted into profit, and to be honest, I had an overly romantic vision. Over time, I tried to refine my efforts, asking myself: “Why, in a world overflowing with jewelry, would anyone prefer my creations?”
The impiraresse, the memory and the UNESCO recognition
From there, I began to seriously consider the history of beads, the culture they had generated around themselves during their endless travels as a commodity around the world. I studied, I compared my role with that of other artisan artists, and I developed my own style, even in the promotion, valorization, and preservation of art.
I joined other colleagues; we organized conferences, fashion shows, and local activities, and then created a committee that worked on the UNESCO ICH project, which ultimately resulted in the recognition of the heritage community in 2020.
Lose, start again, create again
Then came the closure of my workshop, and a host of changes in my life following the deaths of my husband, mother, and father, all within a few months.
Since 2020, I’ve lived in five different houses, moving boxes here and there, including many filled with beads and work materials. Like everyone else, I’ve faced two waves of Covid. But I’ve also begun a new professional life thanks to the Bottega Cini project. With Marco Vidal, Giovanni Alliata di Montereale, and Jelena Vesic, the gallery director, we’ve launched a myriad of activities.
Twenty years of work. Ten years of “Venice Glass Week,” just as many events during Art Night Venezia promoted by Ca’ Foscari, Fashion Week with Venezia da Vivere, and a subscription to the “Italian Stories” portal, for which I must thank Eleonora Odorizzi, a brilliant visionary of experiential tourism: she taught me how to interact with the public and give voice to the impiraresse of the past, perpetuating their art and social role as an important part of Venice’s history.
I undertook dozens and dozens of interviews, photo sessions, exhibitions, participation in marketplaces and conferences, collaborations for the Venice Carnival, subscriptions to web portals dedicated to craftsmanship like Original Venice and Makers Mile, and then, when I felt confident enough, I began to teach what I had often learned “by stealing with my eyes.”
When I started playing with beads, there were no books or videos like today, and few artisans were willing to share techniques and tricks of the trade.
I learned something on my own, reconstructing the techniques, some advice was given to me by some kindly suppliers, from Mrs. Costantini I received a scoop as a gift that I had timidly forced myself to ask for, then one fine day I found a “muda” of 100 long beading needles in an old haberdashery after having searched for them for a long time, old but new, never used in their original brown English paper. I still remember that moment of joy: I immediately called my sister-in-law Sandra to tell her from a payphone, because cell phones didn’t exist yet.
Teach today, so as not to lose tomorrow
I’ve worked my way up the ladder, and I promised myself I’d make the journey easier for anyone who wanted to learn with the right spirit—not to compete with me unfairly, but because a profession that’s no longer practiced dies quickly and must be conducted with respect and passion. Venice has already lost too much of its soul; we must save everything we can for the benefit of the new generations. This is why I’m happy to be teaching again this year for the Place of Wonder Foundation scholarship program; in 2025, I also taught at the Academy of Fine Arts in the Master’s program in Contemporary Jewelry Design, and I volunteered with Marina Majcen and her eighth-year students at the Michelangelo Guggenheim Art School.
This site has been revamped by Monica Cesarato, my dear friend and expert, who curated the first edition of the site when it went online in 2019. Almost seven years have passed, and, as proof of my lack of interest in numbers, I’ve never adjusted the prices of my items.
My approach to craftsmanship is based on respect for my customers, who have often become friends. At Bottega Cini, where I’ve had my workshop since 2020, they can find jewelry for all price points, as is right, because we all deserve to have a few “Venetian Dreams.”
I look forward to seeing you for new adventures.
Marisa Convento
