In the heart of Perugia, light does not merely enter a room; it is curated, filtered, and transformed. At the Studio Moretti Caselli, the atmosphere is heavy with the scent of history and the silence of concentration, broken only by the rhythmic sound of the grisatoio—a traditional nibbler tool—grinding against the edges of glass. Here, the separation between the artist and the medium dissolves in the pursuit of luminescence.
Maddalena Forenza, a fifth-generation guardian of this fragile heritage, bends over her workbench. Her movements are not those of a mere fabricator but of a devotee practicing a ritual that has remained unchanged since the mid-19th century. “I love cutting, assembling, painting the pieces,” she admits. “That’s when you know if your work is good.”
Maddalena working with the “grisatoio” (nibbler or grinder), a tool for grinding the pieces of glass.
The process is unforgiving. Stained glass requires a temperament of steel to match the fragility of the silica. “You need to be very patient,” Forenza notes, acknowledging the heartbreak when a piece cracks during firing, forcing the artist to restart the cycle. Yet, when the paint is applied with thousands of impossibly light touches and the sections are suspended by cerini (waxed thread), the material transcends its physical limits. As daylight meets the jewel-hued glass, the static image begins to dance, alive with a vibrancy that canvas can never quite replicate.
The Invention of Depth
To understand the specific genius of this studio, one must look back to 1859 and the figure of Francesco Moretti. Before his time, stained glass had often devolved into a lost art or a rigid assembly of colored shards. Moretti, Forenza’s great-uncle, did not simply revive the medieval tradition; he reinvented it.
The skylight of the Provincial Government Palace in Perugia, made in 1873 by Francesco Moretti.
Moretti treated glass not as a puzzle of flat colors, but as a transparent canvas for oil painting. He developed a “hatching” technique—a method of paint application using minute, cross-hatched brushstrokes. This technique allowed for the modulation of light and shadow, granting the figures a three-dimensional depth and “rotundity” reminiscent of High Renaissance portraiture.
“Francesco Moretti was a genius,” Forenza asserts. By exploiting the interplay of transparency and opacity, the studio created works like the massive skylight of the Provincial Government Palace in Perugia (1873), where the glass seems to hold the sky itself within its narrative.
The Lineage of Patience
The studio, housed in a 15th-century residence, functions as both a workshop and a living museum. It is a space where the past actively informs the present. For Forenza, inheriting this mantle was not a foregone conclusion but a slow realization.
Left: Forenza painting detailed brush strokes. Right: Incoronazione, depicting the Crowning of the Virgin by Francesco Moretti.
“During my school years, I was very confused about my future,” she reflects. The weight of such specific, high-stakes craftsmanship can be daunting. “It took me years of hard work to realize that I could make it, that I could be as patient, precise, and meticulous as Francesco Moretti.”
Today, the studio remains a family sanctuary. Forenza works alongside her mother, absorbing advice that spans generations. The continuity is palpable in the archives and the very air of the room—a creative relay race where the baton is made of lead and light.
Restoration of an ancient stained glass window in progress at the studio.
Resilience in Fragility
There is a paradox in stained glass: it appears brittle, yet it possesses a structural resilience that defies expectation. This was proven in 1997 when a powerful earthquake shook the Umbria region. While the tremors damaged original frescoes in the family’s historic home, the stained glass masterpieces remained unscathed.
Paola Falsettini, Forenza’s aunt, offers a technical explanation for this miracle: “The small pieces of glass can move some without breaking.” The lead came and the assembly allow for a microscopic flexibility, a breath within the structure that rigid masonry lacks. Among the survivors was the colossal depiction of Queen Margherita of Savoy, a testament to both artistic vision and structural engineering created by Moretti in 1881.
The workshop of Studio Moretti Caselli in the Twenties with Rosa and Cecilia Caselli at work.
A Shifting Patronage
The context for this art form, however, is shifting. For centuries, the church was the primary patron of the glazier, using windows to illuminate scripture for the illiterate masses. In the current economic climate, that bond is fraying. “Churches are poorer, and very often they require just colored glass, which is less expensive than painted,” Forenza observes.
Rosa and Cecilia Caselli in the Twenties working on windows for St. Clare’s Church in Assisi.
Consequently, the studio has pivoted toward the secular and the private. Forenza’s commissions now often come from private clients desiring works for chapels or homes. Yet, the method remains uncompromising. Whether for a cathedral or a private residence, the kiln must still be fired, and the face of the subject must still be coaxed from the glass with the same hatching strokes used by Moretti.
Francesco Moretti in his Studio at the beginning of the 20th century.
The Flame Burns On
Despite the changing market, the passion within the Moretti Caselli walls burns as hot as their kilns. The family has opened their doors to the public, offering tours and educational programs for schoolchildren, ensuring the sensory experience of stained glass—the texture, the light, the lead—is not lost to the digital age. They have even woven their history into a fairy tale to engage younger minds.
With ten grandchildren currently growing up in the shadow of this legacy, the hope is that the flame will be passed once more. “We hope in the future, someone in the family will carry on the art,” says Falsettini. In a world of mass production, the Studio Moretti Caselli stands as a monument to the slow, deliberate, and blindingly beautiful manipulation of light.
Left: Queen Margherita’s Room with historic windows. Right: Portrait of Queen Margherita of Savoy by Francesco Moretti, 1881.
Maddalena working with the “grisatoio” (nibbler or grinder), a tool for grinding the pieces of glass.
The skylight of the Provincial Government Palace in Perugia, made in 1873 by Francesco Moretti.
Left: Forenza painting detailed brush strokes. Right: Incoronazione, depicting the Crowning of the Virgin by Francesco Moretti.
Restoration of an ancient stained glass window in progress at the studio.
The workshop of Studio Moretti Caselli in the Twenties with Rosa and Cecilia Caselli at work.
Rosa and Cecilia Caselli in the Twenties working on windows for St. Clare’s Church in Assisi.
Francesco Moretti in his Studio at the beginning of the 20th century.
Left: Queen Margherita’s Room with historic windows. Right: Portrait of Queen Margherita of Savoy by Francesco Moretti, 1881.
