Home Page What is a Gondola? How are Gondolas Made? History of the Gondola How I Became a Gondola Builder Lo Squero - International Center for Traditional Boatbuilding Contact Me

How I Became a Gondola Builder I came to Venice in 1996, as a Thomas J. Watson Fellow, with the project of learning the dying art of building gondolas. I became interested in gondolas through my study of traditional woodworking and boatbuilding in the United States, and the opportunity given by the Thomas J. Watshon Foundation to spend a year in a foreign country conducting an independent study of my own design. When I learned of this possibility, I decided to propose a study of the gondola, since it is such an interesting boat whose construction is in danger of becoming a lost art. The Watson foundation liked my proposal and decided to award me the fellowship, and the most important step in my carreer was launched. I came to Venice speaking almost no Italian, not having a place to live, and not knowing with whom I could learn this dying art of building gondolas. After finding an apartment, I started to look for a gondola builder to teach me, and found that there wasn't much interest in having an American student bother them for such a thing. I was a little discouraged, but I didn't despair. I spent time learning Italian and studying the academic aspects of the gondola and its history. After a few months, I was introduced (this is the secret) to a master gondola builder, who said that he would teach me the art. Maestro Daniele Bonaldo had been building boats in Venice for over 50 years, and was preparing for retirement. He had no sons to whom to pass on his trade, and he was enthusiastic about having someone to whom to give his knowledge. He said that the only way for me to learn would be for me to build a gondola completely on my own. He said that there wasn't any problem that I didn't speak Italian, because when I would have a problem, I would show him my work and he would know what the problem was and show me what I needed to do. I showed him pictures of some boats that I had built, so he knew that I could handle the tools; it was just a matter of knowing what shapes to fashion from what type of wood and how to put them together. The only catch was that I had to have permission from the association of craftsmen to which he belonged, guaranteeing that he would not have any problem with insurance or taxes to have me working in his shop as a student. That permission was much more difficult to obtain than the construction of the gondola was. For what I wanted to do was to work in order to learn and not get paid. The law had no way of recognizing me other than as a worker, since I was working in the field of the artisan, and therefore, I should have had a work contract and my employer should pay me a salary and all of the taxes which need to be paid on a dependent worker. This ends up being a huge quantity of money which neither Maestro Bonaldo were willing or capable of paying, and besides, I already had health insurance from the US and was restricted by the stipulation of my fellowship from being paid during my study. At that point, I went to the newspaper and told them what was going on. The journalist loved it. The story had all of the elements of a great article: the gondola, bureaucracy, an American student, traditional ways being pushed out by the laws of the industrial society, etc. He used language like, "Who knows what bureaucrats could dream up to crucify the master and the apprentice?" The article came out on the front page of one of the largest papers in Northern Italy. The next day, my permission was miraculously granted from the Secretary of Labor, enabling me to study under Maestro Bonaldo for six months, building a gondola, without getting paid and without having to pay the taxes and insurance. Six months later, 11 months after I arrived in Italy, I completed the construction of the gondola and it was launched. Ironically, my gondola was purchased by an American couple who were starting a business in Providence, Rhode Island, of taking people for rides on the Providence River in their gondola. Even more ironically, Providence is where the Watson Foundation is seated. After completing my year as a Watson Fellow, I decided to stay in Venice and continue building gondolas. This entailed ten times as much bureaucratic difficulty as I had previously. Maestro Bonaldo was not able to take me on as a dependent worker, since he was to be retiring in the near future, but I was able to find a position with another boat builder who could offer me a contract. With the offer of a contract, I could apply to become a worker as a non-European, which took about five months to complete (I am told that is record speed in Italy). COLOR="#800000"> I worked for this other boat builder for a year and a half, building gondolas planked up in plywood, and then decided that modern materials are not my thing. I quit that job and started my own business as a fine woodworker and traditional boatbuilder, without a place to work, but a bag of tools to take on location. This involved another round of bureaucrocy, but by this point I had become a pro. When I have boats to work on, I go to Maestro Bonaldo, who is glad to let me use the squero as I need. COLOR="#800000"> Within the next few years, I will be starting to teach courses in traditional boatbuilding in Maestro Bonaldo's squero, and keep that place (and the gondola) alive. The program is called "Lo Squero".