MAKERS | EUROPE | ITALY | MULTI-MEDIA
Paola Napoleone | Lamp Maker

Paola Napoleone’s lamps often end up decorating the most elegant homes in Italy, and it is to her that decorators turn when they want something truly special. Her creations stand out not only for their sculptural and unexpected shapes, and thoughtfully paired colors, but also for the deep reflection behind each piece, turning artisanal path into a true philosophy.
How did you begin?
I came to lampshades almost by chance — thanks to a special acquaintance, Fabiola De Clercq, who had started lampshade-making as a hobby and later turned it into a career. I had just completed my studies in Literature and Art History at university and was fascinated by her artistic flair and manual skill. In contrast, I was known in my family for “not knowing how to hold a needle,” so my decision to attend her workshop seemed eccentric. At the time, I had no idea how creative and multifaceted the world of lampshades could be — but, as the saying goes, I enjoyed andare a bottega (going to the workshop).
How did you learn?
During my apprenticeship, lampshades were made only with cardboard or fairly plain fabrics, which didn’t require any specialized skill. Still, learning the basics taught me precision — and sparked a passion. Over time, as I gained autonomy, I began to design more complex forms, which required a mastery of technique. My search for an expressive language of surprising and enlivening shapes began - and, added to this, a progressive exploration of the incredible world of fabrics with a focus on those of artisanal origin. The lit light brings out the warp and weft of the fabric, and choosing the right material for my lampshades gives it the finishing touch. I must mention here another friend, Gaia Franchetti: it was she, with her encyclopedic knowledge of the craft, who set me on my quest.

How do you plan, prepare and create your designs?
The first step is always a sketch — putting an idea on paper. At first, I found the digital shift a little unsettling, but I’ve since grown used to seeing the three-dimensional form appear on-screen before I even bring the drawing to the fustarolo — the craftsperson who creates the frame out of iron rods. This is where the idea starts to take shape in the real world. After this, the second part of my work begins—the application of the fabrics. The more complex the shapes are, the longer the process takes... I used to be impatient, but today I have calmed down.
Who or what most influences your work?
I’ve come to believe that everything can be a form of creative training. I love studying different art movements — some of my lampshades even bear names inspired by what influenced them. But I find most of my inspiration in the world around me. Everyone in my family is quick to send me things they find beautiful or intriguing, knowing that my strength lies in synthesis. my philosophy is that if a concept is strong, it holds up even in extreme simplification. So no matter how layered or complex my starting point is, I always strive for a final result that feels light — free of unnecessary ornamentation. And, of course, color plays a key role: I love carefully considering combinations, or figuring out how to recreate a certain hue from raw pigments.
What does a typical day look like?
The room where I work is my personal think tank, and I’ve set it up to reflect that. There are unused fabrics that I protect like treasures, samples of lampshades suspended from the ceiling, and even a collection of perfumes that help spark new color ideas. Usually, it’s a space of perfect order — but whenever I get a burst of energy to finish something, a kind of creative chaos takes over. Once the piece is done, I always restore order, because that’s the only environment where I can think clearly.
The advantage of being a craftsperson is that you can work in your own space, with your own rhythms (which are often much more hectic than you would expect), and, in general, you can live “in your own world.” My good fortune has always been my clients, who have sought me out, spurred me on, and given me the confidence to dare. When the time comes to accept a new commission, I feel a certain anxiety, but I recognize the fundamental importance of testing myself every time— experimenting with new challenges.

One more thing... The career you'd pursue if you weren't a craftsperson?
Lampshades can also be thought of as “lamp hats,” and over time I’ve become interested in making actual hats. I greatly admire Philip Treacy — the royal family’s milliner — and sometimes his work has inspired mine. A similar fascination, although less associated with my current profession, is with chairs: I would like to have the skills to study their comfort, the perfect angle, etc.
Interview by Sara Pierdonà
Images from Ilaria Licci, Serena Eller Vainicher, Simon D'Exéa and Monica Spezia