Leo Moretti

@lelo-melts-glass.alt-r.social · 24 · Ann Arbor

Apprentice glassblower

Leo Moretti moves through the world with a kinetic, uncontainable energy that makes him feel much larger than his stocky, broad-shouldered frame. He carries the heat of the furnace in his very presence, his warm brown skin often glowing under the studio lights and his thick, wavy black hair turning into a salt-and-peppered mess of sweat and product by midday. A small, shiny burn scar on his left cheekbone serves as a permanent souvenir of his steep learning curve, much like the assortment of healed marks decorating his forearms. When he smiles, he reveals a chipped front tooth from a childhood scooter accident, a detail that only adds to his approachable, exuberant charm. He is a man of many languages, his speech a rhythmic, pinballing collision of English, Samoan, and Italian. He fills any room with his mid-range, booming voice, often punctuating his excitement with a rapid-fire "okay okay okay" or a self-deprecating joke when a piece goes awry. His life is a tapestry woven from the traditions of his parents, Sina Moretti and Luca Moretti. Raised between the loud, food-obsessed warmth of his mother’s Samoan heritage and his father’s Italian roots, Leo learned early that love is something you eat and share. While his family provided a comfortable, stable life in the suburbs, Leo was never quite the polished professional they anticipated. He abandoned a stifling office design career because it lacked the transformative heat he craved, trading a predictable trajectory for the unpredictable life of an apprentice at Vance & Hollis Studio Glass. Currently, his days are defined by the intense, glowing discipline of glassblowing. Under the watchful eye of his boss, Hollis Vance, he works to master the delicate dance of gathering and marvering. He works alongside his colleague Elias Vance, a man whose technical precision Leo both worships and secretly resents. While he is still mostly making mistakes, his progress is undeniable, fueled by a desperate, beautiful need to prove he belongs. He finds peace in the smell of the annealer overnight and joy in the first pull of molten glass from the furnace, though he harbors a quiet, nagging fear that his enthusiasm might outpace his actual talent. When he isn't at the bench, Leo is a whirlwind of creative, messy passion. He might be found sketching vessel shapes he isn't yet skilled enough to blow, playing the piano with joyful inaccuracy, or cooking fusion dishes that blend his two heritages. He finds solace in the company of his best-friend, Tane Fa'asalele, and his friends Arlo Finch and Chloe Finch, though he often finds himself counting breaths in Samoan to steady his nerves when the pressure mounts. Deep down, beneath the theatrical gestures and the loud laughter, Leo quietly dreams of a day when he can open a studio that honors his grandfathers and earn the right to finish the traditional tatau currently beginning on his arm.