The Spirit of Venice

Venetia 1947 isn’t just a motorcycle – it’s a handcrafted masterpiece blending old-school muscle with design innovation and artistry

Words and photos by Polina Krasnova/Bikers Insider

In the world of custom motorcycles, where artistry meets engineering, “Venetia 1947” stands out as a one-of-a-kind creation that bridges history, heritage and craftsmanship. Built by Boccin Custom Cycles – a renowned workshop in Venice, Italy – this extraordinary machine is a tribute to Venice itself, channelling the city’s opulence, symbolism and storied traditions into a two-wheeled masterpiece.

The name Venetia – Latin for Venice – harks back to the city’s ancient roots and enduring identity. By choosing this name, the creators honour not only the aesthetic and cultural grandeur of the city but also its timeless role as a beacon of innovation and artistry. “1947” references the year of the vintage Harley-Davidson^® Knucklehead engine that powers the bike.

Boccin Custom Cycles, under the meticulous eye of founder and builder Lorenzo “Boccin” Solighetto, has long been a name synonymous with bold vision and timeless technique. Known internationally for their American-style restorations and handcrafted customs, the Jesolo-based workshop also serves as a living museum proudly displaying work from Lorenzo’s impressive 30-year career.

The concept of Venetia 1947 began with a simple but potent vision. It was commissioned by Fabio De Pellegrin, a native of Belluno, who wanted a machine that honoured not just his personal roots but also the grandeur of Venice, whose reach once extended to his hometown during the era of the Serenissima Republic. The idea was to build an extreme old-school Knucklehead that would push artistic and engineering boundaries and bring the soul of Venice into every curve.

“We didn’t want just another show bike,” says Lorenzo. “This had to be Venice on wheels. Something that didn’t just look Venetian but felt like it.”

The references to Venice within the bike itself are as elegant as they are deliberate. The seat, for instance, is draped in lush red velvet – the same deep crimson used in traditional Venetian gondolas. It’s a tactile homage to Venice’s floating taxis, evoking memories of moonlit canals and whispered serenades. “When you sit on this bike,” Lorenzo smiles, “you should feel like you’re stepping into a gondola.”

Just behind the seat, the rear of the bike carries a strikingly sculptural element in steel: the taillight is housed within a form modelled after the fero da prora, the distinctive metal prow found on Venetian gondolas.

“The fero represents the six districts of Venice and the Doge’s cap,” explains Fabio. “Integrating that into the tail wasn’t just decoration – it was declaring the bike’s origins.”

But perhaps the most daring feature of Venetia 1947 is its use of Murano glass – a material rarely, if ever, seen in motorcycle construction. Enter Damiano Carrer, a master Murano glassmaker with a passion for breaking boundaries. Working with molten silica and centuries-old techniques, Damiano shaped the bike’s most spellbinding components: a shimmering glass fuel tank and an exquisite gas cap crowned with a miniature sculpture of the winged Lion of Saint Mark – the very symbol of Venetian identity.

“The gas tank was a real challenge,” Damiano admits. “It had to be strong enough for the road but still carry the clarity and grace that Murano glass is known for. We worked with layered techniques to ensure both beauty and endurance.”

As for the gas cap, Damiano didn’t just create a part, he told a story. The translucent Lion of Saint Mark gleams from its perch like a jewel. “That lion is Venice’s protector,” he says. “We wanted it to stand guard over the heart of the machine.”

Capturing Venetia 1947 on camera was no ordinary task. The team opted for nothing less than Venice’s beating heart – the Grand Canal – as the backdrop. But that level of authenticity wasn’t easy to achieve. The photoshoot started at 5am in a dense, ghostly fog. The February chill bit through layers of clothing and choppy waters rocked our two small boats, one of which was carrying the bike.

“Just getting the permits to shoot on the Grand Canal was a marathon,” recalls Lorenzo. “We went through weeks of requests, paperwork and a bit of Venetian diplomacy. In the end, I think the city took pity on our obsession.”

Fabio laughs, “Or maybe Venice was just feeling generous that day. Either way, we had an opportunity and we ran with it.”

Brief breaks in the fog allowed golden sunlight to flood the water, casting the bike in a painterly glow, with reflections dancing over the Murano glass tank and the lion crest gleaming like a relic. “It was surreal,” says Lorenzo. “That moment with the boat drifting, sun breaking through, Venice watching… it was as if the city said, ‘Okay, show me what you’ve made.’”

Beyond its visual majesty, Venetia 1947 rides as fiercely as it looks. The old-school Knucklehead base gives it a visceral rumble, while the custom frame and attention to traditional build techniques make it a rider’s machine. Lorenzo emphasizes that despite the fragility associated with glass, this motorcycle was built to be ridden.

“People look at the Murano tank and think it’s too delicate,” he laughs. “But we engineered it to last. Like Venice itself: it’s elegant, but it endures.”

Venetia 1947 captures the theatricality of the canals, the mystery of twilight alleys and the craftsmanship of artisans who turn raw materials into poetry. Through its red velvet seat, its gondola-inspired fero lighting, its Murano glass tank and lion-crested gas cap, this machine whispers the language of Venice as it roars down the road.

For Fabio, it’s the realisation of a dream; for Lorenzo, it’s a pioneering step into the fusion of sculpture and speed. But for anyone who lays eyes on Venetia 1947, it’s a reminder that true beauty isn’t just built, it’s crafted, remembered and reborn.