I recently returned from Italy, where I visited the Dal Negro factory outside of Treviso. Dal Negro is located in a region called the Veneto, a flat, fertile plain that races out from Venice and its coast towards the mountains. Treviso is a prosperous small city, with its medieval heart still protected by its defensive walls, around and through which flow its rivers. Like nearby Venice, the city has canals and brick clocktowers, but on a smaller scale. The seal of the Winged Lion of St. Mark on its old buildings is a reminder that this was a Venetian stronghold for centuries.
The Dal Negro factory is located in an industrial park just a few miles north of Treviso. You drive past small palaces that surely inspired, and remind one of, English country estates. In the early Spring, this is a pleasant drive on the narrow lanes and I chat comfortably on the way with Franco Dal Negro, who owns the company. The Dal Negro factory is strikingly modern. The front façade is covered with reflective glass panels which make it look like a futuristic airport rather a factory. You enter through the first floor, into an airy showroom full of fine games tables, backgammon and chess sets and, of course, playing cards. The offices are on the second floor, which contains a large open area for the sales agents, designers and other personnel, plus executive offices and a conference room. Everyone is young and easygoing. The space is filled with light, which reflects off the birch colored wood floors and stainless steel fixtures, and it looks more like the offices of a small software company than a factory.
I meet with Franco in the large conference room, which holds the portraits of his parents and grandparents. You immediately realize that this still is a family-owned business. The Dal Negro family came into the playing cards business after World War I . . . by accident. The defeated Austrian Empire owned the playing cards factory in Treviso that had been operating since the 1700s, and it was given to Franco’s grandfather to pay for a pre-war business debt owed to him by the Austrians. A set of stone printing plates stand on an easel in the lobby of the factory, a testament to the level of technology that Franco’s family found when they took over. And the first order of business was to modernize the production. As I tour the factory floor, the emphasis on technology broadens. And concern about the environment is introduced. Environmental laws in Italy are strict and Franco shows me the machine that he has purchased to incinerate waste . . . it costs hundreds of thousands. But the concern does not stop at compliance . . . the design of the factory is intended to also promote conservation. The factory floor, like the offices, is bathed in natural light to save energy and improve working conditions. Dal Negro wants to convey that they are a very green company.
We dart through the production floor – Franco is a person who cannot stand still. He not only is showing me the equipment use to print and package the playing cards, but also pointing to the locations of new machines that he is purchasing. The printing presses are running and the machine operators are carefully checking the printed sheets of playing cards using a hi-tech scanner. I am struck by the person supervising the printing process – he is holding a printed sheet at eye-level and peering intensely. You could remove the machines, dress him in an Eighteenth Century waistcoat, and easily imagine this scene hundreds of years ago. There is a sense of craft here – of people of who rely on experience and instinct to create something that is not merely machine-made but has “life” in it and is enjoyable.
I spend an afternoon talking with Lisa and Linda, who manage our account. We are in the showroom reviewing the backgammon sets and other non-playing card products that we sell on our various online stores. I am surprised that one of the backgammon sets has been discontinued, because it was our best seller. But Franco decided to do it because he likes to experiment and try new things, like the new carbon fiber backgammon boards that I am being shown. Or the acetate playing cards. These are plastic playing cards made with a unique material that resists wear and warping better than PVC playing cards, which the manufacturer produces exclusively for Dal Negro. I had previously heard tales about how Franco tortures designers and production specialists with endless revisions because he wants things “just so” and for some reason I am reminded of a story that he told me at dinner. He was reminiscing about his father, who had been the leader of the local resistance during World War II, and had been arrested by the Nazis (but miraculously lived). There obviously is an independent streak that runs in this family and you get the impression that things are made in their factory not only for money, but also as a creative expression.
As I type my notes on the flight home, I think of something interesting that Franco had told me after dinner. I had asked him who he thought Dal Negro’s main competition was, and my recollection is that he had said that it was himself – that it is in his nature to push changes. And that is a good summary of my impressions after my visit to the Dal Negro factory. It is a place of tinkering, changing, updating, improving – and moving forward. Thank you.
