This is not a new acquisition but a pen that I bought, gleefully, at the London Pen Show in March 2019. The Furore was then a fairly new model, which followed Leonardo’s Momento Zero and was very similar except for having bullet shaped ends.
With a range of vibrant colours, said to celebrate the natural colours of the Amalfi coast, it is hard not to be drawn to a display of these stunning Italian pens at a pen show. Shiny, smooth, tactile and colourful, with a lovely chatoyance as you turn the pen in your hand, I found the pen irresistible. Each pen is numbered on the barrel. Having chosen this refreshingly bright orange pen, it was an added bonus to learn that mine bore the serial No. 001 for this colour. I opted for a fine nib. There are both gold coloured or silver coloured nibs and fittings available.
This is quite a large pen but not overly heavy. The cap features a sturdy metal clip with a rolling wheel at the end and two gold coloured cap bands. The cap unscrews in one full turn. The section shape will be familiar from the Momento Zero, having the same generous girth at the barrel but then tapering to a narrower girth lower down. This looks a little odd at first but makes for a comfortable grip with a natural dip where I rest the pen on my second finger.
The barrel unscrews on resin threads. It is a cartridge converter pen, taking standard international cartridges but comes with a handsome, screw in, branded converter. Like the Momento Zero, there is also the option to access the converter by unscrewing the end of the barrel only, so keeping your fingers away from the ink bottle. The downside is that you do not get the same instant visual confirmation that you have filled your pen.
Nib and writing performance.
The steel fine nib works well, with a deliciously pencil-like feedback. The nib and feed are friction fit but very tight and I have not attempted to remove them since the fine nib was fitted for me when I bought the pen.
Size and weight.
The pen measures 145mm closed, 130mm open and 165mm if posted. The cap does post, quite deeply and securely and without upsetting balance, to make for a very comfortable unit if you do not mind the length.
Despite its large size, the pen weighs only 25g in all, of which 18g is the pen uncapped and 7g for the cap alone.
Likes and dislikes.
As pens go, this is a gorgeous specimen. Imagine seeing this in a tray of black pens: it would be hard not to pick it up. It has a host of nice attributes, such as the vibrant colour, attractive shape, chatoyance, comfortable grip and the smart, screw-fit converter, as well as being an enjoyable writer. On the down side, the translucence of the material does mean some discolouration at the section once the pen is inked. Also, personally, I am not so keen on the rolling wheel pocket clip feature, largely because I have seen other clips where the wheel has been lost, leaving an unsightly fork. But the wheel does help in sliding the clip over a pocket, if you want to carry the pen that way although I prefer to use a pen case.
Having reflected on my positive views on this pen, I am embarrassed to say that I have not made more use of the pen, in what is almost two years since I bought it. But in the pen’s defence I admit that this is not through any fault of the pen but rather its misfortune in landing in a household whose owner was already awash in good pens, competing for attention. And it is for this reason that I must get a grip on my appetite for shiny new pens and bring this one back into my rotation.
If you were to ask me about my experience of Italian fountain pens, I could tell you a bit about the ones that I own. In real life however, as fountain pen enthusiasts know, such a question never comes up around the office water cooler. Perhaps just as well. So I will resort to giving my response here.
A quick scroll through my pen accumulation database today, identified 12 fountain pens of Italian origin. This surprised me. I had not realised that I had so many.
I remember once watching a reviewer on YouTube, make a sweeping generalisation that Italian pens were a bit like Italian cars, by which he meant that they were flashy looking and fantastic when they worked but perhaps not the most reliable. This is probably unfair to both pen and car.
For my part, within the last four years or so, I have amassed this small sample. It is fair to say that these are all in the lower echelons of the price range. Of my twelve only one has a gold nib. This is the Aurora Ipsilon blue lacquer, with a 14k gold nib, rhodium plated. And that has not been my favourite of the bunch.
Here again, capped:-
If I were to see this tray of pens at a pen show, the one to jump out at me the most would be the orange one: the Leonardo Officina Italiana, Furore “Arancio”. It is the brightest, the longest, the most flamboyant and also one of the most enjoyable to use. Oh, and the serial number of mine is number 001.
So here is a brief run down of my thoughts on these:
Aurora Ipsilon, blue lacquer.
This is the lacquered metal and gold nibbed version. It is on the small side but posts deeply and with a secure click. I enjoyed buying it whilst visiting Verona but for some reason did not take to it and it has not had much use. The black and blue marbled finish is nice. The fine nib, I recall, was not the most enjoyable.
Campo Marzio Ambassador.
Campo Marzio hails from Rome. They have a small but delightful shop in Piccadilly and sell their own range of fountain pens from around £20 up to £80. They are colourful, good value, standard international cartridge or converter pens with steel nibs. The Ambassador was, when I bought it, at the higher end of their price range. I enjoyed being able to swap out the number 6 nibs easily. It was a big comfortable pen, posted well but could have done with being just slightly longer to be as comfortable un-posted. I think it was the first Italian pen that I had owned. I have a suspicion that it may share a common heritage with the Conklin All American as they seem to have very similar dimensions.
Campo Marzio Acropolis.
I later added this blue marbled resin Acropolis, which was similar to the Ambassador but a bit slimmer and with a black section and with metal cap threads on the barrel. My only gripe was that the cap did not post as well as I would have liked. I was afraid of pushing it on too hard and cracking it.
Delta Fantasia Vintage.
This was bought at the London Pen Show and is my only celluloid pen. The steel nib keeps the cost down. It has a lovely swirly dark green finish and I have since learned how to cap the pen such that the patterns of the cap and barrel align. Hold it with nib facing you; place the cap on; turn cap two clicks “the wrong way” and then screw it down. Hey presto. The benefits of attending a pen club. It is a beautiful pen and the steel medium nib works well.
This is included for completeness but is not one to dwell on. It has a vibrant red acrylic body, some metal lattice work on the cap and a medium Iridium point, Germany, nib. It was a spontaneous and inexpensive purchase on holiday last year. Cap does not post securely. Too short without posting.
Leonardo Officina Italiana, Momento Zero.
This is an excellent pen and excellent value. New on the scene a year or two ago, I found mine for sale by Izods at the London Pen Show. Mine had some slight teething trouble, a tiny crack in the section, which Leonardos, via Roy of Izods promptly replaced for me, sending me a complete front section with nib and feed. The replacement section had no such problem although this time, the nib tines tended to click together a little. Another issue which I and others have noted, is that the converter rattles against the barrel unless you put some tape around it. But the size of the pen and the colours are great.
Leonardo Officina Italiana, Furore.
This is a very similar pen to the Momento Zero, but with bullet shaped ends. I love mine. I took to using it with Waterman Tender Purple ink. The pen really stands out in the pen cup, for its size and orangeness.
This is standard black resin version. It is big, girthy, comfortable and posts nicely. I felt at first that the shiny plated threads were a bit of a distraction when you hold the pen, but I think with use you forget this or position your fingers to avoid the threads. The nib is smooth although very firm but that makes for a good pen for fast note-taking. It is a little pricey for a steel nib pen, but similar in price I suppose, to the Visconti Van Gogh.
Pineider Avatar, Lipstick Red.
Aah. Seldom have I enjoyed buying a new pen so much. I bought mine in Harrods, although they were no longer selling Pineider pens the last time I was there. I loved the vibrant red, mottled velvet-like pattern in the glossy red cap and barrel, the magnetic cap closure, the elegant clip, the Florence sky line on the cap ring and above all, the smooth soft nib. Everyone who tried it said it felt like a gold nib. I enjoyed basking in its reflected glory at our pen club meet ups.
Visconti Rembrandt, Twilight.
This was my first Visconti, (if I do not count a Homo Sapiens Elegance Oversize, which I bought and promptly returned as the nib was unacceptably dry and too expensive to adjust myself). The Visconti Rembrandt also wrote on the dry side but I was able to adjust the nib by using a simple technique learned from SBRE Brown’s videos, whereby you put your thumb on the middle of the nib and then push the nib down against a hard surface, (such as your other thumbnail) and so bend the tines upwards very slightly, opening up the tine spacing. This made a great improvement and now it writes beautifully.
Visconti Van Gogh, Starry Night.
I had fancied getting a Van Gogh to go with my Rembrandt, (you get the picture?). This one was was being sold by my friend Penultimate Dave at our June pen club meet. When I had seen the full range in a shop in Cardiff once, the Starry Night was my favourite. I may have had to do the same trick with this Fine nib but now it writes superbly, smooth and wet.
Vittorio Martini (established 1866), the Col Disore.
This was spotted in the window of a stationery shop in Sirmione, on Lake Garda, for 56 euros. I was attracted by the unusual fluted Maple wood barrel, which I felt looked a bit like the Diplomat Aero. It was a holiday purchase and a nice souvenir. I used it throughout my stay in Italy, with a black cartridge and the cap posted. However, with more comfortable and better-performing pens at my disposal, I have not used it so much since then but it is well made and it is nice to have a shiny, chrome, screw-on cap at this modest price.
So that has been my experience of owning Italian pens, so far. I still have the urge one day to acquire a superior Montegrappa something, in blue celluloid and sterling silver. And the Aurora Talentum is still on my wish list, notwithstanding the lacklustre experience with the Ipsilon. The Italian allure lives on.
Finally, this has been my 100th post and it seems a fitting milestone at which to say a big Thank you for reading, liking, commenting and following this blog.