Who we are
Sibania is an Italian company located in Vicenza. Italian handcrafted and the artisan workshop tradition are the bedrock of our constant research on materials and on production techniques.
From tradition to uniqueness
We grew up with our dolls...
... and matured with our figurines
Then our heart got its shape
Who are we today?
For the realization of these figurines, the traditional techniques are the starting point for a more innovative and contemporary representation, as actual and contemporary is the particular expressivity of our pieces.
These figurines are collectible items and really perfect as a thoughtful gift, since their expressivity can easily communicate a care or a message, so that they can become an expecially valuable present, dense with emotions and long lasting.
What is Sibania?
The Name is born first. Then the Name generates the thing.
And meanwhile, the island is there.
Like so... A bit to smile and a bit for real.
Sibania is the island that was not there.
Like so… a bit for fun and a bit for real.
" The most beautiful "
I. But more beautiful than all, the Island Never Found:
The one the king of Spain had from his cousin
The king of Portugal with sealed signature
And papal bull in Gothic Latin.
The Infante sailed off for the legendary realm,
saw the Fortunate Isles: Iunonia, Gorgo, Hera,
and the Sargasso Sea and the Dark Sea
searching for that isle… But the island was not there.
In vain the round-bottomed sailing galleys,
in vain the caravels armed their bows:
with due respect to the pope, the isle is hidden,
and Portugal and Spain still search for it.
II. The isle exists, appearing sometimes from afar
Between Teneriffe and Palma, suffused in mistery:
“… the Island Never Found!” From the high peak of Teide The good Canarian
points it out to the foreigner.
Marked on the ancient maps of the corsairs.
… Hifola to-be found? … Hifola pilgrim?…
The magic isle that glides over the seas;
mariners sometimes see her near..
And point their bows toward her blessed shore:
Among unfamiliar flowers soar lofty palms,
The divine aromatic forest, thick and lush,
Weeping cardamom, seeping rubber sap…
Herald like the arrival of a perfumed courtesan,
the Island Never Found… Yet, if the pilot draws closer,
it rapidly fades away, like a vain shadow,
Tinged with the azure color of faraway…
1913, su La Lettura del Corriere della Sera
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