I stepped into a thrift store without any real purpose—just hoping to browse through the shelves and see what might catch my attention. That’s when I noticed something unusual sitting among the clutter—a small, oddly shaped object that looked like a mix between a potato and a miniature submarine. My curiosity got the better of me, and when I turned it over, I noticed an inscription that read: “Ant. Canella Ferrara, Italy.”
To my surprise, this strange little item turned out to be a handmade ceramic ocarina from Italy—and the price tag said one dollar. Intrigued, I decided to look it up, and soon discovered that it was an Antonio Canella ocarina, a beautifully crafted wind instrument from the Italian city of Ferrara.
Ocarinas have existed for centuries, but their modern form rose to popularity in 19th-century Italy, where master craftsmen like Antonio Canella elevated their design and sound. His instruments are especially admired for their distinctive tone and exquisite craftsmanship, blending art and function in a way few other instruments do.
The ocarina I found is a brown, ten-hole transverse design, with a small gold stamp near the mouthpiece—a subtle but elegant mark of authenticity. It has that unmistakable handmade feel, the kind that reveals a craftsman’s touch in every curve and contour. When I brought it to my lips and played, it released a sound that was hauntingly beautiful—soft, unique, and filled with character.
As I did more research, I learned that Antonio Canella’s ocarinas typically sell for anywhere between $30 and $100, sometimes even more depending on their rarity and condition. Finding one sitting quietly on a thrift store shelf for a single dollar felt like pure serendipity—a small stroke of luck that brightened my entire day.
What fascinated me most was imagining the journey this ocarina must have taken to end up there. Perhaps it once belonged to a traveler, an artist, or a collector who brought it across oceans. Maybe it had been a cherished keepsake, its melodies once echoing through a small Italian home before finding its way into a box and, eventually, onto that thrift store shelf. Objects like these often carry untold stories, quietly passing through generations without anyone realizing their worth until they’re found again.
I also found myself thinking about the city of Ferrara, the birthplace of Canella’s craftsmanship. Known for its rich artistic heritage and centuries-old music traditions, it made perfect sense that an instrument so simple yet profound could come from there. The ocarina, after all, isn’t just a tool for making music—it’s a piece of cultural history that reflects human creativity and the universal love for sound.
Later that evening, I played it once more, this time with my eyes closed. The tone was gentle, almost like a whisper from the past. It wasn’t about perfection or pitch—it was about connection. For a brief moment, I felt linked to the artisan who shaped it by hand, to the music lovers who once cherished it, and to the centuries of tradition it represents. It was humbling to realize how something so small could carry so much meaning.
Ocarinas are renowned for their gentle, nostalgic sound, the kind that instantly transports you to another time. Whether played as an instrument, displayed as an art piece, or collected for its history, each one carries a quiet charm that resonates far beyond its size.
This little discovery reminded me why I love browsing through thrift stores. Hidden among forgotten objects and dusty shelves are treasures waiting to be found—pieces of art, history, and craftsmanship that tell stories of their own. You just have to look closely enough to find them.