One of the most eminent glassblowers alive, Lino Tagliapietra is a Venetian Primo Maestro who has taught glassblowing around the world and made major contributions in the transition of glass from craft to art.

Zorzi, Alvise. Venice: The Golden Age, 697-1797. Trans. Nicoletta Simborowski and Simon Mackenzie. New York: Abbeville Press, 1980.

Zorzi gives a vivid account of the rise of the Venetian Empire and its eleven-hundred year ‘Golden Age,’ using historical quotations, pictures, diagrams, etc.  He traces the history of Venice, from its beginnings as a refuge for Romans, escaping from the barbarians that destroyed their Empire, to its own imperial dominance and mastery of overseas trade.  Venice has an almost mythic quality to it, which it why Daphne du Maurier chose to set her short story, Don’t Look Now, in Venice.  Zorzi writes of Venice’s beginnings, “Tradition and legend […] surrounds the founding of Venice in a mythology which is almost reminiscent of the Biblical account of the origins of the world” (10).  The mysterious quality of the city makes it a perfect setting for Don’t Look Now, which toys with reality and makes us question our historical vision.  Zorzi explains that Venice was seen as an “overbearing entity, which aroused hatred suspicion, worry and fear” (7).  He describes Venice as an ominous figure, menacing those around it.  Roeg captures this negative character of Venice in the film, making the city complicit in the death of John Baxter.
Zorzi explains that the Venetians were “descendants of the Romans that had opted for the freedom of the seas and lagoons rather than bend to the will of barbarian monarchs” (68).  Venice is described as a safe-haven, a place for people to escape to (from the crumbling Roman Empire).  Don’t Look Now captures this aspect of Venice, because John and Laura are refugees in a way.  They are attempting to escape from their pain and sorrow over the death of their daughter by ‘escaping’ to Venice.
Understanding the history of Venice also illuminates certain moments of dialogue in the film.  For example, when John says, “The deeper I go, the more Byzantine it gets,” he is referring both to the difficulties that arise as his renovation of the church progresses and the fact that Venice was built by Byzantines (i.e. citizens of the Roman Empire).  The devotion of the police officers is also better understood, because, “An extremely strong sense of justice permeates Venetian civilization right from its beginnings” (137)...

Du Maurier, Daphne.  Don’t Look Now.  New York: Doubleday & Co., 1971: 1-57.

Daphne du Maurier’s short story deeply influences not only the events in Nicolas Roeg’s film of the same name, but also the themes Roeg explores in the film.  The plots of the story and the film are basically the same, although (obviously) there are scenes in the film, which do not come from du Maurier’s story.  The opening sequence of the film (which shows Christine’s death), for instance, is an invention of the director, Nicolas Roeg.  Du Maurier’s story begins at the café, relegating Christine’s death to the memories of John and Laura.  Surprisingly, the film stays very true to the short story and the added scenes do not deviate from the overall direction of the plot.  The sisters, in the story, are identical twins (although the ‘seeing’ sister is grayer than the other) and remain mysterious characters throughout.  In the film, their paths cross many times with the Baxters (John and Laura) and Laura has many conversations with them.  The female characters, Laura and the sisters, have a much larger role in the film than the short story, which focuses almost entirely on John and his struggles.
The main differences between the film and the short story are the addition of a character, Bishop Barbarrigo, and John’s job restoring the church.  In du Maurier’s story, John and Laura are on vacation in Venice and John’s job is never discussed.  A tertiary result of this is that there is no need for the Bishop character, whose job is to oversee John’s renovation of the church (in the film).  The central role of churches and church figures in the film bring a religious element to the film that is absent in the short story.  The theme of faith (and lack of faith) is therefore also absent.  The film creates a sense of dread using ever-present murders and strange coincidences (such as John’s near death experience on the church scaffolding).  The short story explores the themes of prophecy and ‘second sight,’ but there is not the same eerie sense of uneasiness.  The fact that the film leaves Johnnie’s illness ambiguous (instead of saying it is appendicitis as the short story does) plays into the theme of the supernatural and the occult...

Wilson, Kristi. “Time, Space, and Vision: Nicolas Roeg’s Don’t Look Now.” Screen 40(3) (1999): 277-94.

Wilson is a feminist film critic (she lets the reader know from the start), so her analysis of Don’t Look Now comes from a completely different perspective than other available analyses. She argues that the film represents “failed masculinity” (294), embodied by John Baxter and his failure to prevent his death. John’s failure comes from his inability to interpret space. The first hard evidence of this that Wilson brings up is the book John has written, Fragile Geometry (Laura is reading it in the opening sequence). Wilson argues that the title of the book reflects John’s own failure at understand the “fragile geometry” of time and space. Roeg’s montage, with its questionable linearity, visually represents this “fragile geometry.” Roeg blurs the lines between the real and the unreal and the past, present, and future. Wilson refers to the effect of Roeg’s montage as “slippage,” because Roeg moves between real and unreal, for example, so fluidly, that the audience rarely picks up on it. She articulates the effect of this “slippage” on the audience, when she explains:

All that seems solid where the film is concerned, whether we are referring to Roeg’s visually unconventional presentation of the narrative, or his character’s sense of architectural/geographical control, proves to be illusory. (294)

She argues that the sequence, in which blood appears on John’s slide, “provides a literal example of physical slippage between background and foreground” (290). Wilson sees John as a synecdoche for all men, in his inability to recognize “slippage” (i.e. recognize omens and portents), because all of the women in the film are attuned to the “slippage” and recognize when the unreal world (e.g. the spirit world) enters the real world. I disagree with this assumption, because I don’t see all the women as recognizing the “slippage.” Heather does, because she has the gift of ‘second sight;’ the other women merely believe that she can see the “slippage”...

Based on the short story by Daphne du Maurier, Directed by Nicolas Roeg, Screenplay by Chris Bryant and Allan Scott, Music by Pino Donnagio, Starring Donald Sutherland and Julie Christie