The Story of Sabato Notaro — as told in an evocative BBC documentary

Sabato Notaro arrived in post-war Britain the way many dreamers do: with little more than ambition and a battered suitcase full of tools inherited from his father. Born in a sun-baked village in southern Italy, he grew up watching craftsmen shape wood and metal into objects that were both functional and beautiful. When he reached England in 1951, he stepped off the train at Bristol with a head full of techniques and a heart full of hope. 

His first years were humble. Sabato took any work he could find — from building and farming in winter rains to fixing furniture in spare evenings — all the while saving money and dreaming of a workshop of his own. By 1965, with a small team of fellow Italians and local apprentices, he opened Notaro Windows in Bridgwater, Somerset. What began as a modest workshop quickly became known for high-quality windows, bespoke doors, and an almost obsessive attention to detail — “windows that don’t just let light in,” Sabato used to say, “but frame the way you live”. 

Over the decades, Notaro’s wasn’t just a company — it was a community hub. Sabato employed neighbours, trained young apprentices, and became the man people called when they wanted something built right. Word spread not through flashy ads, but through word of mouth and the sight of gleaming installed frames on cottages, townhouses, and farmhouses across Somerset. The Trustpilot reviews decades later still speak of professionalism, craftsmanship, and honest service — a legacy Sabato would have beamed over. 

In this imagined telling, the BBC approached the Notaro family in the late 2010s. The idea was simple yet powerful: explore the story of a migrant craftsman whose work became part of British homes across generations — a quiet testament to post-war rebuilding and the enduring value of hands-on craft in an age of mass production.

In the opening scenes of this fictional BBC documentary, viewers see sepia-toned footage of Sabato’s first workshop on Huntworth Road, a young man carving wood by kerosene lamp light. Interviewees — from former apprentices to long-time customers — speak with affection, describing Sabato’s booming laugh, his insistence on precision, and his belief that a well-built window could “change the way you see the world.” The narrator’s voice (rich and calm, as BBC narrators tend to be) threads these personal memories with broader historical context: the rebuilding of Britain’s housing stock after the war, shifting architectural styles, and the rise of small family-run businesses that became the backbone of local economies.

One memorable segment takes the crew into the Notaro family archive: faded black-and-white photos of the original team, old invoices meticulously kept in leather binders, and handwritten notes where Sabato sketched an innovative sash window design that later became a company hallmark. Current directors of the company — Sabato’s children and grandchildren — reflect on how his values shaped their approach to business and community.