Stone Carver. the Life and Times of Franco Vallario’

By David Prior

The manuscript is essentially about Franco Vallario’s life as a carver sculptor and stonemason. Franco originates from multi generations of carvers from the small Italian village of St Andrea di Conza high up in the mountainous regions of central Italy. From very humble and spartan conditions Franco learns his trade from observation, trial and error as he discovers in his early life what he really wants to do. That is to carve a permanent reminder of his creative genius out of stone wherever possible. But first he must experience other avenues that appeal to him and joins the navy and the priesthood. These occupations do not satisfy his creative desires and so he opts to emigrate to Australia. In doing so he is following in the footsteps of many other Italian men form poor backgrounds who have a once in a lifetime opportunity to escape a life of poverty by taking advantage of the Australian government’s immigration scheme in the 1950’s. After working for successful entrepreneurs he is placed in charge of a team of stone masons to restore the gargoyles and bosses on Sydney University’s historic gothic building. As he is not being paid for his talents he secures and completes his most challenging and exciting project independently in craving the capitals for the Mitchell Library. This is something none of the previous Vallario carvers have ever achieved! He is inundated with request from the Australian media to be interviewed and as he is now successful decides to open his own business which he pursues with vigour. In doing so he abandons working in stone and starts creating in marble. In that endeavour he seeks the best quality marble overseas particularly from the quarries where Michelangelo sourced his material , at Carrara. He travels overseas extensively for his clients, many of whom are well known or famous identities in Australia. As he comes to the end of his career he sees his adopted country as having provided him with every opportunity to succeed as a carver and sculptor.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Oct 18, 2022
• ISBN: 9781669831860

Book preview

Stone Carver.

The life and times of Franco Vallario’

David Prior

Copyright © 2022 by David Prior. 844852

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Xlibris

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AU Local: 02 8310 8187 ([phone] from outside Australia)

www.xlibris.com.au

Library of Congress Control Number:22916952

Rev. date: 11/29/2022

CONTENTS

Chapter 1 A Humble Introduction

Chapter 2 Seismic Beginnings

Chapter 3 A Lucky Break

Chapter 4 Gargoyles, Bosses, and Other Adornments

Chapter 5 The Library Capitals

Chapter 6 A Business All of His Own

Chapter 7 Carrara and Colourful Characters Calling

Chapter 8 Travelling to Tenterfield

Chapter 9 The Carver’s Other Overseas Adventures

Chapter 10 Carving for God

Chapter 11 Time to Hang Up the Mallet

Addendum: Franco’s Italian Proverbs

The Carver from Campania

The Life and Times of Franco Vallario

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CHAPTER 1

A Humble Introduction

Many years ago, I purchased an antique federation bathroom dresser which included an impressive red marble top. Unfortunately, when I was moving into a new home in 2010, the marble top shattered into pieces. It remained in our garage for a number of years and collected a lot of dust. Then while cleaning out that part of our home, I decided to get it fixed. But I had no idea how to go about it. With a bit of prompting from my partner, I searched long and hard until I found that a company called Precision Marble had a granite and marble supply business located not far from our home in the Sydney suburb of Hornsby. I had difficulty finding where the company was located as it was down a back street near the railway line some distance back from that road sandwiched between several galvanised iron and tin factory premises. I was able to locate the business when I observed a simple black-and-white sign reading ‘Marblework’. Close by was a curious piece of marble, which at the time seemed similar to those that professionals such as doctors and lawyers use, embossed with one word – ‘Vallario’ – on it.

I made my way to the door and walked in slowly. Nobody appeared to be there. The room was dark and, although it was difficult to get a clear view, was full of what appeared to be a number of items of industrial equipment and benchtops together with pieces of marble in various forms stacked around the premises’ perimeter. On further inspection, it appeared that much of what was there was covered in some kind of white and grey dust. I looked up to observe some wooden stairs leading up to what appeared to be an office area situated over the factory floor which was illuminated. I heard a voice calling out to me. Suddenly a man burst out from a doorway and strode briskly down the staircase. He introduced himself as Franco. We went outside, and I opened the boot of my car to show him the broken red marble top. He immediately told me it was not possible to repair it, which was a disappointment to me. Notwithstanding that, he took me inside his factory premises again and pointed towards a white sheet of marble with grey markings through it and explained in an accent that I did not recognise at first, ‘This is what you need. It is excellent marble. I will cut it for you.’

When I returned to collect the marble top some weeks later and, as I entered the factory, I noticed there was no evidence of any protective equipment in and about the premises. After greeting Franco, I inquired of him about that fact. He replied: ‘No need to wear any masks as marble dust is good for you as it does not contain much silica. It’s heaven. It helps cure illnesses. I cut vanity tops with a grinder. Lots of dust . . . no problem.’

After he produced the final white marble top that he had prepared for me, he informed me that the marble originated from Carrara. I found this an astonishing thing to say but later found out that to some extent he was correct.¹ As he was a man in his dotage and appeared to be in excellent health, who was I to suggest otherwise?

I enquired, ‘You mean Carrara in Queensland?’

He replied, ‘No, the famous Carrara in Italy. That’s where I come from. That is where the great Michelangelo sourced his marble from.’

As an art lover and historian, I was particularly interested in this development.

He then explained to me that in 1972 or so, he received a phone call from a Malouf Building Company director² inquiring of him whether he might be interested in creating and carving some vanity tops similar to the unique models that were installed in Australia Square in the Sydney CBD. At that time, he did not possess the specialised equipment required that would reduce the amount of dust that would emanate from the work he would have to undertake, but he accepted the challenge. This was because he was aware he had white Carrara marble supplied by a well-known Italian factory in Italy. He proceeded to carve and cut the marble vanity into an oval shape with other rounded edges on its reverse side, but a significant amount of marble dust filled the air in and around his factory. Unfortunately, one of his tradesmen, who had an axe to grind against him, surreptitiously and secretly reported him to the New South Wales Health Department who arranged for one of their inspectors to arrive at the premises unannounced.

Franco was surprised to receive the visitor.

After initial exchanges, the following conversation took place:

Franco: ‘There is no problem here. Since the era of M. Buonarroti, carvers in Italy have been cutting and carving marble by way of a dry method, and the dust that has come from their work has never caused any health problems whatsoever. I do not understand what the problem is here.’

Inspector: ‘Mr Vallario, thank you for your comments, but we are not in Italy. I will have to monitor the effect of the dust. So I want you to put this machine around your neck for five days to see what happens as we cannot ignore this problem.’

Two weeks later, the inspector returned and informed Franco that there was no adverse outcome, and he was satisfied with the state and condition under which Franco created his sculptures, marble, and stonework. Later he received a certificate from the department confirming that fact. He was very relieved, but it reinforced his belief that marble dust was in no way toxic.

Over the next two years, we had a number of conversations about his life in Italy and Australia. He informed me that he was by trade a multi-generational carver³ of marble and stone; and his family going back many centuries, including his father, grandfather, and brothers, had all been in the trade. The family had been based for generations in the village known as Sant’Andrea di Conza in the Campania region of Italy. This is where his father had carved numerous edifices, particularly memorials and crypts for reasonably wealthy families living in that region. Apparently, the father had achieved some fame and success in southern Italy and New York but with little profit to show from these activities. Franco told me he had been fortunate in that his elder brother Pasquale had arrived in Australia on an ‘assisted passage’ arrangement during the 1950s and had befriended a well-known Australian industrialist who later had been prepared to help Franco as well, but more on that below.

Franco informed me that one thing led to another, and virtually with no money whatsoever, Franco reached Australia in the Roma vessel docking in Sydney in 1958 with the hope and promise of a career as a marble and stone carver in a new country. In doing so and with little knowledge of English, he had to learn quickly in order to survive and succeed. Over the next sixty years, Franco became well-known as an excellent carver on both public and private projects from Canberra to Sydney and interstate and was highly regarded in the carving fraternity. He was particularly passionate and proud about the fact that he had sourced much of his better marble from the mountain range that sits above the town of Carrara. He had travelled there on numerous occasions when he was a younger man. Subsequently he had visited the relevant marble miners there and selected and purchased various-sized blocks of the best stone he could afford. He then had arranged for it to be transported back to Australia and delivered to his factory.

Now he was coming to the end of his working life as he was in his late eighties but started letting me know bit by bit about his career in the marble and stone industry and some of the experiences he had and the people he had been involved with over the years. This book is mainly about Franco’s life and that of his family, including his father. At times it also deals with all of those places and spaces that touched Franco’s life while developing into a great carver. In addition, it refers to those circumstances whereby young Italian men and other migrants, who often led difficult and hard lives back in Italy, were given the chance to thrive in a country at the other end of the globe through what was then known as the assisted migration program and where many of those men faced other difficulties before achieving success. Further, it focuses partly on the quality and nature of stone and marble in its many forms that Franco used in his carvings and the edifices and structures that he utilised to display the full range of his creative powers in Australia for the benefit of the community at large.

Asked by a journalist from a Sydney publisher in 1984 what carving marble entailed and he replied with one word: creativity.⁴

This is a biographical history of Franco Vallario and