1946 On June 27, Tony Melocco died. He had been unwell for many years, suffering from what, at the time, was described as a variant of Parkinson’s Disease. His contribution to the firm and to the decorative arts in Australia had been immense. He had brought his knowledge of the finest mosaic art in Europe to Australia and he had painstakingly reinvented the ancient craft of scagliola. He was a skilled and disciplined craftsman who showed, by example, the high standard he expected of those who worked alongside him. His loss to Melocco Brothers, to those who worked with him and knew him was enormous.

“He was a quiet man and very gentle. He never raised his voice. Like Galli and Peter, he was dedicated to his work to the point where we really didn’t spend a great deal of time with him.”

— Lena Hannam

“He used to get up early and go down to the factory — he was gone by the time I got up. He came home for dinner and then, every night, he went across the road to see his mother, Nonna.”

— Albert Melocco

“He worked six days a week. Occasionally, on the seventh day, he would take us for a drive or to the beach.”

— Lena Hannam

“Or Mum would say Dad had gone to church so we would race down to the factory and fossick around. Dad didn’t want me going down to the factory.”

— Albert Melocco

“He was quiet and he was a dignified chap. He and Aunty Victoria made a very elegant couple. They looked much like they’d popped up from a page of Queen Victoria’s scrap book. The most important thing about Uncle Tony, though, was his skill. You know, Frank Colussi told me just the other day that he can still walk over the mosaic at the entrance to the old Mark Foys building and identify the bits that Tony did because they’re so much better than the rest.”

— John Melocco

“A Friuli man is born with a trowel in his hand.”