Parties in the Veneto community of Lockleys

Guest blogger, Remo Berno, who lives in Riese Pio X, recalls the social events he and his family enjoyed in the 1950s and 1960s.
The feature photo shows a party celebrating the confirmation of Robert Berno and John Torresan held in the Berno packing shed, Valetta Road, Kidman Park, 1959.


In my youth in Adelaide, I can recall a routine way of life, a good life with all commodities, all that a young person would want. Nevertheless, days followed one another in much the same way. Obviously, a main part of my life, from 5 to 18 years of age, was spent at school or in activities related to school. First, at Saint Joseph’s Primary School in Flinders Park and after that at Saint Michael’s College Beverly and Henley Beach – lessons, recreation, friends, sport, homework, exams. On weekends and during holiday periods, friends came to our house on Valetta Road as we had plenty of space for our outdoor games.

Berno property, Valetta Road, house and shed in the distance, 1950s.

On our market garden on Valetta Road, there were many places that were great as playgrounds. We had a big open gravel yard in front of the packing shed, where we would play footy or cricket with the boys. The empty half cases were excellent for building fortresses for cowboy or war games. The shed and all the adjacent storage rooms or garages were fantastic for hide and seek games. At that time, I rarely recollect being bored even though with hindsight, it was a very normal routine way of life. School mates became friends of play. Nothing seemed to upset that comfortable way of growing up.

Berno packing shed, with mechanic, Valetta Road, Kidman Park , 1960s.

Towards the end of my teens, I was more frequently asked by Dad to help him in the market garden. He was getting on in his years and I was young and healthy. I suppose it was expected by my parents that I should take a more active role in supporting their work. In Italy, in their hometown, Riese Pio X, in the first part of the last century, boys and girls at a very early age were an active part of the family household and farming. I never relished my chores as a youngster but as I grew up, I appreciated how hard Dad and Mum had worked to give us, their children, a good life, so helping became more spontaneous.

Location of Riese Pio X. https://ng.maptons.com/89991

Sunday was the family day. It was Mass in the morning and in the afternoon, trips to park lands or visits to relatives and friends. Looking back, it was the only time during the week that I spent with all members of my family.

However, there were events that broke the routine – events that I recall with great pleasure. Important non-routine events were the parties. As far back as I remember, parties always meant having fun in a different way. At an early age my first memories were birthday parties at home. Friends met at the home of the celebrated boy or girl with sweets, cakes, soft drinks, and of course, birthday presents. These parties were usually quite small and normally took place in the kitchens of the different homes and in the backyards in fine weather.

Cousins- Robert, Johnny, Remo, Marisa and Diana Berno with friends at a birthday party at the Berno home, c 1961.

As parties grew bigger, the packing sheds of the Veneti market gardeners were the preferred venues. At that time, the parties were connected to special events such as baptisms, confirmations, and weddings. I clearly remember my sister’s confirmation party that was held in our shed. Because there were five children who were confirmed, a larger venue was required for the party.

The photo below was taken outside the Flinders Park Church with Archbishop Gleeson, who celebrated the holy sacrament.  From left to right you see, my father Pietro, his godson and nephew, Angelo Pastro , Diana Maschio (whose grandparents and father migrated from Riese Pio X in Veneto), my mother Antonietta – godmother to both Diana Maschio and Elisa Pastro (her niece), Diana Berno, Archbishop Gleeson, Marisa Berno, Antonietta Baldan, who also migrated from Riese Pio X – godmother to Diana Berno. There is also Clara Santin from  Caselle di Altivole, 5 km from Riese Pio X – godmother to Marisa and on the far right, Maria Maschio, Diana Maschio’s grandmother, also from Riese Pio X.

Confirmees with their sponsors and Archbishop Gleeson, Flinders Park, 1968.

The boys and girls who were confirmed that day – and their godparents  – were all related in some way to each other.

A view of the party for the children who were confirmed with priest, Father Reid. Berno packing shed, 1968.

I can now appreciate how important these occasions were for the Veneto people and especially to the pioneer Veneto market gardeners’ families. In that photo we see my parents Antonietta and Pietro Berno, and also Clara, Romildo Santin’s wife. The market gardeners of these two families migrated to Adelaide in 1920s. The following families: Pastro, Maschio and Baldan had migrated to Adelaide, or better, to Lockleys, in the path paved by the pioneers. In fact, all these families settled in the vicinity of Valetta Road, Frogmore Road and Findon Road.

Socialising meant stronger relationships between the Veneti who had migrated after World War II and the pioneer Veneti. Families like my father’s and those of the Tonellato brothers and sisters or those of the Santin brothers and sisters had been settled in Lockleys for quite some time. Their market gardens were already established activities. They all had an important workplace, the sheds. I imagine that it was quite straightforward for the pioneers to organise these “in house” parties. Each of the pioneer families had its own market garden shed that offered a great location for get-togethers. Food and drinks were not a problem as the produce from their farms was abundant. The new Veneto migrants that arrived after the war had ties to their relations who had already settled in Australia. My father and uncle offered their shed for the newcomers’ events such as weddings or baptisms.

Engagement party of Remo’s cousin, Mary Pastro, Garage of Bruno and Maria Pastro, c 1968.

It was common for my family to attend such parties in our shed but also in those of the Santins, the Tonellatos, and of other Veneti market gardeners’ sheds. At the parties there were children of all ages, so it was never a problem to meet old friends and make new ones, and spend time playing games.

The families of friends and relatives got together away from work and housekeeping, and they spent pleasant hours, probably recalling the sagre paesane (village festivals) that took place in their hometown in Veneto. These sagre paesane in Italy were special occasions where the whole community would come together to celebrate the patron saint of the village. In a similar manner, the families of the Veneto market gardeners came together as a community in Lockleys.

The children would soon play in and around the party location. The women would get together to exchange views on whatever interested them. The men would gather, especially if the party had a bar. Beer would flow and was counted by the kegs. Chatting got louder and louder, and that’s usually when the singing of old Italian songs would break out. The young adults would meet and dance to the music played by the band, a small group of two or three with an accordion, a set of drums and a vocalist. Usually, the band members sang and played Italian favourites that pleased all the participants. On these occasions, it was not unusual for young Italian men who had recently arrived in Adelaide, to show special attention towards young second-generation women in the attempt to find their new partners in life.

View of a typical wedding reception of a couple from the Veneto region, c 1957. Note: Robert Berno, in white shoes, looking towards the camera on the right in front of the bridal table.

I remember one epic wedding party that took place at Centennial Hall in Wayville with over a thousand guests with a many storeyed wedding cake. We the youngsters, were everywhere, playing and having fun. There was so much to do, and our parents were too busy partying, so we had fewer restrictions than usual. In these very big parties, I would make meet other boys my age who were new to me. Some new acquaintances became my friends. At a latter age the parties became occasions to meet young girls with a different attitude to friendship. Everything connected to the parties was so exciting, and a break in my routine.

I still fondly remember these events of more than 50 years ago and they remain one of the many pleasant aspects of my youth in Adelaide. I was young and took them for granted as a normal way of socialising with the other Veneti. I probably never even thought about the fact that most people at these parties were somehow related and had in common, their origins. I was born in a big capital city with an extended territory and an important population. Looking back, I see how many parties that were held in the sheds belonging to the Veneto market gardeners. It was a time where these families that had migrated from small rural villages in Veneto would come together. The population of these small Italian towns in the early 20th century was only a few thousand people and their lives were celebrated in a small area around their homes.

The ‘new Australians’ had migrated to a major city, Adelaide, in a new and young nation, Australia, and had to integrate into the new world, hardly speaking English, if none at all. It certainly was an important step up in life for them.

Group of young Veneto men who arrived after WW2 with young Robert Berno, outside the Berno house, Valetta Road, c 1952. Photo, courtesy, Maria Mazzarolo nee Compostella.

These parties were binding events for the migrants, exchanging friendship and guidance, that helped them face the challenges of settling down in the new nation. Parties were important occasions to meet other similar Veneti and feel the comfort of being part of a community where fellow migrants, that had already settled and had reached a comfortable economic status, could give them the attention needed.

Remo Berno
16 July 2023

All photos, except the last one, provided by the Berno family.


You can listen to Remo’s interview and read the transcript on the website. Go to the Berno page and find the ‘Interview’ and ‘Transcript’ buttons: https://venetimarketgardeners1927.net/1927-pioneer-families/berno-family/

 

 

My Italian-Australian Experience

Guest blogger, Vivian Miotto writes about her life as a woman who was born in Adelaide and has lived in Italy since 1969. She reflects on the question of identity.

My name is Viviana Miotto but relatives and friends call me Vivian.

My parents, Antonio and Dora (Gina) Miotto nee Corrado, migrated from Italy to Australia in the early 1950s after the II World War. I am the first of three children and we were all born in Adelaide.

Vivan Miotto, flower girl for the wedding of Anna Maria Vettorello and Angelo Lucchesi, Adelaide, 1959. Photo supplied by Anna Maria Lucchesi.
Rosa Tormena, Vivian, Gina Miotto. Vivian’s first holy communion, St Joseph’s church, Lower North Adelaide, 1962. Photo suplied by Anna Maria Lucchesi.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After nearly 20 years in the land down under my parents decided it was time to return to their homeland as all their siblings lived in the area of Valdobbiadene and Vidor, in the province of Treviso in Veneto.

Map of the Veneto region with Bigolino identified. www.mapsofworld.com

At that time, I was 14 years old and found it quite difficult to have to leave the country of my birth, my friends, and the Australian lifestyle. I tried to imagine what my future life would be like in Italy, but I had no idea! I only knew it was going to be very different as I could not speak nor write in Italian very well. Moreover, I didn’t know anyone in Italy, my relatives included, I had never met them and had only seen some of them in photos. My two brothers, Maurizio and Riccardo, are 9 and 7 years younger than me, so they didn’t really think much about what was happening.

Then the day came when our departure by ship from Port Adelaide arrived, all our friends were there to say goodbye, it was very emotional; I felt very upset having to leave everyone I had grown up with during my childhood and whom I felt very close to. Because of the distance between the two countries, I thought I would never see those friends again! It was a terrible feeling! Fortunately, later, as years went by, some of them came to Italy on holiday and with great joy, we met up several times again!

When we arrived in Italy, it was a very foggy winter morning in January. We disembarked from the ship in Genoa, Liguria, where two of my uncles came to meet us. That was my first contact in Italy. We travelled all the way to our new home by car in the fog and it was certainly a hard trip, especially for one of my uncles who drove all the way (about 450 km)!

A view of the entrance to Bigolino. Photo supplied by Vivian Miotto.

We reached Bigolino and finally settled down there. Bigolino is a small village of about 1,500 inhabitants beside the River Piave. It was an enormous change for me comparing it to the suburb of North Adelaide where we used to live, but everyone welcomed us very warmly. This made me feel more comfortable. Our new neighbours had had a similar experience in Canada, so there was immediate contact between our two families.

Aerial view of Bigolino, with the River Piave in the background, date unknown. Photo supplied by Maria Rosa Tormena.

However, my strongest challenge was the Italian language; the Italian school system in those days couldn’t accept my school enrolment because of my lack of command of the language. I recall the difficulty I had in expressing myself in Italian when I arrived and the frustration and loneliness I felt as a result when I couldn’t explain things properly.  I had to study hard and try to sit for a Primary School exam and a second year Middle School exam in six months (the Italian school system is quite different from the Australian one).

Fortunately, I passed both exams and in October I could enrol in the third year of Middle School. This allowed me to go to high school and later continue my studies at University. I must say I was lucky to meet very good teachers along the way who encouraged me to improve my knowledge of the Italian language and become more fluent. I also met some wonderful classmates who helped me to improve my Italian and who I am still in touch with ever since.

https://mapcarta.com/18709742

It took me a couple of years to learn all about living the Italian way, but once I got more familiar with it, I started to appreciate it.

A view of the piazza at Bigolino. Photo supplied by Vivian Miotto.

It was then the first time that I had to come to terms with the lack of sense of belonging. I started to question my identity and who I really was because I was not quite Italian and yet I certainly didn’t identify with being Australian. I had this internal debate with myself for many years and it has been renewed at various stages of my life. However, later  I decided that I could live comfortably with the fact that I am an Italian and also an Australian, but more Italian than Australian. I adore everything which is Italian such as culture, people, art, literature, and food. It is hard to explain as it is such a personal perception of the way I live it.

Riccardo, Vivian, Maurizio Miotto, outside the church at Castelli di Monfumo, Veneto. Taken on the day of Riccardo’s wedding, 2004. Photo supplied by Vivian Miotto.

 

 

This experience has provided me with so many opportunities and I love the fact that I am bilingual. Today I am so thankful to my parents for having done their best by providing me with a set of beliefs and values and helping me build intercultural respect and understanding.

 

Vivian Miotto
2 July 2023

Veneto women on the mica mines

In the photo above, Serafina and Attilio De Pieri hold their children, Freddy and Adelina, in a group with a visiting priest, Billy Hughes mica mine, 1945.

In a blog in 2019, I wrote about the Veneto market gardener men who lived and worked on the mica mines in the Northern Territory in the Harts Ranges about 215 kilometres north-east of Alice Springs. These men included Angelo and Attilio Piovesan, Gelindo Rossetto and his brothers, Angelo and Beppi.

Women in the mica mine camps

Serafina De Pieri, changing camp from Billy Hughes to Caruso camp, 5 December 1940. (Boards stacked to make cases to transport mica) Photo, courtesy, Adelina Pavan nee De Pieri.

In this blog I focus on the Veneto women who embarked on a dramatic adventure joining their husbands in the remote desert country where the mica mines were located without the comforts of electricity and adequate water and where they lived in makeshift accommodation. One of the earliest Veneto women in the mica mines was Serafina De Pieri who was featured in a 2022 blog. Serafina became well known in the Veneto community in Adelaide because of her significant role on the Social Committee of the Veneto Club in the late 1970s and early 1980s.

Adelina De Pieri, organising an event at the Veneto Club, early 1980s. Photo, courtesy, Adelina Pavan nee De Pieri.

 

 

 

 

 

Research about the mica mines*
In 1995, David Hugo wrote a thesis about migrant people who worked on the mica mines at Harts Ranges. His research showed that most of the miners were Italian and many post-war migrants went to the mines attracted by relatives or paesani who had reported the adventure and good income from mining mica.

As part of his research, David Hugo recorded oral history interviews with several women and men who had lived and worked on the mines from the 1930s to the 1950s. His research showed that women played a vital role in the camps often working with men. In their oral history interviews, people had spoken about the close interaction with Aboriginal people who helped with different tasks in the camps and provided their local knowledge about terrain, water and conditions of desert life.

Women’s memories of the mica mines
David Hugo wrote about the perceptions of women who lived on the mines which differed from those of the men. The women he interviewed included: Serafina De Pieri, Teresa Fadelli, Italia Floreani, Antonietta Mamone and Mary Rigoni. He speaks about their accounts:

They tended to present a fuller picture of mica mining as a way of life rather than concentrating on the specifics. They told of the difficulties of raising families and undertaking all housekeeping, at the same time as working alongside their husbands and fathers. They performed such tasks as trimming, cutting and grading the mica; and, in some cases, were expected to even do the work of the men underground. They related moments of sorrow following miscarriages; of having to go back to the mining camps against medical advice; and of the sadness felt when leaving very young children in Alice Springs to be cared for and educated by the Church … it is clear from the transcripts that the women showed humour, courage and strength in dealing with the hardships … Above all, there emanated an inescapable commitment to family, friends,
and to a better life.
(p 224)

Serafina De Pieri nee Corletto
The story of Serafina offers an insight into the life of a young woman who arrived in Australia in 1939 as a new bride, aged 20 years old. Her husband, Attilio, had worked in a mica mine for several years before the couple married in Italy and went to live at Harts Ranges.

Roberto & Diana Del Tedesco, Freddy and Adelina De Pieri, mica sheets, Billy Hughes mine, c 1945/46. Photo, courtesy, Adelina Pavan nee De Pieri.

 

Serafina lived at the mine until 1942 when she and Attilio moved to Adelaide where their first two children, Adelina and Fred were born. The family went back to the mine in 1945 for three years and then they returned to Adelaide. The youngest child, Roberto, was born in 1950.

 

Everyday life of women in the camps
Women prepared the food for their own families and also for single men if they lived in the camps. The diet combined tinned meat and vegetables bought on the visits to Alice Springs every three or four months when the miners sold their mica to the Commonwealth Mica Buyer.  Other food, like pasta and dried fish, came from Italian grocers in Adelaide. Serafina De Pieri recalled that after a bore was sunk at the Billy Hughes mine where she lived with her husband for some time, they were able to grow lettuce, beans, peas, cauliflowers, cabbages and even watermelons. They had to protect the plants from kangaroos and goats. The men ordered large barrels of wine from Patritti Wines in Adelaide and bottled it in the camps.

Diana Del Tedesco, Freddy and Adelina De Pieri, Billy Hughes mine, 1948. Photo, courtesy, Adelina Pavan nee De Pieri.

People in the camps kept herds of goats which were for milk and meat.  Serafina recalled that they experimented with cooking wild life even galahs, “Yeah, we try eating them once, the young one, but it’s not much good.” Serafina also spoke about preparing kangaroo for meals . . . “the tail, we make a beautiful soup. The leg, you make a beautiful chop, or cutlet … with the flour and eggs.”

Post World War II Veneto migrants
In their oral history interviews, a number of people in the Veneto market gardeners’ project spoke about their own experience or about their father’s life and work on the mica mines. The two following descriptions provide images of what it was like to be a woman living in a mining camp in remote desert country.

Armida Mattiazzo arrives in 1952
Armida Biasetto arrived in Australia in 1952, aged 24 years. Soon after she married her fiancé, Augusto Mattiazzo, in Melbourne, they went to live and work at the ‘Last Chance’ mica mine in the Harts Ranges. Augusto had already worked there for some time with other Veneto men.

Augusto & Armida Mattiazzo-Last Chance mine, c 1952. Photo, courtesy Armida Mattiazzo nee Biasetto.

In 2016 Armida was interviewed by Eleonora Marchioro and recalled her early years  in Australia and the mica mine:

When I arrived in Alice Springs, for me it was a big thing especially the trip to get to Alice Springs, it took eight hours in those times with a plane … we had to stop three or four times. When we arrived in Alice Springs we went to friends and we stayed there for two or three days and then we left with a jeep and went to the [mine] and it took 11 or 12 hours and I arrived and I was in the desert … there was no bitumen roads. They were tracks made by people driving up and down with trucks. I was never desperate, I always liked it but I was young and I had a young husband.

I had a good life there… there was nothing to clean because [laughs] there was dust everywhere… I was the only woman, and at night they used to prepare the yeast for the bread and after in the morning they used to go up to the mine…

Armida Mattiazzo nee Biasetto – with newly baked bread, Last Chance mine- c 1953. Photo courtesy, Armida Mattiazzo.

And I used to stay down at the camp and I used to get the bread which was baked underground. It used to take an hour and the bread would be ready. At ten in the morning, I used to bring them tea and I used to make little cakes because I knew my husband liked them. I used to bring this for the friends and they came down for lunch at 12.00…  And at night, it was always a party.

I stayed four years but my husband was there for seven years.

(Armida Mattiazzo nee Biasetto, OH 872/112, 1 December 2016, pp 3, 4, 5)

Armida & Denny Mattiazzo-Last Chance mine, c 1954. Photo, courtesy Armida Mattiazzo nee Biasetto.

 

 

After a difficult birth in the Alice Springs hospital, Armida’s first baby died. Armida and Augusto’s son, Denny, was born in 1954 before the couple decided to live in Adelaide where their daughter, Adelina, was born in 1956.

 

 

 

Bruna Rossetto nee Battaglia moves to the mica mine
Bruna had arrived in Australia in 1939 and after she married Giuseppe (Beppi) Rossetto in 1943, they had three children, Val, Allan and Denis, and for some time Giuseppe worked in the Spotted Tiger mica mine with his brother, Gelindo Rossetto. In the following extract, Bruna explains that she decided to go and live with Beppi on the mine in about 1951:

Denis and Alan, sons of Bruna and Beppi Rossetto and a friend’s child, Spotted tiger, c 1952. Photo courtesy, Bruna Rossetto  nee Battaglia.

I was there living Liverpool Street with my three children, trying to work and go and help a little bit in the factory and I was, I been working all the time, but then after I started to feel lonely for him. I didn’t like the idea just being by myself with the kids there, I wanted to go up in the mine. He didn’t want me to. He said, ‘It’s not a life for you up there with the kids, it’s not a life,’…

 

Bruna Rossetto, hanging out the washing, Spotted Tiger mine, c 1952. Photo, courtesy, Bruna Rossetto nee Battaglia.

 

Val was about six years old when she went to the convent in Alice Springs, she was a boarder there, and I took my two boys in the Spotted Tiger Mine … I stay there for two, three years. I cooked for 12 men and had kids to look after.

(Bruna Rossetto nee Battaglia, OH 872/33, 18 December 2014, pp 4-5, 18)

 

The accounts of their lives in the mica mines reflect the strength and resilience of the Veneto women who took on new roles in unfamiliar circumstances in the Australian desert. They created family life without the social supports they might have had in their village in the Veneto region or that they might have found in Adelaide. They lived without the comfort of amenities and managed their daily lives in basic conditions. Indeed, they showed courage and commitment to their new life.

Madeleine Regan
18 June 2023.


*Thesis, “Mica Mining at Harts Range Central Australia, 1880s – 1960: A Study of Ethnicity and the Impact of Isolation,” by David Frederick Hugo.

You can access the thesis here: https://ris.cdu.edu.au/ws/portalfiles/portal/23680670/Thesis_CDU_6115_Hugo_D.pdf

 

 

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