A Son of Bathurst
Below: A selection of Hector’s unique, hand-made piano tools.
Left to right: String stretcher, back check bending pliers, hammer felt clamp, centre pin pliers, key easing pliers,
hammer head remover, extendable tuning hammer (C.H. Lang & Co., Chicago).
Horizontal top: spirit casting lamp.
In memory of Marie Yvonne Gardiner, née Lupp (1940-1996),
without whose dedication to our family the realisation of this
exhibition would have been immeasurably more difficult.
A Son of Bathurst
T
he exhibition, Hector Lupp – A Son of
Bathurst, and this companion catalogue
celebrate the 100th birthday of Hector Lupp
(1908-1989), a well known musician and
sportsman who lived and worked in Bathurst
all his life. Through his passion for music he
contributed much to the city; teaching piano
for many years during the Depression and
being active for over sixty years in amateur
theatrical productions.
In the 1930s Hector played for the Children’s
Session on Radio 2BS and after the war had
a regular musical show, The Diggers’ Hour,
broadcast from the RSL Club. On 6 Oct. 1937
he became Bathurst’s first official Carillonist,
a position he held until 1945. For many years
he serviced the pianos for the Eisteddfod, the
City Hall and most of the local educational
institutions. In an age before television and
computers virtually every
home had a piano and
few people in the district
did not know Hector,
‘The Piano Man’.
Hector’s mother, Leonora Marie Aloysius
Vistarini, known as Marmee, was born in
Goondiwindi on 9 November 1887 and died
in Bathurst on 7 December 1988, aged 101.
There were three Hectors in Marmee’s life:
her father, her brother and her elder son.
Her father, Hector Vistarini, an Australian of
Italian descent, was a surveyor and, according
to family lore, was killed by bushrangers in
Queensland. Her English mother, Elizabeth
Vistarini (née Robinson), died giving birth to
a second daughter who also did not survive.
Leonora lost the last member of her family
when her young brother, Hector, was killed
at Gallipoli on the 10 June 1915 at the age
of twenty-seven.
Leonora was raised by her Milanese
grandparents in Melbourne. She joined the
Salvation Army when she was seventeen
and was posted to Broken Hill, a move
which eventually brought her to Bathurst
in August 1905 where, three years later, she
married Louis Lupp.
1
Despite the tragedies of her early life, Marmee
remained a free spirit. Once, when Charles
Kingsford Smith was touring the country
raising funds, the family went to watch as
Smithy took people up for joyrides. Suddenly
Marmee turned to her son and said, ‘Quickly,
give me ten shillings’. Ignoring her husband’s
protests, she took the money and was gone
– up, up and away.
Hector’s father, Louis Lupp (1877-1940), was
born in Tuena. He had four brothers; Sam,
The Lupp
family, c.1913,
Leonora and
Louis with
baby Leonora
and Hector on
the tricycle.
Louis Lupp, seated in
centre, as bandmaster
of the City Model
Band. Hector, aged
fifteen, is in the back
row, far right.
Photograph 1924.
Joseph, Jack and Charlie. Their father, John
Lupp (b 1844) had come to Australia from
Canton, via the small village of Tai Ho Chung
near Hong Kong. A market gardener, he was
and also a bandmaster with the Salvation
Army in Bathurst. His wife, Hannah Sibraa
(1851-1904), an Australian, was born in Yass.
After his wife died John Lupp returned alone
to China.
Jack Lupp went to Wellington, New Zealand
and Charlie, a fine euphonium player, moved
to Geraldton, Western Australia in 1898, while
Louis, Sam and Joseph remained in Bathurst.
Hector recalled how, as children, he and
his sister used to build castles with the gold
sovereigns Uncle Joseph, a bookmaker, carried
in his Gladstone bag – along with a pistol.
As a schoolboy, Louis Lupp started work
at Webb’s Emporium in George Street,
where, because of his natural affinity with
animals, he tended the horses while customers
were in the store. Louis remained with the
2
company for forty years, eventually becoming
a floor manager.
Louis was a fine clarinettist and, like his father
John and brothers Jack and Charlie, was also
a bandmaster, forming the City Model Band
which became the great rival of the Bathurst
District Band. Stirred by the sound of all this
brass, young Hector’s musical talents awoke,
then flourished. He remembered marching as
a side drummer on the night of the signing of
the Armistice, 11 November 1918.
My father -Hector Lupp
S
ome time ago a friend suggested holding
an exhibition to commemorate the 100th
birthday of my father. Now, six years later and
on the eve of that birthday, 28 December 2008,
that exhibition has come to fruition, but not
without a bit of digging and delving – and the
generous help of friends who knew Hector.
Because Hec was well known throughout the
Bathurst region in music and in sport, I felt
that various family stories, unknown to most
people, may portray something new about his
character and, in particular, his unique sense
of humour.
Dad’s response to the vagaries of life was often
dry, ironic, frequently self-deprecating and
irresistibly mischievous. The stoic acceptance
of a life that was at times exceedingly difficult
for Dad, and our mother Marie, may reflect
the Chinese side of his family but no doubt
his passion and readiness to laugh come from
the Italian. The exhibition of photographs and
memorabilia pays tribute to a life well lived.
Music was always central to our family. My
Cantonese great-grandfather, John Lupp (born
1844), was a Salvation Army bandmaster in
Bathurst in the 1890s and his son, Louis Lupp
(1877-1940), a fine clarinetist, had been a drum
major in Bathurst as early as 1905. A photograph
from 1924 shows Louis as bandmaster of the City
Model Band, which he had formed from two
earlier Bathurst bands; the City and the Model
Bands. In the back row is Hector, aged fifteen.
At age 10 he played the triangle in local theatrical
productions. Now, in his father’s band, with
ALCM (Associate, London College of Music)
after his name, later LLCM, he had graduated
to euphonium and side drum. During World
War II Hector played in both the band and the
orchestra of the Royal Australian Air Force.
3
Hector as a boy, c.1910
into solid wood. A series of pins can then be
‘tuned’. Dad had discovered this trick at high
school and had shown his classmates how to
‘play’ the pins he had driven into various desks
around the room. One morning, as the music
teacher arrived, a faint delicate arrangement
of Waltzing Matilda could be heard in the
orchestrated hush. As the last ping died away,
the teacher, with barely concealed delight,
simply said, ‘Lupp, get outside’.
Marie Grace Davis (1915-72) c.1932.
Hector met Marie through music.
Marie worked at the music shop of J.J. Cahill
and Hector recalled how they first met during
the 1933 production of Sally and were married
on 23 May 1936, during Floradora. Marie
was in the chorus and Hector the orchestra.
Later in life Marie suffered with
severe rheumatoid arthritis.
Marie’s father, Edwin Davis (1885-1962), of
Welsh and Scottish extraction, was
a railway employee at Bathurst.
He became stationmaster at Lithgow, Mudgee
and Hurstville, and was offered Central
Station but chose to retire.
Marie’s mother, Jesse Rosetta Douglas
(1890-1967), was a descendent of Charles Peet
and Hannah Mullens who arrived
on the First Fleet in 1788.
Hector’s exploits at school were not always so
considered. On one occasion, for a dare, he rode
his bike along the top of one of the spans that
form what was then the busy Denison Bridge.
In those days the river, thirty feet below, was
fifteen feet deep.
At age seventeen,
Hector with five medals and licentiate in
piano from the London College of Music.
Hector’s sister, Leonora (1911-2002) was also
musical. In 1935 she married Cecil Holmes,
son of the Anglican Dean of Bathurst, and
settled in Sydney to pursue what became a
successful operatic career with the theatrical
company, J. C. Williamsons Ltd. After the
war she spent a year in Japan entertaining the
occupying forces.
Dad’s musical ability showed at a very early
age and one tale tells of the keen ear that
eventually led him to music and piano tuning.
He once demonstrated to me how a note can be
produced by plucking a pin that had been driven
4
Another favourite haunt for Hec and his mates
was the town common, an area of unspoilt bush
just north of the cemetery. An old watercourse
provided an excellent source of the wellrounded stones preferred by school-kids for
their catapults. This was long before these lethal
weapons were banned and every kid of the day
had one. Young Hector was a crack shot.
On one particular day the boys were busy
collecting ammunition when a stone suddenly
whistled into their midst. From behind a tree,
fifty yards away, one of their rivals had let
loose a challenge. They’d been caught in the
open and, in the vernacular, shanghaied. Every
time Hector’s side returned fire the boy simply
took cover. This went on for a while until Hec
paused, took careful aim and let fly at nothing –
at which moment the unfortunate lad decided
to stick his head out. Such a talent could not
be wasted and Hector went on to become an
excellent clay pigeon shot.
Anyone not familiar with the reconditioning
of pianos could not know of the extreme
tedium involved in repairing these delicate
and temperamental instruments. One constant
problem is that the tiny felt bushings that allow
repeated movement in the piano’s action are
eventually eaten out by moths and silverfish.
The necessary re-felting and subsequent
readjusting of the piano is a mind numbing
task. With great precision each procedure has
to be repeated for all 88 keys, and there are no
shorts cuts.
The rigours of this work took its toll. What we
now like to think of as ‘work related stress’ Dad
knew better as ‘the white ants’. The only proven
remedy was a day in the bush. Of course Hec’s
passion for music, shared mostly with my sister
Bev, brought great fulfilment, but I will never
forget the excitement he and I felt whenever
we snuck off to a stream or went looking for
foxes. No doubt it is to these furtive escapades
that I owe a lifelong love of the bush.
Anyone who met Hector would soon hear
about his extreme dislike of smoking. To family
and friends it was a source of quiet amusement,
but for Hector smokers were fair game. Once
he was out with his brother Lou whistling
foxes on The Brothers, those distinctive hills
on the road to Trunkey. At the time Lou, a
lifelong heavy smoker, was going through his
pipe smoking phase. They stopped for lunch
and as Lou went off to fill the billy, Hec
quickly crumbled some dried cow dung in with
Lou’s tobacco. Eventually Lou reached for his
pipe. Nothing like a good smoke in the bush
after lunch. Lou never did learn the truth but,
even years later, tears would flow whenever
Dad told the story.
From 1942 to 1945 Hector served in the air
Force. He played in both the band and orchestra
of the RAAF.
On Burrinjuck Dam, NSW, 1956. After two
weeks fishing and shooting, Graham, on right,
had a great time but caught no fish and with the
.22 Remington hit nothing but dead trees.
Two days before my father died I took him back
to a place we loved like no other – the Bridle
Track. Dad was too ill to stand, so we sat in
the car munching Scotch Fingers and sharing a
thermos of coffee. Opposite was an impossibly
steep hill and along its western flank cypress
pines and kurrajongs caught the dying sun.
After a silence Dad said wistfully ‘You know,
boy, once I could have run up there’. Knowing
what he meant but too pained to reply I could
only mumble ‘and once, so could I’. We both
laughed. I was only forty-two and supposedly
fit. I dearly miss our days in the bush. Those
were untrammelled times of ‘being in the
moment’ and sharing absolute peace.
Hector’s love of sport and competition was such
that sometime in his early sixties he took up the
tough game of squash. In 1978, at the age of
seventy, he suffered a heart attack after playing
a friend half his age. Sadly, over the next ten
years, this led to further attacks and a state of
chronic angina.
5
About a month before the 1989 Bathurst Show,
Hector was down at the Showground chatting
with his old friend, Alf Latham, the Pavilion
Superintendent at the time. As Hec walked
away Alf called, ‘See you in four weeks’. Hec
turned and said quietly, ‘Alf, I don’t think I’m
going to make it’. A few days later, on the tenth
of March, he died peacefully in his sleep.
As the Show drew near we found his space was
still booked and we had a house full of pianos.
The family agreed that to put up his display
one last time would be a fitting farewell. With
the help of brother-in-law, Bob Gardiner, my
late sister Yvonne and I made all the necessary
arrangements. The old stand was put up and
given a coat of paint, all Hec’s signs were dusted
and hung and Dawson’s did their usual good
job getting the pianos down from the house. I
put up a recent portrait I’d done of Dad at work
and even created a special display of his unique
custom-made piano tools.
Pastel portrait by Graham Lupp of
his father Hector, in his workshop.
Bathurst Regional Art Gallery.
The only known photograph of Hector
working on a piano during his apprenticeship
in Western Australia, 1926-1929.
6
For many years Hec’s friend Tony Osborn
worked with him at the Show playing various
instruments while Dad talked to customers,
and we were grateful when Tony offered to join
us one more time. For three long cold days we
all stood there at the rear of the Beau Brown
Pavilion, talking to old friends and doing the
best we could in Dad’s absence – but even with
Tony’s familiar playing, it wasn’t the same.
However, on the final day we unexpectedly sold
a piano. Hector would have been delighted and
for us it was especially pleasing as this would
have been Hector’s sixtieth year at the Bathurst
Show and, always one for neat, round numbers,
he had planned to make it his last.
Graham Lupp, Bathurst, 2008
A Daughter’s tribute
A
s I set out to write about Dad it seemed
like a daunting task. So many emotions and
memories stirred up, some joyous and some
sad. I soon realised that the sharing of music
and song had bonded us in our own unique
and precious way.
We shared ‘special’ things which were just
ours. He loved it when I called him Dadda.
A twinkle of a smile came my way when we
both sang the same harmony simultaneously
to a tune on the wireless. We would often be
heard singing the same song at different ends
of the house. His quick reflexes and his ‘ear’
once rescued me from disaster when I made
an entrance in Oklahoma singing in the wrong
key. He hit the correct chord on the organ and
I was saved from much egg on face.
We three kids also shared his wonderful and
often off beat sense of humour. Dear Dad, his
life was often defeatingly difficult (because of
our mother’s illness) but he had the ability to
go from the blackest mood to tears of laughter
in a moment. An instance I recall so vividly
… Dad was yet again moving a cumbersome
pianola from his van to our lounge room
which was bulging with pianos already (poor
Mum). It had become patently obvious that
Hector as Musical Director and daughter,
Beverley, as Ann in the Carillon Theatrical
Society’s 1971 production of Half of Sixpence.
the pianola was not going to fit through our
front door. Thunder clouds were gathering as
this meant Dad would have to remove the door
to get it in. He was smouldering and about to
explode when six year old brother Graham,
always full of bright ideas, yelled out “Why
don’t you just take a run at it Dad?”. Well Dad
exploded alright; into helpless laughter, and
tears rolled down all our faces.
I was particularly blessed to have a Dad who
was so encouraging to me with my music
and singing. He taught me the importance
of lyrics, diction and the interpretation of a
song. Sometimes we would go over a piece
so many times that I would want to scream.
But this was Dad and I had to get it right.
I was very glad later in my career when such
things were commented on at an audition or
performance. I’ve silently thanked him many
times and I now tell my musical daughter the
same things.
Dad was a passionate man and a romantic. I
just adored it when he and I would sit down to
have a ‘sing song’. He had a penchant for the
7
composer Sigmund Romberg as I do, and we
spent hours totally engrossed in such shows as
The Student Prince, Desert Song and New Moon.
I learnt so much from him at these cherished
times. He was such a sensitive pianist and a
joy to sing with.
I still play these old shows, their melodies
are superb and they evoke images of him
and the times we shared singing, laughing
and dreaming. Music and his family were the
most important things in Dad’s life, although
I think fishing was a close third. I often think
he must have led a somewhat frustrated life
as his work and responsibilities prevented him
from pursuing other passions.
As I’ve grown older and understand myself
better I realise how much I loved him and just
what he gave so freely to us all. I think the
most important thing I knew about my Dad
was that he would always love me no matter
what I did. He was an honourable and loving
man and I am proud to be his daughter.
Beverley Gardiner, Melbourne, 2008
Beverley
Gardiner
DUET
(for my F
ather)
Our eyes m
He sat an et, over the lid, as
th
d played,
I dreamed ey always did;
I was jus
t a kid.
and sway
ed;
We conne
cte
Musical s d then,
ecrets sile
ntly share
We did fo
d
ry
Sing a wro ears,
ng note?
Wouldn’t
Occasion
have dare
al tears.
d!
A wink o
r a nod w
hen I was
His face
on, I
sho
Now he’s ne with pride, he tr ’d glance in the P
it,
gone.
ied to hid
e,
A day out in Sydney,
Hector with daughter
Yvonne, c.1947.
My eyes
stare
His music d; the carved lid,
a
played, ev
eryone pra frightened kid,
He loved
y
ed,
me well
Whateve
r I did.
Above: Hector with daughters Yvonne and
Beverley on their Speedwell, c.1945.
Right: Bathurst Railway Station, c.1948.
Hector and Marie with children Graham,
Beverley and Yvonne (waving).
8
A friend’s memories
I
cannot recall when I first met Hector
Lupp. His reputation as a musician was so
well established by the time my brother
Richard and I became utterly fascinated
with music in the early 1960s, that his
name was simply another household
word. Indeed there would have been very
few households in the district that did not
have some connection to Hector through
having obtained a piano or an organ from
him or having one either restored or
tuned by him. Then of course, there was
his playing of that most rare and most
public of all instruments, the Bathurst
War Memorial Carillon, as well as his
regular involvement with the regionally
famed Carillon Theatrical Society. Others
would have encountered Hector and his
piano-stand at the annual Bathurst Show
assisted by Tony Osborn. All in all, Hec’s
name preceded his presence in our humble
home in Esrom Street, Bathurst, when
Richard and I enthusiastically decided
to buy our sister Tess a piano, somewhat
regardless of her need for one.
On 6 Oct. 1937 Hector was appointed Bathurst’s
first official Carillonist. Because of his profession he was
the only local able to carry out frequent maintenance
of the carillon. He had this special harness made after
nearly falling on a previous occasion.
Photo: Bathurst National Advocate, Jan. 1936
The 1960s could easily be paraphrased
as ‘the best of times, the worst of times’.
It was the height of the Cold War and
the threat of Nuclear annihilation,
which we hoped would somehow leave
the Southern Hemisphere reasonably
intact should it occur, was ever present.
As if to compensate, some of us warily
grew accustomed to the distraction of
television and hungrily took to Rock and
Roll just before sex and drugs became
more widely available. Interestingly,
Hector seemed unaffected, always poised
within the present moment and what it
held. For me it was mainly music and
mainly jazz. Richard began playing guitar
earlier and by the time I started, there
were few vacancies for guitarist left, so I
was relegated to playing the electric bass.
The electric bass was not the glamorous
instrument it came to be and doubts were
cast as to whether it was an instrument at
all. On reflection it may have been the selftaught method I adopted. My dear and
late friend Gus Auguszczak suggested I
9
Hector, as Musical Director, and orchestra,
Carillon Theatrical Society, 1979, Carousel.
Back row, left to right: Anton Donker,
Bill Deveson, Robert Rochelli, Peter King.
Second row: Stuart Partis, Kerry Knight,
Fred Franklin, Ron Johnson,
Roland Auguszczak, Gus Auguszczak,
Richard Bialowas.
Front row: Robyn Kean, Joan Metcalfe,
Paul Copeland, Hector Lupp, Debbie Robinson,
Rhonda Copeland, Joyce Peers.
Photo: Carillon Theatrical Society, Bathurst
learn the clarinet as a second instrument;
which is how I initially got to know and play
with Hector Lupp.
In 1966 the Carillon Theatrical Society
staged its second production of the ever
popular Rodgers and Hammerstein musical
Oklahoma. Gus and I played first and second
clarinets respectively and sat near Hector
who played the organ. Hector had by then
already made quite an impact on the CTS
including the 1959 production of Oklahoma.
His valuable contribution in various guises
would continue through the 1970s and into
the late eighties both as a pit musician and
as a Musical Director. Hector played a variety
of instruments for these shows including
piano, organ and the double bass to which I
secretly aspired.
10
The orchestra pit can be a great leveler. This
enclave of intense concentration and sensitive
musical egos reveals character not merely
ability. My abilities were always modest and it
was the rare perception of individuals such as
Hector who can see an aspiring soul striving
for an acceptable if imperfect performance,
where others might easily reduce someone
to tears or nervous wrecks with a humiliating
glare or public outburst. Such subtle handling
of human fragility is not always obvious,
yet immensely liberating for the recipient.
Hector not only intuitively understood
this but practiced it as a matter of course. I
was never a good sight reader for instance,
and even years later I can still misinterpret
some tricky syncopated passage. Hec would
lean towards me and quietly ask, ‘could
that passage also be played like this?’ as he
accurately played the part on the piano, both of
us smiling in understanding.
Many years later when I returned to Bathurst
to practice architecture, I was called upon to
resume my place in the vibrant musical life
of the town. Once again Hector and I found
ourselves in the pit, so to speak. Not only that,
but Hector’s son Graham, now a gifted artist
and photographer but originally an architect,
worked with me on several important projects
and so, a long and close relationship evolved
between the Lupps and my family, for I had
then recently married, instantly acquiring
four remarkable children. Some of whom
displayed sufficient interest in music to
warrant the purchase of another piano from
Hector. This has become a family heirloom
and rarely do I sit at this instrument without
thinking of him.
Each year a new musical with the CTS
brought us together. I must have done at
least a dozen shows with Hector directing,
playing piano or organ or the double bass.
In the early 1980s I was the bass guitar
player, my clarinet having been stolen years
earlier sparing me and others a great deal of
karma. At some time, I acquired the double
bass that Hector used for these shows. As
I struggled to learn this new instrument, I
was astounded at how physically demanding
a double bass could be until a friend of mine
who was a professional bassist in Sydney
examined it and declared emphatically that
it was unplayable. This said a lot about the
stoic Hector, who simply never mentioned it.
One of Hector’s earliest toys, a pressed metal bass player,
c.1912. When wound up he plays a tune and,
to keep time, his tongue darts in and out.
No doubt inspired by this, Hector in later years often
played bass in local musical productions.
Much of what Hector did was graced with a
quiet compassion, and an understanding of
the human condition. He had an enviable
ability to appreciate people as they are,
rather than as we may wish them to be. I
recall (with some difficulty) the many nights
of after-show parties when we smoked and
11
drank far more than could have been good for
any of us and undoubtedly made utter fools
of ourselves, I suspect I did, and yet I cannot
recall Hector ever doing that though he was
always there to share the occasion, the jokes,
the laughter and camaraderie without the
need to judge or criticise, despite his known
personal aversion to those regrettable habits
of youth. He had a remarkable stamina,
often staying till last, driving to Sydney
next day to pick up an instrument then
showing up for the night performance,
bright as a button.
Throughout the 1980s my family grew
very fond of Hector. He and Graham
were frequent dinner guests and Hector
would delight us with stories filled with his
infectious humour and razor sharp wit. It
was not until he died that I learnt his own
life was far from easy. I can only say that he
was one of those rare individuals who do
make a difference without actually trying to,
by simply being their own unaffected selves
and giving that most precious of gifts, their
undivided time and complete attention to
the moments they are with you. It is most
fitting that he be remembered by the city to
which he gave so much for so long.
Henry Bialowas, Oberon, July 2008
A Son of Bathurst
1908 Born Bathurst, 28 Dec. Christened
Hector Joseph. Parents Louis Lupp (18771940) called Fardie, Leonora Lupp, née
Vistarini (1887-1988) called Marmee.
Attended Bathurst Public School and
Bathurst High School. Sister, Leonora
(1911-2002) and brother, Louis Charles
(1928-1986).
1926 To Geraldton, Western Australia.
1926-1929 Learnt piano tuning business
with uncle, Charles Lupp. Played in uncle’s
band. Became Service Manager, Nicholson’s
Ltd. for all of W.A. north of Perth.
1929 Returned to Bathurst. Joined Bathurst
District Band. Member of Lal Paton’s
Orchestra and Gartrell Brothers Orchestra.
Founded Lupp’s New Moon Orchestra,
originally called Rhythm Boys Dance Band.
Set up piano business. Worked from Sydney
to Brewarrina.
Marie and Hector shopping in Sydney,
sometime in the late 1930s
1916 First piano lesson. Teacher was
Olive Naylor. 1925 obtained five medals
and Licentiate in piano, London College of
Music.
1918 Played in father’s City Model Band.
Hector’s Uncle Charles was by all accounts an
unrelenting taskmaster, but that could
not stop the irrepressible teenager.
Hector, second from the top, poses with his
surfing mates, W.A., c.1927.
1918-1926 Played triangle, French horn,
percussion, cornet, viola, euphonium, piano,
organ, double bass. Earliest memory as
a bandsman; side drummer marching on
Armistice night, WWI, 11th Nov. 1918.
1922 Bathurst Eisteddfod, Under 15
Years, Pianoforte solo. Sister Leonora
also competed.
12
1930 Taught piano in the Depression.
1934 First practice on carillon 4 January.
Appointed Bathurst’s first official Carillonist
6 Oct. 1937. Gave over 500 public recitals
before retiring from the post in 1945.
1936 23 May. Married Marie Grace Davis.
Children Marie Yvonne (1940-96), Beverley
Joan (b.1942), Graham Edwin (b.1946).
1937 1 January, Radio 2BS commenced
broadcasting. With Reg Baillie and Terry
Croke, Hector, known as ‘Uncle Hec’ formed
the trio who produced the Children’s Session.
1942 RAAF 1942-1945. Based in Cairns,
Qld. Played brass instruments, RAAF Band
and piano and bass, RAAF Orchestra.
1946 Sunday morning show, The Diggers’
Hour, broadcast for many years from RSL
Club. Becomes honorary piano tuner, Bathurst
Eisteddfod, a position held for 43 years.
1989 Hector Lupp Memorial Prize created.
1955 Moved from first home in 29
Havannah St. to 54 Piper St., Bathurst.
1957 With colleague Allan Wightley of
Earlwood, undertook first major mechanical
overhaul of Bathurst Carillon.
1969 Conductor, Assumption School Choir.
Scores of 95 and 99 points.
1988 Celebrated sixty-nine years in amateur
stage productions, from 1919, Bathurst
Musical and Dramatic Society then, from
1958, Carillon Theatrical Society. Made a
Life Member. Musical Director: Desert Song,
1962; Salad Days, 1964; The King and I, 1970;
Half of Sixpence, 1971; Brigadoon, 1976 and
Carousel, 1979.
7 December, Hector’s mother, Marmee,
died in Bathurst aged 101.
1989 Hector died on 10th March at home in
Bathurst. Preparing to celebrate sixtieth year
exhibiting at the Bathurst Show.
Bathurst High School, Astley Cup. Football,
tennis, athletics.
Honorary Life Member, Central
Acclimatisation Society for work on trout
breeding.
Made Honorary Inspector of Fisheries, 1938
and 1948.
Active member of Bathurst Gun Club for
many years. Founding member Australian Clay
Target Association.
1978 Suffered heart attack after playing
squash.
NSW Clay Championships, twice runner-up.
Fourth in Commonwealth Shoot.
1979 Fifty years exhibitor at Bathurst
Show; presented with award from GovernorGeneral, Sir Zelman Cowan. Exhibited in
Oberon Show for many years.
Business related activities
Serviced Eisteddfod pianos and examination
pianos in the district for many years.
1980 Toured Wurlitzer factories, USA.
Toured USA with son Graham.
1986 Radio 2BS’s Citizen of the Year.
Sporting interests
Helped establish Abercrombie River Hatchery.
1972 17 May, wife Marie died in Bathurst
after long illness with arthritis.
1982 Toured Kawai factories, Japan.
The crossing of the Campbells River at Charlton,
near Rockley, was one of Hector’s favourite places to
‘wet a line’, and for the family to have a picnic while
they waited, often in vain, for the catch of the day.
Hector’s mother, Leonora, about 1916.
She died peacefully on 7 December 1988, aged
101. Hector survived her by only three months.
13
Serviced pianos for most regional educational
institutions.
Tuned the Bathurst city concert piano for
visiting ABC artists for many years.
A Son of Bathurst
Hector Lupp - A Son of Bathurst
Curated by Graham Lupp
© 2008 Graham Lupp
Catalogue design, Tony O’Neill
Printed by CSU Print 6338 4152
Photo credits.
Except where noted, all photographs
Lupp family album.
Front cover photograph: Hector in
his Austin, c.1942.
Left: Fly fishing at Tuglow Falls on
Grove Creek near Jenolan Caves.
Far left top: This Murray Cod, at 82½
lbs (37½ kg) was the biggest that Hec
and good mate, Percy White, ever landed.
Burrinjuck Dam, 1948.
Far left bottom: Fishing on the
Abercrombie River, Wyangala Dam,NSW.
Hector with 52 lbs. (24kg) Murray Cod.
ISBN 978-0-646-50416-2