Vale Lino Magro, radio guru
Campaign Brief was saddened to hear of the passing of Lino Magro, a long time respected veteran of Perth’s Radio Production industry. Perth creative veteran John Ilian said Magro taught him most of what he knows about writing and producing commercials for radio. Ilian wrote this dedication:
“I learnt four important characteristics about radio from Lino.
Firstly, he said nearly everyone listening to radio, isn’t. They’re doing something else – driving, working, shaving, eating – whatever.
Secondly Radio is often background. Radio is the equivalent of aural wallpaper – you don’t see it. You don’t hear it
Thirdly, commercials are the pictures that hang on the wall. They’re what you notice. There is a difference between listening and hearing.
He was a brilliant producer long before digital technologies arrived. There was nothing he couldn’t do with a Chinagraph pencil, a cutting block and a razor blade.
As Adam Barker wrote (below), he was highly regarded by such radio luminaries as Street Remley and Phil Webster.
He had a wonderful knack of extracting the exact performance from the voice-over talent needed for whatever radio commercial on which he worked.
Despite a lifetime producing for AM in mono, he truly understood writing for stereo when fm radio rocked up.
He was a wonderful character, warm and funny with a wonderful sense of humour. He could swear magnificently.
I owe him heaps. He will be missed throughout the industry.
Lino was 83. RIP, Lino.
Current and former Perth creatives have fondly remembered Magro on Facebook: Brendon Guthrie posted “Patient, always generous with his time and between expletives, he taught this then junior copywriter the important difference between hearing and listening. Rest in peace, Lino.”
Adam Barker wrote “Being in the studio with Lino was a joy. He loved craft and creativity and having a great laugh in the process. He was deeply respected by peer radio greats like Street Remley and Phil Webster. Thank you Lino, you helped me fall in love with radio.”
Vaughan Sutherland wrote “I’m shattered. Lino was radio producer and engineer supremo for all the decades of my early career as a copywriter for radio. He could make a read of the phone book sound captivating. He produced my first award winning commercial. And many more over the years. He was brilliant, a certified genius with a wicked sense of humour. I’ll miss you mate. You’ll have ‘em rockin’ upstairs in no time. Ciao Leno, you’ll be remembered fondly.”
Dick Baynham posted “Greatly saddened by the news. Lino was my mentor, colleague, and friend. I worked with him at 6PR back in ’72. He was ‘the best of the best,’ as a producer and a human being. He will be sorely missed by everyone who knew him. Love and condolences to Lyn and the family. Rest easy, my friend.”
Darcy Campbell wrote “Very sad to hear John. Was a lovely man, supremely talented in Radio Production 🎙️📻🎧with a wonderful sense of humour. Vale Lino.”
John Morgan wrote “A favourite memory of Lino was his unforgettable bass baritone voice reserved exclusively for track id’s. Lino would go through a session in his normal voice then when it came time to tag the id’s you’d swear Orson Welles had entered the studio. Lovely bloke. RIP Lino.”
Malcolm MacLean commented “Sad news. But the gag that always made him smile: How do you make a Maltese Cross? Don’t pay him.”
6 Comments
In the days when radio was on the AM band in mono, quarter-inch tapes ran at 7.5 inches per second, and the Auratone was the mix-down speaker of choice, Lino Magro ruled the airwaves. He truly was the Phil Spector of radio production in the 60s and 70s in Perth and nobody else came close. He was also an exceptional human being who rose from humble beginnings at Clontarf Boys’ Home to become the toast of Perth radio producers, yet he never lost sight of his roots. Vale, Lino. RIP
Lino always found a way to turn work into a humorous fun session. A champion individual.
While still a child, Lino Magro was sent from Malta by his parents.
His formative years were spent in a Catholic boys’ home where he relied on his strength of character and disdain for idiots in authority to avoid the sexual and other abuse many of his fellow inmates did not.
Unlike the vast majority of those he served diligently for decades, Lino had perfect pitch, a keen, if uncultivated, intellect and an industry-leading work ethic.
Were it not for his stoicism and admirably offensive sense of humour, his frustration would have killed him long before the brain tumor.
He suffered fools and delighted in the absurdity and solving the challenges his work provided.
But what mattered most to him at the sad beginning, and at the awful end, was his family.
I already miss our politely abusive discussions.
His candour.
And his loud, irreverent laugh.
Hear, hear, Richard!
Sad to hear of Lino’s passing. He must have produced hundreds of my vo’s…and always made me sound great. Before he’d let me leave he’d always say, “Let’s just do one more take”…
I’ve known and liked a lot of the people I’ve worked with over the years, but there are only a few I also truly admired and respected. Lino was one of them. His death has deeply saddened me. I’ll miss him.