JAZZ : Mussolini Swings Into L.A.

Romano Mussolini sounded excited. The phone call from Rome left no doubt that he looked forward eagerly to his first California visit in 18 years; to renewing old friendships and addressing the American public.

Mussolini will not be giving political speeches. His mission here is as unconventional as his life and career have been insecure and pain-scarred.

The youngest son of Benito Mussolini, he was 17 when the life of Adolf Hitler’s World War II Fascist ally came to an ignominious end in 1945. For more than a decade he said he was “afraid to appear in public” because the family name aroused too many mixed emotions. “I had many jobs outside music, always without profit.” He worked in the lumber business, then got into the construction field and several other short-lived undertakings, among them poultry farming.

But today Mussolini, 60, is accepted as one of Italy’s foremost jazz pianists, touring internationally, recording, broadcasting.

Last month a deal was made for him to bring over his quintet, and a singer, for three gourmet-banquet-and-concert dates (at $200 a head) Saturday and Sunday at Perino’s, a Los Angeles restaurant.

“I have put together a show dedicated to the Swing Era,” said Mussolini, “with tributes to Benny Goodman and Lionel Hampton, and a special homage to George Gershwin. For the Italian part of the show my vocalist, Maria Kelly--that’s not her real name; she’s Italian--will sing some of our own songs.

“There are two great musicians in my group--Ezio Randisi on vibes and Gianni St. Just on clarinet; Gianni played on some of my first recordings in 1957. And I have a fine rhythm section with Aldo Vigorito on bass and Wilfred Copello on drums.”

After the two-day gig, Mussolini and his troupe will return directly to Italy, though he hopes to return in the fall for some dates in Florida.

His last California visit--a brief tour as part of an Italian vaudeville show--went almost unnoticed by the jazz community, but for Mussolini it was rewarding, as he had a chance to catch Bill Evans at Shelly’s Manne Hole and fly to Las Vegas to hear Count Basie.

He has visited New York, also briefly. “Three years ago I played in a concert taped for Italian television at Lincoln Center. I had the wonderful experience of playing with one of my true favorites, George Benson.”

Despite several abortive ventures in other worlds, music has been part of his life from infancy. Father Benito, who read music and played the violin (“He was also a great admirer of Fats Waller”) encouraged his interest in jazz.

“My sister started on piano and my brother, Vittorio, took up the cello. It’s odd--they studied but didn’t become players; I am self-taught but I’m a professional. It was Vittorio, though, who became a pioneer jazz critic; it was through his collection--Ellington, Teddy Wilson, Earl Hines--that I taught myself by copying solos off their records.

“One of the very first tunes I can remember is Duke Ellington’s ‘Black Beauty.’ In fact, I started to love this music when I was 3 or 4 years old. I remember the first time I heard a Louis Armstrong record, the sound was so beautiful that I cried.”

For Romano Mussolini, World War II is mainly remembered less as a titanic struggle than as the era when he began amassing a collection of V-Discs and 78s, and became aware of the new be-bop movement. But he was unable to put his knowledge and talent to practical use; for a year after the war, he and his mother and sister were exiled to the island of Ischia, where “The only center of jazz was a barbershop where we gathered and had sessions--I played guitar a little.”

Returning to Rome, he was promptly sidelined for a year by pneumonia. “Then I finished my education at the University of Naples, studying economic science; after graduating I took my first gig, leading a quartet for 300 lire (then $3) a night.”

After years working odd jobs in the lumber and construction businesses, an editor of the Musica Jazz magazine persuaded him to take part in a festival at San Remo. By now the name evoked less political resistance and mainly curiosity.

“I was uncomfortable because of all the photographers, but for the festival it was fantastic. Headlines in the papers the next day, ‘Romano Mussolini Plays Jazz,’ ” he said.

That year, 1956, he made the first in a series of records for Italian RCA. Little by little he established a reputation as a confident, Oscar Peterson-inspired musician. He was especially proud of the night when his first wife, Maria Scicolone, actress Sophia Loren’s sister, sat in with the Peterson Trio. (“Oscar and I are good buddies.”) He now lives in Rome with his second wife, Carla, and their three children.

Along with his performing, Mussolini has produced and directed a couple of movies and promoted a number of concerts. “For three summers I presented jazz at the beach resort of Viareggio. We had musicians from all over Europe, and from America--I spent one whole summer playing with Chet Baker.”

He gave his first radio performance with Dizzy Gillespie. “Dizzy is a kind man--so good-hearted; he became a true friend.” In 1972 Romano went to Venice to catch a concert by Gillespie, Thelonious Monk and others; after hanging out with the musicians he had to drive back to Rome all night in order to play the next morning at a high school with his quartet, which at that point included the American clarinetist Tony Scott.

The traumas that played a bitter role in the young life of Mussolini seem to have been slowly eliminated by time and growing success. Jazz may not have made him wealthy, but it has brought him a career to which, during more than a decade in the frustrating postwar period, he was effectively denied entry.

At the time of his 1970 California visit he was still claiming that music could not be a true profession for him, that he played merely for pleasure. Today, with a background that has taken him to Canada, Mexico, Australia and dozens of other countries, he says he is more secure than ever before.