Il jazz secondo Gianni Basso. Cronache di un caposcuola (Gianni Basso’s take on jazz. Chronicles of a leading figure) is a book by Sandra Scagliotti and Fulvio Albano, published by Azzurra Publishing in 2014, five years after the death of the great Piedmontese saxophonist. Gianni Basso was one of the greatest Italian jazz musicians, and retracing his story is also a way of talking about Italian jazz and its relationship with American music.
Born in 1931, Gianni Basso’s story is fascinating. He emigrated to Belgium with his family in 1956, like many Italians at the time, and found there the perfect place to pursue his passion for jazz, which he had started listening to during the war as the theme tune for Radio London. In Belgium, he also played for American and Canadian troops, and Gianni came into contact with musicians of the calibre of René Thomas, Django Reinhardt and Toots Thielemans. Returning to Italy, he moved to Milan in the 1950s, where he met trumpeter Oscar Valdambrini, with whom he embarked on a long and fruitful musical partnership.
In 1961, their sextet won a trip to America in a competition between Italian jazz musicians. The experience in New York was naturally stimulating and allowed them to listen to and play with some of the great names in jazz. There, Gianni confirmed that his musical values were shared across the ocean: to be a good jazz musician, you need “knowledge of the jazz repertoire, study, practice, discipline and humility”.
In the 1970s, Basso also recorded several soundtracks, including one for I soliti ignoti, the first jazz soundtrack in the history of Italian cinema. In the 1980s, he played with Sarah Vaughan and other great performers.
The interviews collected in the book retrace crucial moments in the spread of jazz in Italy, such as the formation of the great Trovajoli orchestra in the 1950s, hosted in the RAI studios. The saxophonist also recalls Louis Armstrong’s first concert in Turin in 1935 and the interest that jazz aroused among enthusiasts and intellectuals, including Cesare Pavese. With irony, Gianni associates the term swing with the Piedmontese word zembu.
In recounting Basso’s life, the authors also touch on the stories of other great Italian musicians: Armando Trovajoli, Renato Sellani, Dino Piana and, of course, Oscar Valdambrini, his artistic companion for practically his entire life.
The book is also a sort of history of jazz told through Basso’s voice, evoking the swing era, Coleman Hawkins, Duke Ellington. His words reveal a genuine love for jazz — and listening to someone who deeply loves something is a pleasure in itself. Among the musicians who inspired him most, Basso mentions Stan Getz and Gerry Mulligan in particular. The story of his friendship with Chet Baker, a precious musical companion despite his troubled life and unstable character, is also moving.
Although he says he does not like “words about jazz”, Gianni Basso is capable of concise and effective definitions. For example, when he says that jazz is based on the “three Bs”: blues, ballads and bebop. Or when he divides musicians into two categories: those “in minor”, melancholic and introverted, and those “in major”, who express joy and vitality.
The book is full of amusing anecdotes, such as the one about Dizzy Gillespie who, after eating three plates of spaghetti before the concert, wanted to return to the restaurant as soon as he finished playing… to eat some more. Or the stories about the Taverna Messicana in Milan, whose manager, in order to attract customers, improvised surreal shows during concerts, involving animals, mice and chickens.
With his typical irony, Basso can also be scathing about trends and certain colleagues who, in his opinion, do not really love jazz. ‘There are also those who, under a guise of false modesty, act like creative geniuses – or worse still, are genuinely convinced that they are.’ And again: ‘Chart climbers, award collectors… enfant prodige, victims of shrewd managers.’ On the habit of playing any song in jazz style, just to follow trends or gain visibility, Gianni is clear: ‘It’s not enough to cover a simple song with jazz paint if there is no solid harmonic interweaving in the composition.’
Only when prompted by the interviewers does Basso indulge in these reflections, and he does so from a position of absolute authority. It is not a question of envy: his criticism is directed at “fake jazz” and the idea that music must necessarily be an instrument of protest. He bitterly recalls the days when he and his colleagues were criticised simply for wearing suits and ties, while others rode the wave of the moment with songs dedicated to Mao Tse-tung.
Gianni Basso was a showman, certainly, but first and foremost he was a jazz musician. He always put music first, firmly refusing pop music engagements that would have brought him fame and money, but at the expense of artistic integrity.
For a musician like me, Gianni Basso’s stories also evoke a bit of nostalgia. For example, when he recalls playing until four in the morning, half asleep. Certainly a great effort, but also a school that unfortunately no longer exists today. I met Gianni Basso only twice: the first time to listen to his orchestra, full of young talent; the second time on stage at the Teatro Civico in La Spezia, which I had the honour of sharing with him. He was already very ill and played seated, but he did not want to give up music.
In conclusion, Il jazz secondo Gianni Basso. Cronache di un caposcuola is a book written by jazz enthusiasts who interview a jazz great. These pages allow us to absorb the love for this music and can be inspiring for musicians and enthusiasts alike. Sadly, the book has not yet been translated into English. However, for those who can read Italian, I highly recommend it to anyone who loves jazz and wants to learn more about the life, vision, and career of Gianni Basso.