The Sciò family, who own and operate three of the most glorious properties in Italy under the Pellicano Group—Hotel Il Pellicano in Monte Argentario, La Posta Vecchia, just outside Rome, and their newest, Mezzatorre on the island of Ischia—never meant to get into the hotel business. That is a large part of the secret of their success. These places were bought for love and family, and in the spirit of preserving beauty and history. And that is the way the hotels are run—with a spirit of love, a sense of family, a natural Italian hospitality, as well as a native understanding of beauty: what to alter and what to just leave alone. But the quill in the hotel group’s arrow that has shot them well past the mark in a country full of beautiful hotels in exquisite locations, and made them renowned and relevant, and make a room here coveted around the world, is the patriarch Roberto’s daughter, Marie Louise Sciò, creative director of the group, and the family’s (not so) secret weapon.
With a mix of charm, enthusiasm, beauty and talent, Marie Louise has remained utterly open and affectless, despite growing up as a kind of Eloise roaming the Pellicano, which her father bought to keep from development, and being snapped by Slim Aarons in all her tan and freckleface girlhood tomboy poise. Later, she shuttled between a Swiss boarding school and John Paul Getty’s vast manse by the Rome Sea, before the family decided to turn it into the hotel La Posta Vecchia. But she, too, had no intention of going into the family business. Having studied architecture at the Rhode Island School of Design, she was lured back to help her father with a project, and to the benefit of anyone who has ever stayed at one of these hotels, never left.
The first time I met Sciò was several years ago for a drink at the Hotel Russie in Rome—she likes to go to other hotels both for the sheer pleasure of it and for a bit of reconn, and despite my being jet lagged and very much in need of a shower, and her being elegant in a ponytail and with legs for days, she was so cozy and warm I felt I had known her forever. Soon after Marie Louise asked me—I was editor of T magazine at the New York Times back then—to co-host the Pellicano’s 50th Anniversary bash along with our great mutual friend, Angela Missoni. That party, like everything Marie Louise hosts, was filled with a mix of family, artists, writers, actors, fashion designers, Porto Ercole locals and Italian society girls (the fun ones), or in other words, her friends, and brought to life by the good cheer she inspires, great food, excellent music and dancing long into the night.
Deborah Needleman: The Pellicano was started by Anglo-American couple in the 60’s, and I understand they were a bit snobby about letting in Italians, no? How did your parents end up being part of that original group?
Marie-Louise Sciò: Yes. My mom is American and only spoke English at a time when few people in Rome spoke English. As an American-Italian couple, they didn't know where they could go to socialize, and then my dad learned about this place, Il Pellicano. The first time he came, he bumped into Charlie Chaplin and kind of fell off his chair. He was like, “Where on earth have I landed?” And he became a part of this club—it was a club without being a club, as there was a kind of natural selection of acceptance. He was the youngest—the average age was quite high. I mean, I think Chaplin was in his nineties. In 1979, the Grahams put the hotel up for sale and he bought the property he had fallen in love with. So it’s in the DNA of the place that a family runs it; also that there is a face to the place, a point of view. I think that's what makes a difference in a lot of family-run hotels in Italy: you really see the personality of the people who run it.
Part of what is unique about the Pellicano is that it is extremely luxurious, but it manages to feel casual and homey, like you’ve arrived at a wonderful friend’s fantastic place where you can just drop your bags from the airport, and head straight out to the sea or pool for a swim. Even the Michelin-star restaurant which is quite elegant doesn’t feel fussy.
I don't like fuss, in life or the hotels. That's the way I want to do the hotels: elegant and chic, but without any pompousness. And even the décor, it's quite simple, but everything is done with quality. I do believe less is more. Mother Nature helped a lot, of course.
Part of it is, yes, the sublime natural location: you're above the sea in a secluded cove, and the atmosphere is resplendent with the scent of rosemary and saltwater; it's very private, you're looking out over a great expanse of water. But it also feels like a whole world: one somehow has that sense of la dolce vita Italy from the '60s or '70s, that period when Porto Ercole was incredibly chic, and so there is this completely formed worldview. But the other part is a magic that you create, in which the luxury that is everywhere is also invisible. Everything feels easy and natural, and as a guest everything you could dream of is on hand, rather than that feeling of being constantly observed by an obsequious staff yes ma'am-ing you and hovering over you with annoying politeness. How do you manage that?
