Jazz and the movies have a long history. Many silent films were accompanied by live ragtime, and jazz in movies increased with the advent of talkies in 1929—both in terms of background music and plots. Entire movie scores by jazz artists is a different matter. That started in the late 1950s with I Want to Live (1958/Johnny Mandel) and continued with Anatomy of a Murder (1959/Duke Ellington), Odds Against Tomorrow (1959/John Lewis), The Subterraneans (1960/Andre Previn), Paris Blues (1961/Duke Ellington) and Blow-Up (1966/Herbie Hancock) to name just a handful of the early ones. [Photo above of Stanley Clarke by Olga Karpova, courtesy of Stanley Clarke)
Recently I had an opportunity to see an advance stream of Halston, a fascinating new documentary directed by Frédéric Tcheng. The film tracks the rise and fall of the designer who changed women's fashion in the 1970s and early '80s, and whose name became the industry's first wildly successful brand. Halston started out in the late 1950s as a hat designer at New York's Bergdorf Goodman, which at the time was society's walk-in closet. His big break came when he created Jackie Kennedy's cream pillbox hat that she wore at the January 1961 inauguration of her husband. Soon, Bergdorf began promoting Halston in ads, a first for the prestigious store. In 1966, Halston had penetrated society sufficiently that he made more than 100 elaborate masks for Truman Capote's famed Black and White Ball at the Plaza Hotel. [Photo above of Halston with his fragrance bottle designed by Elsa Peretti]
In 1968, Halston left Bergdorf Goodman to start Halston Limited just off Madison Ave. He gave Elsa Peretti her start, transforming her into a jewelry-designer superstar who would create his off-center fragrance bottle. He launched the careers of models Pat Cleveland, Nancy North, Karen Bjornson among others. By the early '70s, Halston had created a clean, simple look for the soft decade, designs that flowed and exuded elegance and ease, femininity and freedom, and power without being masculine. As Fred Rottman, Halston's workroom supervisor, notes in the film, "Halston took concepts developed by designer Charles James and relaxed them." Along the way, he invented hot pants and was the first to tap into celebrities such as Liza Minnelli and Elizabeth Taylor to sell an image.
But by 1983, Halston's sky-high ambitions put him on a collision course with ruin. That year, he signed a six-year licensing deal worth $1 billion with J.C. Penny. Overnight, the Halston name became mass market and accessible to anyone who could pay between $24 and $200 for his Halston III clothes. His shift from class to mass compelled Berdorf Goodman to drop his high-end lines. When Halston III was poorly received, J.C. Penney in 1983, the line wound up with Norton Simon Inc., which was acquired by Esmark Inc.
In 1984, Halston's fussiness caused delays in delivering his mass-market concepts, compelling the new owners to bring in others to continue his lines without his input or permission. Tragically, Halston had sold away all rights to his name in an era when conglomerates were becoming expert at turning art into trash for every last dime.
In 1988, the designer tested positive for HIV, and in 1990 he died of an AIDS-related illness.
The Halston documentary is fascinating for its look back at an era before designers understood the perils of being bought out. Before his move to the mass market, Halston's designs were breathtaking and bold, defining relaxed, female chic when Studio 54 was the rage and celebrity, fashion, music and art all intersected in New York.
The documentary's original music was composed by jazz bassist Stanley Clarke and is a fascinating, eclectic listen. Clarke's compositions are acoustic and electronic, and as loose-fitting and liberating as Halston's designs. Throughout the soundtrack, there are musical references to disco, catwalks, soul and the glittery, narcissistic world of the 1970s and early '80s. What I love about Clarke's soundtrack is that it isn't trying to be a part of an era nor is it trying to nostalgically surface the essence. Instead, Clarke's score is an impression of Halston's fashion revolution and the entire era. The music frames the film's scenes but remains vibrant, sympathetic and contemporary. It's a silhouette of Halston and his contribution to fashion.
JazzWax tracks: You'll find Stanley Clarke's Halston: (Original Motion Pictures Soundtrack) here.
You'll also find the album at Spotify.
JazzWax clips: Here's the film's trailer...
Here's Stanley Clarke's The Beautiful Models...
Here's Where Is Halston...
Here's 2 a.m. at Studio 54...
Here's 52 W. 54th St...
And here's Walking the Runway...
