I was reminded of this photo the other day when it resurfaced on Facebook (in humorously doctored form). Here’s the original, reproduced from a two-page spread in a special “Hollywood 1997” issue of Vanity Fair that appeared on newsstands in April of that year. Be forewarned: if you care about film music of the era, and the decades preceding, your head might explode.

Front row, L to R: Danny Elfman, John Williams, Jerry Goldsmith, James Newton Howard

Middle row: Hans Zimmer, Elmer Bernstein, John Barry, Quincy Jones, Maurice Jarre, Michael Kamen

Back row, seated: James Horner, Lalo Schifrin, Mark Isham, Bill Conti, Elliot Goldenthal, Marvin Hamlisch (the guy who looks a bit like Bernard Herrmann, chatting with Jarre in front of him)

Standing: Alan Menken, Marc Shaiman

The photo, by Art Streiber, is actually doctored, with the subjects being captured in two sessions, on January 7 & 20, 1997.

Some notable omissions (and by no means an exclusive list): the Newmans, Alan Silvestri, Patrick Doyle, Rachel Portman, and of course Ennio Morricone. Still, a stunning assemblage, from a time when Goldsmith, Elmer Bernstein, John Barry, and Maurice Jarre still walked among us. All gone now. We’ve also lost Quincy Jones, Marvin Hamlisch, Lalo Schifrin, Michael Kamen, and James Horner.

Zimmer (what could he possibly have to talk about with Elmer Bernstein?) has done more than anyone to drive the classic Hollywood sound to extinction. Sadly, his influential brand of electronically generated and/or manipulated drones and ostinati have come to dominate cinema in the digital era, as films are tweaked into bland homogeneity virtually up to the day of release. Most of it is easily forgettable, as a chainsaw or a leaf blower is forgettable. The annoyance evaporates as soon as it stops. Recently, I was impressed by his work on “Dune,” but as is so often the case, so much of it is more like sound design than music.

I am thankful to have lived through such a great era, but I am continually reminded of all that’s changed for the worse. In 1997, the movies were already on shaky ground. My heart aches every day, not least of all for their faded glory.