Photographer Ron Galella at his home. (David Rosenzweig)
Ron Galella has seen everything. And photographed it. The walls of his 7,000-square-foot Montville, NJ, mansion are adorned with hundreds of images he’s shot of the most prominent celebrities over the last 50 years.
“Our old house had a two-car garage that was full of pictures,” Galella says of deciding with his wife, Betty, to move here in 1992. “We had to find a bigger house.”
His path to notoriety started in The Bronx, as the son of an Italian immigrant who built cabinets. Galella began his artistic career as a ceramist, but after enlisting in the Army during the Korean War and photographing the stars who visited his base to entertain troops, his interest in celebrity was sparked. Moving back to New York City, he became one of the first paparazzi to chase down celebrities, capturing them in candid yet glamorous moments. Galella trailed everyone from Jackie O and Liz Taylor to Robert Redford and Marlon Brando, and became a trailblazer in his own right. He is known as the godfather of American paparazzi.
But now, at 82, Galella lives a private life away from the spotlight he once sought. In his quiet, tree-lined neighborhood, he and Betty have settled into an airy, impeccably designed, palatial home that boasts a master bedroom, two upstairs bedrooms (used for print storage), a private suite with a kitchenette, maid’s quarters, six bathrooms, a great room, an Andy Warhol-themed lounge and a sprawling basement that houses his extensive archives.
Galella has custom-designed colorfully patterned plush chairs inspired by the ’60s, which furnish his “Warhol Room.” He also crafted white ceramic statues that sit atop the railing of his sun deck out back, which overlooks a sprawling garden and a now empty rabbit hutch.
Galella and his wife adore bunnies, and had seven named after prominent gossip columnists like Hedda Hopper and Walter Winchell. Galella now keeps cabinets full of porcelain bunny statues.
But Galella’s primary love is, of course, photography. “Every photo has to have a hero,” Galella says of how he frames his subjects. His images evoke a timeless energy taken with an artist’s eye and reverence. Yet, Galella is playful, too. After Brando punched him in the face, knocking out five bottom teeth, Galella had a football helmet custom-made and trailed the irate icon while covered in the headgear.
His humorous approach and his respect for subjects — “Jackie never wanted me to photograph her kids, and I always respected that,” Galella says of the late Mrs. Kennedy — are what set Galella apart from the rabid modern version of paparazzi, whom he refers to as “gangbangers.”
“I always wanted to capture the beauty of the stars. Now, photographers only want to capture the tragedy, what’s ugly,” Galella says with distaste. His reverence is clear in the carefully labeled boxes of negatives in his basement, where assistants help digitize images. Meticulously labeled, the boxes read like the Hollywood walk of fame.
Perhaps in homage to the celluloid culture Galella so loves, a red cement plaque is planted before the wide-stone front steps to his mansion. His handprints and signature have been immortalized in the stone. After a lifetime spent chasing, befriending and documenting stars, Galella is happily settled here in a quiet life.