We would like for you to meet Garland Gallaspy. Friend. Man. Artist. Bow and arrow phenom. Exotic meat connoisseur. Photographer. Jack-of-all-trades.

We’re sitting in East Nashville’s Edgefield Bar – me a non-writer, and Garland, a longtime acquaintance of mine now finding himself in an unfamiliar Q&A scenario. Put on the spot, he decides to clam up and be modest about his awesomeness. Of course, it doesn’t help that I have no idea what I’m doing, staring at him, waiting for him to tell me stuff. After a few Fat Tires and a lot of me tap-tap-tapping on the laptop, we end the night with a few rounds of darts during which I proceed to get my Imogene-wearing butt handed to me, multiple times.

I was just being nice: I’m a dart shark. Apparently, I’m not bad with a camera, either. At the end of the night, I mention to Garland that I need to take a picture of him for this piece. He hands me his camera, takes off his pants, and jumps over a fence. Seems about right.

Before he got semi-naked and tried to make his escape, I did manage to get a bit more information out of him than I had going in.

For living, Garland works in production, on everything from TV shows and music videos to full-length feature and indie films. Some starring Nicole Kidman, others trash-humping old men. (No one ever said he was predictable.) He has an encyclopedic knowledge of all these realms, and, along with being a damn hard worker, he manages to keep his watchful Polaroid eye at the ready at all times, whether he’s working, playing or sleeping. Garland always seems to know exactly when to push the button.

Why Polaroids? Garland initially started using them in the late ‘90s to document and remember the night before. Shooting with instant film meant he could wake up with a pant-load of shots the next morning, ready to rehash the previous night and embarrass those he wished to tease. Today, he still shoots almost all of his photos with original Polaroid film. He currently has a personal stock of about 72 packs, none marked with an expiration date after September ’09. After Polaroid stopped producing in 2008, The Impossible Project put out their own version of the film, but Garland claims it’s not quite the same. He’s quite the purist and sticks to using the expired batch he has on hand.

Garland is not simply a photographer. He’s someone who generates creative ideas at will, most of them brilliant. Once, he stumbled upon an abandoned house holding five generations of one family’s history within its walls, including photos (some capturing redneck living room weddings), report cards, letters from angry baby mamas, and an attic bursting with hundreds of 2×3 negatives. All of these gathered treasures inspired the ‘zine 62 Twin, which documented much of the house’s quirky memorabilia. Parts of the ‘zine are funny, parts are painfully heartbreaking, parts are soaked in methamphetamines, and parts are completely relatable. It’s the great American novel put together in a way that only Garland could.

Another creation – spawned from a very creative surge during a bad hangover – was a replica of the monolith from 2001:A Space Odyssey
that he impulsively built in his backyard. After finding that “monolith” had it’s own very informative Wikipedia page, equipped with proper dimensions, Garland found a piece of plywood in his garage that was only a third of an inch off from the given measurements, and said, “Yes. Monolith.” This little piece of science fiction nerd heaven has now been cleverly turned into Garland’s very own super-sonic compost heap…the most badass compost heap, like, ever.

There’s more. Garland was also a traveling puppeteer (duh). During that one-year stint on the road, while visiting different thrift stores, it dawned on him to start taking the tapes out of discarded answering machines he came across. He and his buddy William Tyler decided the best use of these hilarious and telling gems was to put them on a record. Voila! Hilarity and Despair: American Answering Machine Tapes, Vol 1. was born. It features the very honest listing description, “No tracks, just goodness.” (Purchase your very own copy through the Sebastian Speaks label; you won’t regret it.)

Yet another fun fact: Garland was the curator of the First (and last) Annual Exotic Meatfest, hosted by a handful of friends and made possible by 25 folks all pitching in $20 to buy thirty pounds of yak, caribou, antelope, alligator, crocodile, elk, turtle, and wild boar. (Curious meat enthusiasts should duly note that yak won the taste-test, hands down.)

Garland’s latest project is a book that gathers many, many of his collected Polaroids of friends, strangers, movie stills, found objects, and party times. Called Tender Moments, the collection proves that Garland is the ultimate moment-seizer; whether the subject is profane, naked, foul, humping, sweet, living, dead, uneventful, momentous, or just a landscape, he manages to capture the ultimate beauty in everything he shoots. That can be hard to do when what you’re shooting can be hard for some people to look at. But Garland really pulls it off.

We asked Garland to choose some of his favorite shots from the exhibit – his favorite safe-for-work shots, that is (this eliminated a lot of the Tender Moments collection) – and provide us with a little commentary on each. What he gave us is interspersed throughout this story.

One thing’s for sure: This ain’t your granny’s coffee table book.

–Jessica

Photographs from Tender Moments, Garland Gallaspy’s limited-edition book, are currently on view and for sale at Ovvio Arte, located at 425 Chestnut Street in Nashville. This heaping scoop of nostalgia will be up through March 8. You can buy Garland’s book by emailing him directly: iamnotjuliemartin@yahoo.com.