Focal Length

The transition from film to digital and from Maine to Blacksburg for photographer Kip Brundage.

After spending thirty years in Maine, native Virginian Kip Brundage moved to Blacksburg last fall to reconnect with his high school sweetheart. Since then, he's made the New River Valley his home and his artistic inspiration. One chilly night in early December, I caught up with Kip by phone. Affable and generous with his time, the artist had plenty to say about his interests, from sports to nature, the evolution of his techniques, and the joys of going digital.

It's always a challenge as a working artist to find jobs that pay while maintaining creative focus. Although he found success in advertising and commercial video working in Maine, Brundage is enjoying a new sense of artistic freedom after his move to Blacksburg. Now that his two daughters have graduated from college, he said, "I don't have that nut to crack, and I can take assignments that are fun."

Brundage is re-exploring fine art nature photography in the Jefferson National Forest, where he often wanders with his dog. For further local inspiration, he has turned his eye to the Virginia Tech men's soccer team, who he also helps out as an assistant coach.

"Soccer has been described as a simple game made complicated by bad decisions," Kip says wryly. "But if you understand the game, you can anticipate where a good picture will come from. I'm not trying to capture 'the magic moment'—I'd rather find images out in the trenches where more players are visible and you can see the big picture."

Brundage has a special affinity for storytelling with pictures. "I like to tell stories with stills," he says. In order to reveal the story he sees in an image, Brundage requires precise control over all steps of the picture's creation. A digital studio put him back in the driver's seat. With computer software, now he can work in color while printing and editing affordably at home, instead of wasting time sending film to a commercial lab or using expensive chemicals and film.

"It's like having a darkroom again," he said.

Even without the interesting effects derived from burning, dodging, and manipulating of a gelatin print under a darkroom enlarger, Brundage has an advantage over artists who are immersed entirely in digital cameras and Photoshop, since his techniques are informed by the skill sets he learned from traditional photography. He remains dedicated to working with the precision that a single-lens reflex (SLR) film camera requires. "I still carry a light meter. Why wouldn't I want to get the best exposure possible?" he said. "When you work in Kodakchrome, any good photographer knows that you have to be within half an F-stop to get a usable picture. Now, you maybe can get a good one within two F-stops with a digital, but really: you want the maximum information possible. Good craft requires a good exposure."

With Kodak shutting more of its plants down every year, it seems as if we are entering the twilight of film. Brundage isn't grieving, though. He has stopped doing darkroom processing altogether, and doesn't miss it a bit. "I don't miss my fingernails turning brown," he said.

Overall his concerns with chemical processing are far from superficial. "Nothing looks better than a beautiful, silvertone print, but in the work I do it seems selfish to use these chemicals that are so damaging to the environment if I don't have to."

Brundage has gone from darkroom to desktop, and from the oceanscapes and evergreens of coastal Maine to the rolling hills and hardwood foliage of the Blue Ridge Mountains in his home state of Virginia. Meanwhile, his respect for traditional techniques and his love for the local environment seem to keep him grounded. Says Brundage, "I have come full circle."