{"id":13400,"date":"2026-02-20T18:16:30","date_gmt":"2026-02-21T01:16:30","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/dh.durangoherald.com\/tj\/mancos-based-photographer-exposes-inner-light-in-new-book\/"},"modified":"2026-03-31T03:36:27","modified_gmt":"2026-03-31T03:36:27","slug":"mancos-based-photographer-exposes-inner-light-in-new-book","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/dh.durangoherald.com\/tj\/mancos-based-photographer-exposes-inner-light-in-new-book\/","title":{"rendered":"Mancos-based photographer exposes \u2018Inner Light\u2019 in new book"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"Brian
Brian Killigrew's new book, \u201cInner Light,\u201d spans 40 years and covers the diversity of his photographic work. (Courtesy of Brian Killigrew)<\/span>cca<\/span><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/p>\n

In an image titled \u201cNexus,\u201d dark material crackles and peels, flipping up and rolling over to reveal a white base. The mystery subject of the cover image of his new book \u201cInner Light\u201d is a secret Mancos-based photographer Brian Killigrew is not ready to reveal.<\/p>\n

\u201cI called it \u2018Nexus\u2019 because there\u2019s a connection I felt the second I saw the object,\u201d Killigrew said. \u201cI knew what the print was going to look like. The process was almost seamless, and that\u2019s rare.\u201d<\/p>\n

The book is a \u201cdiary\u201d covering Killigrew\u2019s photographic life over 40 years, from ominous abstracts taken in the Tinkertown Museum in Sandia Park, New Mexico, to images of steaming sulfur pits in Iceland.<\/p>\n

His instrument is a 30-year-old 4-by-5 field camera, made of brass and mahogany wood with a maroon leather bellows that stretches out like an accordion. He works with film and shoots in black and white, which he finds brings out the inner essence of his subjects and lends them unique depth.<\/p>\n

\u201cI try not to make photographs of things. I try to get the inner part \u2013 the inner essence of the thing \u2013 on paper,\u201d Killigrew said.<\/p>\n

\"After
After seeing a National Geographic special about Iceland, Killigrew traveled there to take photos. He made black-and-white images of the boiling sulfur pits. (Courtesy of Brian Killigrew)<\/span>cca<\/span><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/p>
A lifelong love affair with light, movement and meaning<\/div>\n

Killigrew\u2019s photographs transcend consistent subject matter and are rich in backstory. A harrowing accident on a photography trip to Iceland led to a poignant black-and-white photograph of a car with an inverted roof. A two-week stay at a ranch near Mancos produced a striking print of a cowboy with a cigarette hanging from his lips, the background scenery reflected in his eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cI think a great work of art is a verb. There\u2019s movement in it. It\u2019s not just a thing. It\u2019s a living thing,\u201d Killigrew said.<\/p>\n

Killigrew and his wife moved to Mancos in 2012, but his thick Bronx accent betrays his New York origins. Killigrew, who celebrated his 70th birthday last week, grew up there. One photograph in the book depicts the damaged Sphere, a sculpture that rested between the Twin Towers, with lights beaming from where the towers fell in the background.<\/p>\n

Killigrew despises terms like \u201ctaking a photo\u201d or \u201ccapturing an image.\u201d To him a photo is \u201cmade.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTo me, if I capture something, it\u2019s a wild animal,\u201d Killigrew said. \u201cI make an image out of something that\u2019s there. It\u2019s almost given to me. It\u2019s a gift.\u201d<\/p>\n

His treasured darkroom is where the magic happens. The process of developing a photo is \u201csensuous,\u201d according to Killigrew, from dipping the paper in liquid to letting it rest. He plays with exposure, saying light is the \u201clanguage of photography.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"Brian
Brian Killigrew\u2019s favorite camera is his trusty 4-by-5 field camera. The camera bears scratches and dents from its decades of use. (Ann Marie Vanderveen\/The Journal)<\/span>cca<\/span><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n
\"Brian
Brian Killigrew loves the darkroom in his Mancos home. \u201cBeing in the darkroom to me is magical,\u201d Killigrew said. \u201cThere\u2019s this blank sheet of paper and an image slowly appears.\u201d (Ann Marie Vanderveen\/The Journal)<\/span>cca<\/span><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/p>

\u201cPhotography means light writing. That\u2019s what it means in Greek,\u201d Killigrew said.<\/p>\n

One photo hanging on his wall is \u201cLisa\u2019s Roses\u201d \u2013 named for his wife. It depicts a bouquet of wilting roses, wrinkled, soft and shining lightly from the page.<\/p>\n

\u201cMost people don\u2019t think of dying roses as beautiful but I do,\u201d Killigrew said. In the book, a photograph simply titled \u201cRoses\u201d depicts bulbous fresh flowers that seem to radiate off the page.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe trick with printing these is to make them glow,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s not only flowers that glow from the prints. It\u2019s trash and glass bottles and eerie doorways. In the toughest of conditions, Killigrew searches for the glow without trepidation.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhen I have a camera in my hand or when I have a camera with me, I\u2019m pretty fearless,\u201d Killigrew said.<\/p>\n

\"Brian
Brian Killigrew\u2019s photographs of roses glow and are a favorite of some of his viewers for the way the light beams from the images. (Courtesy of Brian Killigrew)<\/span>cca<\/span><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/p>
Work shaped by danger, travel and self discovery<\/div>\n

On the infamous 1988 Iceland trip, Killigrew\u2019s two-wheel-drive car spun off the gravel road and flipped into a stream. He flew out the side window, and shattered glass cut into his neck and knees. Miraculously, he and his camera equipment survived. Instead of flying home, Killigrew rented another car and embarked on a journey later documented in the photographs and journal entries published in his book.<\/p>\n

\u201cTo touch truth seems an never ending quest, but the flashes of insight that we have must be grasped and passed on to help others along the journey,\u201d Killigrew writes in his unedited journal entries about his epiphany after Iceland. \u201cI have just realized that my photography is my \u2018Journey for Truth.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

Killigrew\u2019s first photographs were made on a 35 mm camera when he was a teenager. He enjoyed \u2013 and still enjoys \u2013 the music of the English rock band Yes, photographing their concerts when he was younger. When he discovered the work of Ansel Adams, he dropped the 35 mm and picked up a 4-by-5 camera \u2013 finding passion in nature and abstract photography.<\/p>\n

\u201cI slow down. I study things more,\u201d said Killigrew of his experience with the 4-by-5. \u201cWith a 35 millimeter, I photographed \u2013 like most people \u2013 a lot of frames. But with the big camera I photograph very few.\u201d<\/p>\n

The bigger frame allows Killigrew to take his time studying his subjects. At one point, those subjects included the Durango and Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad, where he photographed the train mechanics in solemn concentration: Sparks flying from tools became bright lines shooting from a white point, and faces became detailed portraits riddled with dark lines and shadows.<\/p>\n

\"Brian
Brian Killigrew was captured by the visual of the train running from Durango to Silverton. \u201cThe workers were great,\u201d Killigrew said and they warmed up to him after a few self-deprecating jokes. (Courtesy of Brian Killigrew)<\/span>cca<\/span><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n
\"Over
Over the course of several months, Brian Killigrew dug through almost all of his negatives to select images for the book. \u201cIt was fun finding little treasures, little negatives I had forgotten about,\u201d he said. (Ann Marie Vanderveen\/The Journal)<\/span>cca<\/span><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/p>
Life at Dancing Bear Acres and reflections at 70<\/div>\n

In his retirement, Killigrew mainly focuses on abstracts and nudes.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not squeamish about it,\u201d he said. \u201cA lot of people are self-conscious, and they don\u2019t need to be.\u201d<\/p>\n

His Mancos home, dubbed \u201cDancing Bear Acres,\u201d gives him and his wife natural beauty. The expansive mountain views outside his doorstep are rarely photographed, but often relished. So are the little birds nesting in the bushes outside his door and the deer that visit his backyard.<\/p>\n

\u201cBeauty is very important for our lives. That\u2019s why we moved out here. For the beauty,\u201d Killigrew said.<\/p>\n

Beyond photography, Killigrew said he\u2019s just \u201cgotten into texting\u201d after the book\u2019s release as loved ones reached out to express their admiration for his work.<\/p>\n

\u201cAt 70 it\u2019s good to have something to look back on because a lot of people don\u2019t make it to 70,\u201d Killigrew said. \u201cIt\u2019s made me think about how much energy I used to have and how much passion I have for photography. When I read my journals, I remember writing them. I remember the feeling.\u201d<\/p>\n

Later, in a phone call to The Journal<\/em>, Killigrew said he\u2019d been thinking about why people should buy his book. His conclusion was simple.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt will bring them joy,\u201d Killigrew said. Maybe as much joy as the process of photography brings him.<\/p>\n

Information on Killigrew\u2019s photography and book is available on his website<\/a>, https:\/\/briankilligrew.com.<\/p>\n

Copies of \u201cInner Light\u201d can be ordered by contacting Killigrew at bkilligrew@aol.com<\/a>.<\/p>\n

avanderveen@the-journal.com<\/a><\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Killigrew\u2019s new coffee table book traverses harrowing journeys and artistic discoveries<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":13401,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[],"tags":[28,29,994],"naviga_topic":[],"class_list":["post-13400","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","tag-headlines","tag-newsletter","tag-trueanthem"],"acf":[],"author_name":"dh_admin","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/dh.durangoherald.com\/tj\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13400","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/dh.durangoherald.com\/tj\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/dh.durangoherald.com\/tj\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dh.durangoherald.com\/tj\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dh.durangoherald.com\/tj\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=13400"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/dh.durangoherald.com\/tj\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13400\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":18957,"href":"https:\/\/dh.durangoherald.com\/tj\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13400\/revisions\/18957"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dh.durangoherald.com\/tj\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/13401"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/dh.durangoherald.com\/tj\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=13400"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dh.durangoherald.com\/tj\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=13400"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dh.durangoherald.com\/tj\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=13400"},{"taxonomy":"naviga_topic","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dh.durangoherald.com\/tj\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/naviga_topic?post=13400"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}