The Sentinel Trees — Minimalism in Romania
The Sentinels, Romania
Two dead trees stand upright on a high ridge, long after the forest around them has moved on.
They are not landmarks or memorials, but they feel watchful — as if they are still holding their ground.
I began to think of them not as trees, but as sentinels: quiet witnesses to time, weather, and endurance.
What held me was not the landscape, but the relationship between the two forms.
They weren’t symmetrical. One leaned, one stood straighter.
Together, they felt less like objects and more like presence.
Minimalism in this work is not about emptiness,
but about clarity—allowing only what matters to remain.
Minimalism in photography isn’t about removing things for the sake of it.
It’s about deciding what matters — and being willing to let everything else become quiet.
I removed foreground distractions so the trees could stand on their own.
I chose black and white to prioritise form over colour.
I resisted dramatic contrast so the image could remain still
In colour, the image asked too many questions — about warmth, sky, and landscape.
In black and white, those questions fell away.
What remained was form, light, and gesture and black and white told that story.
The longer I work with photography, the more I realise that minimalism isn’t about doing less.
It’s about listening longer — and trusting that one clear idea is enough.
