The Last Sentinels: A Tribute to the Trees
For as long as I can remember, I’ve painted trees. To me, trees are not just living organisms—they are a profound connection to our past, our present, and our future. They are essential to our survival, both physically and mentally, offering solace, shade, and oxygen. Spiritually, they remind us of our roots and of the natural world’s timeless resilience.
Since moving to my current home, I’ve become deeply attuned to a small group of trees standing in the middle of a vast agricultural field, just a stone’s throw from a growing residential area. Over the seasons, I’ve watched them change—much like the crops they stand among. The subtle shifts in their form and the way they interact with the land has been a source of great joy for me. But now, as times change, the future of these trees, and many others like them across the country, seems uncertain.
It feels like the right moment to honour them.
I’ve chosen to call this series The Last Sentinels. In my mind, these trees stand as symbols of something profoundly dark about our modern relationship with the natural world. They are, in essence, guardians of something greater—the very land that is under threat from relentless urban expansion.
To me, sentinels are protectors, watchful and steadfast. The field in which these trees grow is the last piece of open land in Southbourne that hasn’t yet been earmarked for dense housing development. Despite local opposition, developers continue to encroach upon the area, carving up valuable real estate. Sadly, local councils have been unwilling to intervene or enforce existing neighborhood plans. I have little doubt that within five years, these trees will be gone.
In these paintings, I wanted to capture the strength, fragility, and grace of these magnificent beings. They stand together, side by side, as if bracing for what’s to come—both afraid and defiant. They need us, just as much as we need them. If this exhibition serves any purpose, it is to awaken those who see it to the approaching devastation and the urgent need to protect what remains of our natural spaces.
Trees are not just part of our heritage; they are a living legacy. I can only hope that we don’t lose sight of the profound impact that unrestrained urbanization will have—not just on the landscape, but on our very souls. The loss of these trees would be a loss of something irreplaceable, a final severing of our connection to the earth that sustains us.
