This landscape by Henri Beau centres on two trees that feel almost like companions.

The larger tree stands in the foreground, rooted and assured, its trunk dark and deeply modelled. It rises in a broad, arching canopy, drawn in rich charcoal and softened with pale highlights. Just behind it, slightly to the left, a second tree leans into its presence. That tree is lighter, more delicate, partially veiled in shadow, as if it’s answering rather than declaring.

Between them, Beau creates a quiet conversation. The heavier, older form in front feels protective; the slighter tree behind feels attentive. Their branches echo each other’s shapes, and the space between them becomes the heart of the drawing.

Around them, low hills roll gently across the middle ground, and smaller trees gather at a distance like onlookers. The toned paper glows through the drawing, warm and muted, while chalk touches catch pockets of light and air.

Henri Beau isn’t just recording a place. He’s staging a relationship: strength and grace, age and youth, presence and reflection — two trees sharing the same ground.