The Art of Silence: A Case Study of Mr. Brown Photography and the Mastery of Minimalist Portraiture explores the profound impact of simplicity in visual storytelling.
We live in a world full of distractions; it’s easy to get lost in the noise. But for Bruin Feskens, better known as Mr. Brown, life is all about cutting through the chaos and finding clarity. His minimalist portraiture has a way of transforming the overwhelming into something serene, giving viewers a rare opportunity to slow down, reflect, and truly connect. His work transports you into a quiet moment where silence tells the story.
Based in South Africa but with roots in Amsterdam, Bruin’s creative journey started young. His mother, a commercial photographer, introduced him to the world of image-making. Growing up, he was surrounded by the hum of film sets, the glow of studio lights, and the vibrant energy of creative people. It wasn’t long before Bruin found himself working in the lighting department of TV commercial studios. At that time, he was sure his future lay in film.
But life has a way of surprising us. When he began dividing his time between Cape Town and Amsterdam, he started exploring photography more seriously. Something about the stillness of black-and-white photography drew him in, offering a form of expression he couldn’t find in film. After trying out different styles, he discovered his voice in minimalist portraiture.
Bruin’s work is all about intention and balance. He uses negative space, abstraction, and monochrome to create portraits that feel honest and raw. His images aren’t flashy or loud; they’re quiet, almost meditative. They pull you in and make you stop to really see the person in front of the lens. It’s this understated power that sets his work apart.
Inspired by ideas like wabi-sabi, the beauty in imperfection, and ikigai, the Japanese concept of purpose, he approaches his art with a sense of mindfulness. Every shadow, every angle, and every space in his photographs is there for a reason. His portraits capture stories, emotions, and moments that feel universal yet deeply personal.
For Bruin, minimalism is a way of challenging how we think about creativity. In a time and age that often values spectacle, his work is an example that beauty doesn’t have to shout to be heard, a very easygoing ideology. This perspective has had a profound impact on other creatives and photographers, especially those struggling to find their place in a world saturated with trends and quick fixes.
His work shows aspiring photographers that they don’t need elaborate setups or gimmicks to create something meaningful. It’s about stripping away the noise and focusing on what really matters: the story, the emotion, the connection. For those who feel overwhelmed by the pressure to do more, here is your motivation.
In this exclusive interview, he shares his journey, from growing up to finding his voice as a minimalist photographer. He talks about how his approach to mystery and identity is helping him forge deeper connections with his audience and why sometimes, the quietest moments leave the biggest impact.
Trende: Hello Bruin, Welcome to the Trende family; we are glad to have you share your beautiful story with us. From observation, your photography often relies heavily on negative space and minimalism. How do you feel silence, or the absence of noise, enhances the storytelling in your portraits?
It’s a pleasure to meet you, and I’m truly grateful for this opportunity. I’m excited to be here!
For me, the balance and composition in every piece are essential. Each work is a unique journey, some more intricate than others. Inspired by the philosophy of Wabi-sabi, I’ve come to embrace the beauty in imperfection, finding harmony in the organic and unexpected.
I aim for my art to act as a lens or window, inviting viewers to see the world from a fresh perspective. By thoughtfully balancing space and form, I guide the observer’s gaze, steering them gently toward the emotions and narratives I wish to convey.
Trende: Wow, that sounds quite intriguing. Again, abstraction and hidden elements are a recurring theme in your work, with many subjects partially obscured or captured from unconventional angles. What are you hoping to convey to the viewer through this sense of mystery?
I have a deep appreciation for obscuring faces in my work because it transforms my subjects into something more universal, more “people” than “person.” In my mind, they exist as faceless beings, like shadow figures, devoid of distinct details. This approach allows the images to become relatable to everyone, inviting viewers to project their own identities or experiences onto the subjects.
In a way, these portraits are anonymous, intentionally crafted to represent anyone. I’m also drawn to the allure of mystery. For mystery to be compelling, it must spark curiosity, raising questions that pull the observer in. My goal is to weave that intrigue into each image, encouraging viewers to look deeper, to find their own meaning within the visual story.
Trende: Looking at your body of work, there seems to be an evolution in how you engage with the concept of identity. How has your vision of identity shifted from when you first started to now, and what has influenced these changes?
When I first began creating photos, I was captivated by silhouettes and paintings of people facing away from the viewer. Yet, my focus wasn’t on what inspired me; I was constantly trying to predict what others might like or want. Despite my efforts, I could never quite figure it out. Rejection after rejection from modelling agencies left me frustrated until one pivotal moment when I decided that enough was enough. From that day forward, I committed to creating for myself, focusing on what I loved and found beautiful.
Around that time, I discovered the concept of wabi-sabi, which led me to ikigai. These ideas profoundly shifted my perspective, teaching me to create and live with intention. I realised that art is most powerful when it aligns with one’s true purpose, and for me, this was it, my ikigai.
Trende: That is absolutely a relatable transition. Monochrome photography has a timeless and emotional depth to it. What draws you to this medium, and how do you think it communicates emotions differently from colour photography?
Before I ventured into photography, I was deeply immersed in learning cinematography, and that’s when I encountered colour grading for the first time. It was a pivotal moment. I struggled to remove subtle hints of red and green from the footage, colours I couldn’t even distinguish clearly. That’s when I discovered I’m slightly colour-blind.
I experimented with colour photography while learning, but no matter how much I tried, the hues never felt quite right. Eventually, I found solace in black-and-white and monochrome photography. In that space, I realised something important: I had more control over what I wanted people to see.
Black-and-white photography offers viewers a level playing field. Their attention isn’t drawn by vibrant hues but by form, contrast, and composition. Colour often conveys emotion instantly, guiding the viewer’s response. But when you strip that away, you’re left with a unique challenge: to evoke emotion through light, shadow, and texture. This subtlety encourages the observer to linger longer, seeking the story hidden within the shades of grey.
Trende: In much of your work, there’s a sense that the subject’s identity is amplified through minimalism. How do you approach working with your subjects to ensure they feel empowered and seen through your lens?
I believe that what draws people to the concept of beauty is often an emotional connection, something deeper than surface aesthetics. It’s the longing to be truly seen for who we are.
In the studio, I strive to capture that truth with all honesty. My goal is to reveal the essence of each individual, thoughtfully choosing which aspects to highlight and which to leave for the observer to fill in. Like in cinema, where not every moment or action is shown, my work invites viewers to engage their imagination. There’s a quiet power in what’s left unsaid, a recognition that much can be understood by simply observing with an honest eye. My photographs are rarely about the individual subject alone. They’re not meant to make the observer wonder who the subject is, but rather to inspire a sense of self-acceptance. The subjects in my work embody the idea that who they are, in their natural state, is beautiful. By participating in these art pieces, they not only embrace their own authenticity but also empower others. They become representations of all of us, which is subtle yet powerful, mysterious yet familiar.
Ultimately, I believe this process allows them to feel truly seen. In being unapologetically themselves, they experience the freedom and power that comes from embracing their own truth.
Trende: Your work has often been compared to sculpture, with its emphasis on form and structure. Do you draw inspiration from other art forms or movements when composing your portraits? If so, which ones have had the most influence on you?
I find inspiration everywhere, from the texture of a leaf to the way ice cubes float in my drink, lol. It’s those everyday moments that fuel my creativity. I tend to rely on intuition, that gut feeling we all share. Sometimes, we’re drawn to something without fully understanding why. And that’s okay. Art doesn’t always need a detailed explanation to resonate. Requiring deep knowledge of art movements or theories can take away from the simple, immersive joy of experiencing something new. That said, there are things that inspire me daily, helping me learn in ways that feel universal and accessible:
Paintings, the old masters, Ideologies like wabi-sabi & ikigai, the Sabattier effect/solarisation, silver grey/dark look, and inverting of dark & light, Films, writing, & video games: I absolutely love getting inspired by stories like films and games.
These influences shape my creative process, allowing me to explore ideas that feel both deeply personal and universally relatable.
Trende: How do you hope viewers engage with your photographs? What emotions or thoughts do you want to evoke as they contemplate the subjects you present?
I hope they gain a glimpse of how I see the world, as you mentioned. A different perspective can often make a big difference, even if it’s just a gentle reminder to pause and truly observe the world around us. To remember that we are all part of a shared experience. How simplicity can be both beautiful and powerful. Sometimes, the simplest things tell the most profound stories for those willing to look closely and feel deeply. Most of all, I hope it brings them a sense of calm, yeah, just calm.
Trende: Minimalism is often misunderstood as simple,’ but your work shows a complexity beneath the surface. What challenges do you face in creating minimalistic images that still hold deep emotional weight?
The main challenge for me has been finding the right balance between pre-visualisation and spontaneity. I thrive on creative freedom, and in-the-moment spontaneity is essential when working with minimalism. It allows the artwork to feel alive, as though it has a story waiting to be discovered by those willing to listen. Initially, I felt a sense of guilt for not planning enough, believing that if I created more structured ideas, I could improve. However, the results felt lifeless, like mannequins carefully positioned but lacking soul, because my spontaneity had been lost.
Once I found that balance, everything began to fall into place. I now begin with a theme, like “texture” or “fabric,” and keep it in mind throughout brainstorming and shooting. Once I’ve internalised that theme as a creative habit, I add another, gradually building a mental checklist.
This approach helps me maintain depth in my work. It prevents the art from feeling flat, ensuring that even the simplest pieces carry layers of complexity. Each layer contributes richness and dimension, making the final work both minimalist and multifaceted, capable of engaging the viewer in unexpected ways.
Trende: As an artist, what emotions do you go through while creating these deeply intimate portraits? Is there a particular mindset you need to be in to produce such emotive work?
When I create, I become my own harshest critic. It’s as if I split into two, one part the maker, the other the critic, judging my work as though it were not my own. I often let my ideas hibernate, giving them ample time to evolve. I jot down thoughts in my notebook for days, sometimes longer, before everything finally comes together. I need to be in the right frame of mind to work. I don’t like forcing creativity; I prefer to let it flow naturally, like water. There are emotions I strive to capture, and if I’m not fully aligned with them, I fear missing the subtleties that make the work authentic. This process varies depending on what I’m creating.
For instance, if I’m planning a piece that conveys loss, I immerse myself in understanding that feeling or at least try to. Yet, when I’m shooting, the mood is entirely different: I’m filled with joy. Shoots are vibrant, full of smiles, music, and good energy. It’s usually just the subject (often a model), my girlfriend assisting, and me behind the camera.
This year marks an exciting new chapter. In November, I had an exhibition at the Youngblood Gallery on Bree Street in Cape Town. In this series, titled Nine, my muse takes centre stage in every photo. The project is inspired by the nine daughters of Zeus, the goddesses of inspiration, who had temples dedicated to their creative influence.
Trende: Where do you see your work evolving next? Are there new themes or styles you’re interested in exploring that push the boundaries of what you’ve done so far?
I’m planning to start a new series that will incorporate colour in a unique way. I’m thinking of adding a specific colour, like yellow or red, to particular parts of each piece and using that colour to create a connection between them. Alternatively, I might link the colours to emotions, guiding the story of each individual piece. In this case, each artwork in the series would have its own distinct streak of colour, setting it apart from the others.
As for my current work, I feel that what I’m doing can be reinterpreted in many different ways, and I’m excited by the endless possibilities I’ve yet to explore. There’s a lot of potential, and I have so many ideas scribbled in my notebook, just waiting for the right moment to experiment with or feel a deeper connection to. I’ve also been considering creating photo books, and I feel like I have a clear vision of what I want to do with that.
But, for now, that time hasn’t come yet! Haha.
Trende: Every portrait seems to tell a story, even when much of the subject’s face is obscured. Do you approach each shoot with a specific narrative in mind, or do you allow the story to emerge organically during the process?
What I usually have in mind is more of an essence or aura, an atmosphere I aim to evoke. My experience working on various film sets, from student films to commercial TVCs and even a TV series, has taught me a lot about lighting and camera work. One key lesson that has stayed with me is the understanding that no matter how meticulously you plan, things rarely go exactly as expected. Often, the unexpected moments turn out to be some of the best parts of the final result. It’s always amusing to hear this from people who work on sets where every minute is planned down to the last detail. I may have mentioned this earlier, so I hope I’m not repeating myself.
The balance in my photos is incredibly important to me. I pay close attention to the smallest details, like how I use a ribbon or how the light strikes the subject. However, for the most part, I leave room for spontaneity with a purposeful guiding structure. This spontaneity helps add complexity to the otherwise simple nature of minimalism.
Trende: Do you feel your photography is a reflection of your personal experiences or emotions? How much of ‘Bruin the person’ is in the work we see on Mr. Brown Photography?
There are stories I try to tell through my photos, but I don’t always want to speak them aloud. The true test for me is whether I can convey it all with little to no explanation. A perfect example of this was the email from the Trende team with their questions. I had never experienced anything like it before. For the first time, I felt truly seen in the work I create and share.
A wave of deep gratitude washed over me. It felt as if the people viewing my work were truly understanding me. As far as I’m concerned, I pour every bit of myself into my art.
Trende: Oh, wow, that was truly emotional. We love you, Bruin. In an era where digital imagery is consumed rapidly, how do you ensure your work holds the viewer’s attention and invites deeper reflection? What role do you think slow observation plays in appreciating art today?
I haven’t made many Instagram Reels or engaged much with short-form content, so I don’t typically focus on it. While I understand the pressure to succeed on social media, like many others, I try to let my work speak for itself in the real world. Having followers and likes doesn’t necessarily translate into more work for me. In fact, it often hasn’t made a difference. In my experience, showcasing work in physical spaces has a much greater impact. People engage with it more deeply, taking the time to really observe and reflect. They might even consider buying it for their home. So, if possible, I believe it’s better to focus on real-life achievements and growth. The digital presence will follow as long as the story is authentic and meaningful.
Personally, I steer clear of consuming too much short-form content. I often feel empty after engaging with it, even though it’s easy to get drawn into. I prefer content that makes sense and holds more substance. There seems to be a disconnect between real content, where interactions may be fewer but more meaningful, and the constant stream of superficial engagements in the digital world. It’s similar to how having many followers on Instagram doesn’t always equate to anything more than a number.
Trende: This one is a very interesting one. What does black-and-white photography allow you to express that colour photography cannot? How does it change the emotional or psychological impact of an image?
Working in black-and-white allows me to focus on my style and creative intentions without the distractions of colour. It helps maintain consistency across my work, enabling me to meet the high standards I set for myself. I believe the energy and approach I bring to this process significantly influence the final outcome.
Personally, I’m not the best at differentiating certain colours, so black-and-white gives me the confidence and clarity I need. Once I accepted this limitation, I gained a deeper understanding of photography and have seen tremendous growth in my craft. In black-and-white, I feel a strong connection to what I’m doing; I can see and appreciate all the layers. That same sense of understanding doesn’t quite translate when I work with coloured images. I believe this difference is reflected in the final product. When I aim to create something thought-provoking, it’s evident that layers of work and intentionality have gone into the piece.
Releasing myself from the constraints of colour has opened up aspects of photography I hadn’t noticed before, details and elements I had never fully paid attention to.
Trende: Your work leaves a lot to the viewer’s imagination, encouraging personal interpretations. How do you navigate the balance between guiding your audience and leaving space for their individual perspectives?
Yes, it really does. I genuinely want people to try to do that. When I observe my own photos on the computer, I focus on identifying the areas in the image where my eye is naturally drawn.
This creates mental “points,” almost like a “connect the dots” exercise. It helps me decide which photos are strong and which ones aren’t. I think of the eye line as a hidden path guiding the observer. While I strive to achieve this sense of guidance, I’m not always sure how often I succeed (haha). I once made a short film while I was still learning about filmmaking, directing, and cinematography. A crucial part of finding the right balance and pacing for a story comes from deciding what to show and what to leave out. I approach my creative process with this mindset: Is it necessary to include this or that element? Does it enhance the story or make it more convoluted? Most importantly, would the observer still reach the same conclusions or emotions without it?
Trende: You’ve really done amazing things, so looking at the body of work you’ve created, what legacy do you hope to leave behind as a photographer? What do you hope your art will contribute to the broader world of photography and beyond?
Thank you so much! I like to think that I’m not quite old yet, so I haven’t given it too much thought. My dream is for my art to fill homes around the world, bringing something meaningful into people’s lives. I’m already incredibly grateful for the love and appreciation that people have shown toward my work, and I’m excited to see what the future holds. This November, I had the opportunity to exhibit my new piece, “Nine,” which I’m really excited about. I hope to continue creating and sharing my art for many years to come.
Trende: What words do you have for the Trende team before you leave?
Dear Trende,
I would like to extend my heartfelt thanks to the entire team for your incredible work and for your interest in collaborating with me. I am truly grateful for this opportunity and for allowing me to be a part of the Trende family. Thank you once again.
We close this chapter of The Art of Silence: A Case Study of Mr. Brown Photography and the Mastery of Minimalist Portraiture, and we hope you find meaning in these quiet spaces of expression.
nothing is permanent
nothing is finished
nothing is perfect
I show beauty without a face
something away from lust
an expression of the moment
I believe in our strength
that we are capable of more
to free the mind and let the body create
that a part of beauty is honesty
free from the bondage of restrictions
true creativity in a grainy silence
creating a new-old world
with the absence of disturbances
nothing is changeless
nothing is flawless
nothing is absolute