Light is your only point of orientation.

In The Last Frame, darkness is ever-present. Candles and torches are the only tools to make spaces visible. Every light source expands your view — and simultaneously alters what is perceived.

There are no hints and no certainties. Light can reveal a path or distort it. Every decision determines what remains visible.

The more you hold on, the less remains hidden.

With each photograph, you move closer to the trace of your missing father. The images do not preserve memories — they reconstruct what was left behind.

The photographs provide direction, but they also demand attention. The longer you hold on, the harder it becomes to suppress the feeling that something is looking back.

In the end, only the last frame matters – and what remains of it.

A dense, roughly one-hour journey without detours: From the church to the deepest passages. A story told through light, space, and