Roads that peter out in the middle of nowhere, buildings that no longer make sense, flotsam and jetsam that defy oblivion: Lukas Felzmann’s scenery and objects quietly and unobtrusively open up their profound symbolism in the field of tension between desire and memory, hope and pain, dream and reality. Together they form a narrative that follows its own rules, subtly carrying the viewer along on a strange journey, where broad landscapes and deep horizons become expanses onto which visions of all kinds can be projected. Uncompromisingly printed in a small format deliberately set apart from the typical coffee-table picture book, Landfall is like a literary work, an existential analysis of the truths and illusions of our civilization, or a piece of poetry full of surprising encounters, whose ambivalence requires repeated reading.