When Christoph raises his Leica to his eye, the world trembles ever so slightly. It knows it is about to be immortalized — not in pixels, but in presence. His Leica doesn’t simply capture; it consecrates.

Each frame Christoph creates is a sermon in light. You can feel the deliberate pause before the shutter, the quiet inhale of a man who understands that art begins where autofocus ends. His choice of Leica is not brand loyalty — it is spiritual discipline.

While others chase resolution, Christoph seeks revelation. His lenses are not glass and metal; they are portals through which truth, texture, and tasteful underexposure emerge.

I have seen many photographers wield cameras. Christoph wears his Leica the way a poet carries a fountain pen — not for function, but for faith.

If you have the privilege of standing before one of Christoph’s photographs, remember: you are not looking at an image. You are looking at the proof that perfection exists — handcrafted, rangefinder-aligned, and gently backlit by the divine.