There are trolls in the woods. Not the kind that lurk under bridges or, thankfully, in comment sections, but massive, looming figures built from wooden pallets, discarded furniture, and the occasional wine barrel. As reported by the Associated Press, Danish artist Thomas Dambo is the architect behind this global troll invasion—a sprawling, whimsical crusade not just for art, but for our collective environmental conscience.
A Global Army on the Forest Floor
Dambo, whose creative background weaves through poetry and hip-hop before settling into sculpture, started constructing these troll sculptures twelve years ago. The outlet documents that, since then, he and his team have installed 170 gentle giants across more than twenty countries and twenty-one U.S. states. If you’re the type to keep lists, you might need a second spreadsheet.
These trolls are crafted from what most people would label unusable scraps: splintered pallets, battered chairs, and wine barrels that once saw better days. According to the AP report, some of these wooden colossi reach up to forty feet tall. The result is a curious hybrid—simultaneously ancient and resolutely DIY, as though fairytale creatures crashed a construction site.
Their reach is dizzyingly wide. Dambo’s creations now dot landscapes from the forests of California to the grasslands of South Korea. The project even carries a purposefully grandiose title: “Trail of a Thousand Trolls.” Earlier in the report, it’s mentioned that Dambo and his crew currently construct about twenty-five new trolls annually, showing a determination that rivals the global persistence of environmental waste itself.
Trash with a Backstory (and an Agenda)
Each troll isn’t just a sculpture, but a personality with a narrative. At the historic estate Filoli—described in the AP piece as a 650-acre property of forests and gardens in Woodside, California—an installation called “Trolls Save the Humans” introduces six distinct new residents. The outlet also notes that Ibbi Pip builds birdhouses, Rosa Sunfinger plants flowers, and Kamma Can fashions jewelry from garbage. These aren’t faceless props; they’re vivid characters made to invite a second glance (or maybe a backstory brainstorming session).
Filoli CEO Kara Newport, as cited in the report, believes these installations inspire people to imagine their own woodland myths. The idea is less about literal belief in trolls and more about reconnecting visitors to the wonders—mythical or real—that might lurk just out of sight.
Dambo imbues his work with a curious narrative twist. According to details in the AP article, the trolls are skeptical of humans, having supposedly witnessed generations squandering resources. However, the six youthful Filoli trolls maintain a hopeful outlook, aiming to teach visitors better environmental stewardship—if only to spare us from being devoured by their more cynical elders. Dambo, 45, is quoted as saying, “They want to save the humans. So they do this by teaching them how to be better humans — be humans that don’t destroy nature.” A gentle form of mythological intervention, perhaps, spiced with a streak of dark fairy tale logic.
Making Trash Talk
Dambo’s approach to materials is staunchly practical. As he remarked from his Copenhagen farm, “We are drowning in trash. But we also know that one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.” The Associated Press highlights that nearly all trolls are assembled from locally sourced materials, with construction aided by a team of craftsmen, artists, and an army of enthusiastic local volunteers. There’s a clear message: public art, especially at this scale, can be a direct byproduct of a community’s leftovers.
The scale of engagement is notable. Dambo told the outlet that his exhibitions draw four and a half million visitors globally each year—a testament, in his view, to the power of upcycling and the potential of collaborative creativity. If the ultimate proof of concept is getting people to rethink what ends up in landfills, four million pairs of eyes can’t hurt.
Giants with a Greener Mission
Disguised as monumental woodland guardians, Dambo’s trolls are, at their core, an exercise in patchwork optimism. As previously reported, their purpose isn’t simply to decorate a hiking trail or grace a garden path. Instead, they nudge visitors (and, in all likelihood, their Instagram followers) to consider the layered stories—sometimes surprisingly beautiful—hidden in the refuse of everyday life.
This blending of folklore and eco-action is hardly new. Cultures have long sent warnings in the form of giants and monsters. But Dambo’s version leans more towards encouragement than threat—a forty-foot invitation to imagine how we might do better by nature, starting with what we usually throw away. After all, if trolls built from trash are pulling for us, perhaps there’s hope yet for humanity to pull itself out of its own detritus. It’s hard not to wonder: Which is the bigger myth, trolls in the forest, or modern people choosing not to waste?
