Vild Emil af Thomas Dambo Travel Guide

Vild Emil lies dozing in the middle of Tinkerdal Skov, a commercial-style forest where the trees stand in neat, almost military rows. The contrast is deliberate: this wild-looking troll, with his long limbs and tousled features, interrupts the order of the plantation like a playful secret. Measuring roughly two metres high and seven metres long, he feels impressively large when you finally step into his clearing.Created from reclaimed wood and branches, Emil curls up in a nest of spruce trunks and twigs. From some angles you only glimpse a hand, a foot or part of his face through the trees, which makes finding him feel like stumbling upon a creature from a Nordic folktale. Children scramble onto his arms and adults circle slowly, taking in the textures of weathered planks and twisted roots.

Vild Emil is part of artist Thomas Dambo’s ever-growing family of giant trolls scattered across Denmark and around the world. Built mainly from recycled pallets, scrap wood and storm-felled branches, they are designed as both sculptures and storytelling tools, encouraging visitors to see discarded materials as something with new life. In Tinkerdal, Emil’s body is a collage of uneven boards, visible screws and patchwork patterns that celebrate imperfection.Local volunteers helped assemble the troll on site, turning the project into a community effort rather than a simple art commission. Municipal support and local foundations backed the build, underscoring how strongly this kind of accessible, free culture is woven into the region’s identity. Each troll has its own story, and here the tale plays with the idea of wilderness in a forest that is anything but wild on paper.

In the story behind Vild Emil, the forest is carefully planted in straight lines, with little room for chaos or surprise. For a free-spirited troll, that kind of order feels unnatural. Emil’s response is to carve out a nest of branches where he can rest, dream and reclaim a corner of the forest for wildness. The sculpture becomes a gentle, humorous critique of how landscapes are managed and shaped.As you walk between the trunks, the narrative starts to feel tangible. The ground is soft with needles, light filters through the spruce canopy in narrow beams, and then the troll suddenly appears—big, barefoot and blissfully asleep. It is easy to imagine him waking after dark, stretching his wooden limbs and padding quietly between the rows of trees.

Reaching Vild Emil involves a short walk on forest tracks, which is part of the fun. Families turn it into a treasure hunt, following paths and peering between tree lines until the troll reveals himself. The approach is generally gentle, making it suitable for most visitors with basic mobility, though roots, mud and uneven surfaces are part of the experience after rain.Once at the sculpture, people linger. Some sit on the edge of Emil’s nest, others pose for imaginative photos, framing the troll’s expressive face or his enormous hands. The atmosphere is relaxed and unhurried; there is no ticket booth or fence, just the sense of being a guest in a shared woodland playground.

The character of Vild Emil shifts subtly with the seasons. In summer, the forest feels lush and green, with birdsong and the resin scent of spruce hanging in the warm air. In autumn, fallen needles and mist give the scene a more mysterious, almost cinematic tone. Winter’s low light throws strong shadows across the troll’s body, highlighting the geometry of his wooden panels.Early in the day or towards evening, when the forest is quiet, the sculpture can feel surprisingly intimate despite its size. You become aware of small details: the grain of different boards, the way branches weave into the nest, the playful tilt of Emil’s head. Tinkerdal Skov is not a dramatic wilderness, but this single artwork transforms it into a place where imagination and nature meet in a simple, memorable way.