I have loved Martin Wittfooth’s work for several years now and always come back to it when I am looking to kick the old brain box into some writing action. In a metaphorical sense, Martin’s work depicts the inevitable outcome of human encroachment into every nook and cranny on this planet and our violent invasion of the environment, which in turn has created fragile habitats at risk of extinction. His work is both beautiful and confronting, and inspires a disquiet that comes from knowing that even though his concepts are illusory, they are still suffused in possibility, and we are all in one way or another contributing to this disturbing aftermath.
At their core Martin’s stunning oil paintings tell the story of a planet overrun by ape-descended carbon-based life forms that spend their days monopolising every resource and space available on this planet, though we never actually see them. Rather we see the suffering they have caused.
While Martin’s work is provocative and sometimes unsettling, it also does leave you with a faint hope that if we heed the warning signs now, instead of continuing on with our ‘get rich quick’ schemes and various insults to the environment, then there is still hope and time to change.