Martin was born on March 17, 1994, in the hills above Lyon, France.
His parents enrolled him in gymnastics at an early age. Because the leotard suited him well and he showed strong physical abilities, he decided to find his place in this acrobatic and artistic sport. He spent his youth in a rural area of Burgundy, continuing to train at a small local gymnastics club where he repeatedly tested the limits of the practice floor.
Alongside gymnastics, he developed a strong interest in the accordion, which he has played since the age of seven.
At school, he excelled in scientific subjects—he once wanted to become an astronaut because of The Little Prince. However, he naturally entered a literature track with a specialization in visual arts. Despite rarely holding a pencil (except for imperfect coloring), he discovered a passion for art in all its forms and began exploring every possible means of expression. Around this time, he also enrolled in contemporary dance classes.
After his baccalaureate, he left his family home to pursue applied arts in Lyon, aiming to work in spatial design. After failing his first year of a BTS program in that field, and continuing to train obsessively in his childhood gymnastics hall, he decided to abandon his early career path as a designer.
One day in December 2013, a friend told him about circus arts. This world was unknown to him but immediately intrigued him. He began researching, watching performances, and discovering names such as Le Cri du caméléon, the Centre national des arts du cirque, and the wider world of contemporary circus. He became certain: this was what he needed.
He applied to the joint ENACR/CNAC program as well as the École des Beaux-Arts of Saint-Étienne. He was accepted into both schools and chose without hesitation to join the big top of the École nationale des arts du cirque de Rosny-sous-Bois, where he met Johannes, a hand-to-hand base artist, and Hanneke, a flyer.
The three of them quickly fell in love with the sensations of flight, last-second catches, and chalk dust. It reminded him of gymnastics, but without the discipline and tiny shorts. They decided to form an unusual trio united by a single apparatus: the Korean cradle. Their journey continued at the CNAC, where Hanneke eventually left to pursue music; the trio came to an end.
Now working as a duo, they continue to explore, refine their circus technique, and attempt to tell their stories. Their shared path is only just beginning, and they hope to continue in this “plan B” that is the life of an artist—always aiming to speak, to tell, to show, and to reach the audiences they deeply care about.