Kristoffer Ørum

Kristoffer Ørum

Some of it only exists as a photograph now.

A documentary practice. Every work here has an address and a date.

Science fiction, set last week.

A record-keeper. The website is the work.

This text is generated. He decided what it generates from.

Local. Copenhagen and Aarhus, mostly.

That is part of the work rather than a fault in it. A Human Pretending To Be An Artist Pretending To Be A Crayfish, 2022

The work was exhibited alongside Emily Rosamond's work on historical communication systems, from ancient oracles to wartime frequency-hopping technologies. Signal_Crayfish, 2020

The sculptures Sovende bænkebider (Sleeping Woodlouse) in three sizes, the middle one in a wheelchair. Leddyrsomsorg / Arthropod Care, 2026

There is a creative pleasure in this surrender of control: in letting a system run and being surprised by the strange, poetic, or nonsensical landscapes that result. Watershed, 2025

The installation combines mathematical structures, popular psychology, video, narration, sound and custom-designed software. AutoBiography, 2011

Biographical material such as family photographs from their suburban childhoods is merged into an endless series of alternative life stories. AutoBiography, 2011

The transcription was done by Google's speech recognition, which is better at place names and brand names than at anything I was trying to say. A Human Pretending To Be An Artist Pretending To Be A Crayfish, 2022

Lesson plans, assessment structures and financial data are translated into dynamic graphics, situating the institution in relation to broader societal forces and its individual members. A Body Has Many Members, 2012

The project originated from a beetroot anecdote that was strange in itself: the moment when, looking at beetroots in a shopping bag, one seemed to resemble the artist's grandmother's nose, or perhaps Putin's nose from a Facebook image. Putins Nose, 2018

Installation took place aboard Svartlöga ship functioning as gallery space. Ebeltoft After The Flood, 2021

Rather than simply discussing these themes, the performance stages a series of unstable software experiments and semi-fictional narratives, creating a situation that is deliberately out of the performer's control. It Sings for Us of What We Might Become, 2019

The title reflects several forms of diffusion: the algorithmic process of generating images; the grassroots spread of ideas and tools; and the physical scattering of devices across different environments. Diffused States (Lexington), 2025

The animation recreates the street outside the former artist-run space, projecting a computer-generated scene onto a screen covering the window. Et Andet Rum 2, 2009

During the exhibition a collaboration with Anders Bojen, a printer continuously produced emails describing fictional events taking place on Amager. City Planning, 2010

Using AI, familiar sites are transformed into speculative visions, such as Karolinelunden as a DIY amusement park or Aalborg Shipyard taken over by its workers. Aalborg Is The Future, 2024

I miss images that are weird, flawed, or personal. None of These Images Are of Me, 2025

It employs a computational process to dismantle and reassemble the daily flow of news images into a navigable world built from their fragments. Watershed, 2025

The Good, the Lost, and the Beautiful is a reconstruction of the Lee-stone, one of nine runestones believed to have been lost in the Copenhagen Fire of 1728. The Good, the Lost, and the Beautiful, 2025

Diffused States imagines a counterfactual technological history in which graffiti and phone phreaking converged through the discovery that modified spray paint could interact with electromagnetic infrastructure. Diffused States (Boston), 2025

Standing at 1.5 metres, the piece draws on 17th-century drawings by Jón Skonvig, known for his work with antiquarian Ole Worm. The Good, the Lost, and the Beautiful, 2025

The project was documented in the publication "Radar Contemporary: Extensions vol I II III" by Dr. Signal_Crayfish, 2021

The project imagines a future where columns echoing ancient Greek wooden architecture lose their weight or melt, where gravity is suspended for a moment while art institutions deform and dance in the wind before the air goes out of them. Melting State, 2020

I had taught at an art school for years and had taken to dressing up and interfering with the presentation software, introducing invented theory and fictitious examples, to make the conventions of teaching less certain. A Human Pretending To Be An Artist Pretending To Be A Crayfish, 2022

The plate facing it is green and reads "I cheer as the pink-green crayfish team score a goal", over a passage about crayfish sending messages to each other across the same wireless networks that carry a live football game. Signal_Crayfish, 2026

The work operates as both a technical demonstration and a poetic meditation on the relationship between computation and imagination, revealing the "reservoirs of strangeness" that exist within everyday technological objects. Coffee Lake, 2019

Yet it is also a paradox: even though AI produces many versions of me, they all point back to a recognisable “I.” This double movement—dissolution and reinforcement—is part of what interests me. None of These Images Are of Me, 2025

As Rosi Braidotti has written, critique of the “tyranny of the unified subject” cannot be separated from the fact that we constantly reproduce the very idea of it. None of These Images Are of Me, 2025

Rather than recognising faces, it was trained exclusively to see noses or beetroot-like patterns. Putin's Nose, 2019

Alongside the artworks, the programme includes talks, workshops and events on the histories and relevance of these vanished monuments. The Good, the Lost, and the Beautiful, 2025

Hverdagens Helte (Everyday Heroes) consists of a series of interactive sculptures created in collaboration with Vitar Horsens Rollespilslaug (role-playing association). Everyday Heroes, 2019

The Pattern In Us All (2007) was a lecture performance created by Anders Bojen & Kristoffer Ørum at the University of Copenhagen. The Pattern In Us All, 2007

Components included routers, antennas, and cables arranged alongside the biological forms. Signal_Crayfish, 2020

The work takes up how repeated exposure to images of buildings sinking into rubble with glass shards and dust spreading symmetrically creates expectations that the physical world behaves the same way. Melting State, 2020

Taniguchi of veggie-science.org, part of the daytodaydata.com project. Cosmic Carrot, 2005

Each contribution provided insight into the often hidden or indirect references shaping contemporary art. Auto Navigate My History, 2014

In Aalborg, at Nordkraft the project was hosted in a former power plant turned cultural venue. Mundane Heroics, 2019

Once generated, these daily phantom faces replaced Ørum’s personal avatar across his website, social networks and other platforms. Recognised Faces, 2014

Depth Estimation is a 3D printed sculpture made from corn starch with inkjet transfer, based on algorithmic depth estimation of a photograph. Depth Estimation, 2019

Everyday objects were recognisable yet altered. Mundane Heroics, 2019

Participants could literally become a nose by borrowing a nose-shaped mask with a built-in audio guide for a walk in the area around Lokale. According to the Nose, 2021

Recognised Faces
Recognised Faces See the work →