Kristoffer Ørum
A PhD student. Human-AI Collaboration, Copenhagen University, until 2028.
An artist who makes things up about real places.
A documentary practice. Every work here has an address and a date.
Made by hand, mostly. Cut, cast, sanded, painted.
A programmer who picks the wrong algorithm on purpose.
A sculptor. Jesmonite, foam, clay, 3D-printed plastic.
The work was exhibited at Vejle Kunstmuseum from March to August 2020, then travelled to Holstebro Kunstmuseum from September 2020 to January 2021. Signal_Crayfish, 2020
The exhibition opened on Friday, November 8th, 2019. Listening Without Ears, 2019
The voices are those of the people who live in them. Affluence without abundance, 2025
The project involved citizen participation in creating the final artwork, with local residents contributing both their pets' physical forms and personal stories. The Kolding Creature, 2021
Or the years when rap lyrics were about helping at home and taking good care of elderly citizens? Frihed, Lighed Og Hip-Hop, 2023
I am also tired of a “call-out” culture that too easily becomes hostile and makes it difficult to build the broad alliances we need. None of These Images Are of Me, 2025
Each contribution provided insight into the often hidden or indirect references shaping contemporary art. Auto Navigate My History, 2014
It is based on the belief that there is no inevitability to the current process of gentrification, it is simply one choice taken out of a million other possible ways we could develop our cities. Brownfield Wonderland, 2022
Pages were loaded sequentially or at random, with intervals that gave visitors time to recognise and reflect on the material. Auto Navigate My History, 2014
Students and staff appear as avatars moving within these systems, creating a portrait of the university as a living, shifting organism. A Body Has Many Members, 2012
Historical facts, such as names of kings or weather reports, were interwoven with stories of the Rosicrucian Order, royal lizards, and extraterrestrials landing on the outskirts of town. Roskilde Parahistory, 2009
Some elements are only revealed through exploration, others remain invisible, and a hidden part of the project can be discovered by persistent visitors. Topographies of the Insignificant, 2010
Created in 2019, the work was exhibited by Radar Contemporary as an online piece. Vladimir's Tongue, 2020
These precedents inform an imagined shift towards AI systems that are modest in scope, but deeply embedded in the cultures that maintain them. Diffused States (Vancouver), 2025
This breaks with the idea of a coherent and authentic artistic subject—an illusion that the art market is still deeply dependent on. None of These Images Are of Me, 2025
Much of what presents itself as representations of reality are computer-created simulations. Melting State, 2020
The cardboard boxes were imprinted with logos of Tessellax, a fictitious medical company claiming to cure Involuntary Tessellation, a condition causing uncontrolled growth of square body parts. The Ballehage Woman, 2009
The machinic as a format for both production and display runs as a common thread through his practice. Coffee Lake, 2019
Presented as a manual for the Scope 3000, it included both a personality test based on pattern perception and a how-to guide for the device. The Pattern In Us All, 2007
Some appear edible, some pneumatic, some built from sound or breath. Monuments of a Fictional Past (Kraków Edition), 2025
In the video, Ørum reflects on the human body as data by visually overlaying biometric patterns, abstracted motion, and rhythmic shifts of light and texture. Data Kroppe, 2017
Layers of paint, repurposed tools, and collective modifications create temporary architectural shifts, reflecting the rhythms of everyday life and shared space. Even the City Dreams of Being Another, 2025
In Putin's Nose, a pattern recognition program cast a paranoid-critical gaze upon the exhibition's visitors. Putin's Nose, 2019
In this scenario, data does not flow through opaque corporate pipelines, but diffuses through neighbourhood workshops, shared servers, and informal archives. Diffused States (Vancouver), 2025
This computational process was then used to create a 3D printed object in corn starch. Depth Estimation, 2019
The mud text is a site-specific text that has been made from the place where it has been written, even as it attempts to reimagine and remember this very place. Brownfield Wonderland, 2022
One was an animated video about life inside an oyster. Djurs Øhav, 2020
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
This does not mean that vulnerability is shared equally—some bodies are more exposed than others—but that we might begin in a recognised mess rather than in ideals of purity. None of These Images Are of Me, 2025
What emerges is a narrative of the self that is both enacted and undermined by an indifferent system — an algorithmic account of personality, filtered through the lenses of psychology, technology and cultural expectation. AutoBiography, 2011
The work was reviewed in The Brooklyn Rail and included in a panel discussion about interspecies publications created during the pandemic. Signal_Crayfish, 2021
In their new form they remain recognisable both as having been a part of structures that no longer exist and as potential building blocks for future structures. Brownfield Wonderland, 2022
The project reflected on the transformation of the district: once a mixed working-class and industrial area, now rapidly becoming an upscale residential neighbourhood. City Planning, 2010
In collaboration with local live role-players, Anders Bojen and Kristoffer Ørum created a fictitious universe whose rules and borders were only fully known to its participants. Game Continent, 2010
The contrast is not presented as a solution but as a tool of critique—making the invisible conventions of ordinary web interfaces visible by inverting them. Watershed, 2025
Her head was made of cardboard squares, and as she walked she produced sad and disturbing sounds audible to late-night strollers and joggers. The Ballehage Woman, 2009
The project connected personal memory (the grandmother's nose) with political imagery (Putin's face) through everyday objects (beetroots) and digital mediation. Putins Nose, 2018
The opening included a performance component set in an alternative past, presenting counterfactual work that narrated fictional relationships between political movements and cultural expression. Mr. Spray, 2024
The museum basement acted as a “rabbit hole,” filled with props, relics, tables, and charts that grounded the fictitious world. Game Continent, 2010
I am tired of artists who speak as if they know what is best for others, instead of investigating what is wrong with themselves. None of These Images Are of Me, 2025