Kristoffer Ørum
An archive with gaps in it, kept by the person who made the gaps.
An artist who makes things up about real places.
Comedy.
Most of it was built on other people's work.
Works with animals that have not agreed to it.
Digital art.
The work proposes a less apocalyptic demise where representative buildings don't explode and crash into computer-generated rubble, but instead lose their weight, melt, or are covered with colourful hair. Melting State, 2020
Rather than illustrating a lost history, the project manipulates familiar visual tropes and embraces the productive errors of AI. Aarhus'er #1, 2025
The objects were fabricated by hand, with airbrushed surfaces and traces of manual production visible on the casts. Invisible Objects, 2016
Each email contained a unique, computer-generated text announcing fictional construction projects — ranging from the plausible to the fantastic. City Planning, 2010
As a result, it is now defunct and can no longer be accessed in its original form. Topographies of the Insignificant, 2010
The project examined the invasive signal crayfish species currently displacing native Danish freshwater crayfish. Signal_Crayfish, 2020
The installation asked speculative questions: Can you remember when Prime Minister Helle Thorning played a DJ set in Parliament instead of giving an opening speech? Frihed, Lighed Og Hip-Hop, 2023
Coffee Lake continues Ørum's ongoing investigation of the analog and digital spaces we navigate daily, both physically and mentally. Coffee Lake, 2019
We are shaped by the grammar of the frame, where composition and colour psychology direct our gaze and mood. Watershed, 2025
The project was part of Nordic Sessions II, focusing on artistic "walking protocols" based on senses, local places, and movement in urban space. According to the Nose, 2021
Day to Day Data highlights the poetic, speculative, and sometimes humorous dimensions of personal and domestic data. Day to Day Data, 2008
The work mixed factual information about signal crayfish with invented characteristics, including claims that the species can grow to 1.8 metres and possess wireless communication abilities. Signal_Crayfish, 2020
Additional elements included a video installation where visitors had Putin's face projected over them, making them momentarily become Putin speaking about Russian male superiority and Western decadence. Putin's Nose, 2019
By slowing down the act of viewing, the project alters the relationship between attention and imagery. Watershed, 2025
The starting point was the woodlouse as a kind of care worker. Leddyrsomsorg / Arthropod Care, 2026
The pieces incorporated Wi-Fi network names printed on crayfish bodies, casting the invasive species as a digital hybrid creature living within communication networks. Signal_Crayfish, 2020
It ran across two buildings in Ringsted: the artist-run Ringsted Galleriet on Bøllingsvej 15, and the blood-sampling department of Midt- og Vestsjællands Hospital on Bøllingsvej 30. Leddyrsomsorg / Arthropod Care, 2026
Here I was using the same setup I had been trying to get out of: the darkened room, the rows of chairs facing me, the table, the laptop. A Human Pretending To Be An Artist Pretending To Be A Crayfish, 2022
At that time, Denmark experienced economic growth and falling unemployment, and society was marked by optimism and collective visions of a better future — hopes that are harder to find today. Hvidovre Makes Good Times Better, 2025
Participants borrowed nose-shaped masks equipped with audio guides from Lokale, taking them on walks through the Nørrebro area around Griffenfeldsgade 27. According to the Nose, 2021
It questions the implications of surveillance, the accumulation of digital traces, and the way ordinary routines are recorded and interpreted. Day to Day Data, 2008
The familiar backdrop of urban life became part of the work, framing the reimagined objects and frozen scenes within the flow of daily routines. Mundane Heroics, 2019
In the machine's failure to see me correctly, and in the unexpected beauty of its attempt, I was given a chance to see myself in new ways. Speaker 1, 2026
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 installation drew from actual environmental concerns about invasive species whilst incorporating fictional elements related to digital communication networks and surveillance technologies. Signal_Crayfish, 2020
Its on-screen lyrics tell the factual story of a 507-year-old clam killed during the scientific process of determining its age. Djurs Øhav, 2020
With deepfakes and decentralised information sources, the photograph’s credibility as evidence is under renewed scrutiny. Watershed, 2025
Taniguchi of veggie-science.org, part of the daytodaydata.com project. Cosmic Carrot, 2005
Artists were invited through an open call to create works in dialogue with the water-damaged photographs. Depth Estimation, 2019
However, following decades of “misuse”, the area is presently being integrated back into the rest of the city as a productive and commercially viable new part of town called “art city”. Brownfield Wonderland, 2022
The project questions the assumption that it is "easier to imagine the end of the world than the end of the welfare state" (paraphrasing Slavoj Žižek). Melting State, 2020
The exhibition dealt with invisible communication systems including Wi-Fi networks, radio communications, and chemical signals that operate undetected around us. Signal_Crayfish, 2020
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
Maps are freely available across Aalborg, and the project’s website continues to expand its speculative histories. Aalborg Is The Future, 2024
On the one hand, it can be seen as an attempt to resist the grip of major platforms, their data collection, and their opaque models. None of These Images Are of Me, 2025
Taking its starting point in classical ideas about the end of the world, the exhibition mixed anxiety and faith in the future into a playful soap-opera-like narrative, relocating human fate to mysterious experiments of a distant time. The End of the Universe as We Know It?, 2007
One night I dreamt that the cancer might turn the Russian president into a crab, or perhaps a crayfish, and woke to a report that he was dying of cancer. A Human Pretending To Be An Artist Pretending To Be A Crayfish, 2022
The same book was shown in Interspecies Futures at the Center for Book Arts, New York, in 2021. Signal_Crayfish, 2026
The exhibition opened on 8 October 2009 and remained on view until 30 October 2009. Et Andet Rum 2, 2009
To experience this material, users navigate a digital environment rather than scroll through a linear feed. Watershed, 2025