Kristoffer Ørum
The machines are collaborators and cannot be credited.
A documentary practice. Every work here has an address and a date.
A sculptor. Jesmonite, foam, clay, 3D-printed plastic.
Most of it was built on other people's work.
This text is generated. He decided what it generates from.
An artist who makes things up about real places.
This process dismantles the images into fragments by “flooding” a grayscale version of an image from its darkest points to its lightest, just as rainwater would fill a real-world mountainous landscape from its lowest valleys. Watershed, 2025
The question it starts from is what kinds of monuments we need today. Monuments of a Fictional Past (Kraków Edition), 2025
The monumental buildings are inflated like weightless balloons, melt like butter on a hot pan, and are covered with soft multicoloured hair. Melting State, 2020
The exhibition opened on Friday, November 8th, 2019. Listening Without Ears, 2019
The opening performance on 30 May 2024 was paired with Linnea Langfjord's work on alternative presents focused on care and slowness in the art world. Mr. Spray, 2024
My focus, however, lands on the moments of breakdown and confusion where this logic fails. Speaker 1, 2026
In the work, a series of news broadcasts are presented by a talking carrot. Search for Carrot ExtraTerrestrial Intelligence, 2006
Created in 2019, the work was exhibited by Radar Contemporary as an online piece. Vladimir's Tongue, 2020
Some of the objects broadcasted content directly through custom-built wireless networks. Invisible Objects, 2016
The exhibition borrows its title from 1960, when the Social Democratic Party campaigned under the slogan “Make Good Times Better”. Hvidovre Makes Good Times Better, 2025
What looks like a glitch to humans is in fact a trace of the statistical modelling that drives the software. Recognised Faces, 2014
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
Hydrographic prints on cornstarch included text "NO pearls or seaweed in the toilets!!! they are getting clogged" (2021). Ebeltoft After The Flood, 2021
The exhibition was noted for providing a rare opportunity to interact with cutting-edge technology in a gallery setting. Mundane Monsters, 2022
The series also exists as gallery installations, an artist's book and 3D prints; this is its web form. Would You Like to Know More, 2017
Aarhus'er #1 doesn't offer a single reading of what was or what could be. Aarhus'er #1, 2025
From the cover of the newspaper that the greengrocer wrapped the beets in, Russian President Vladimir Putin looked up, his face now covered in beetroot juice splatter. Putin's Nose, 2019
AALBORG ER FREMTIDEN (Aalborg Is the Future) is a public art project by Kristoffer Ørum that presents an alternative perspective on Aalborg's history. Aalborg Is The Future, 2024
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
Signal_Crayfish was commissioned as a book work for "Interspecies Futures ," the first survey of bookworks by international practitioners from bio-art and speculative design fields. Signal_Crayfish, 2021
The installation was produced specifically for Interdimensionale II at Gammelgaard (September 2020) using three 4K video players (Raspberry Pi 4), three IIYAMA B2888UHSU screens, and video rendering services from foxrenderfarm.com. Melting State, 2020
Instead, it opens up space for interpretation, uncertainty and collective speculation, asking visitors to consider alternative trajectories for urban development, cultural production, and collective organisation. Aarhus'er #1, 2025
Kristoffer Ørum’s contribution imagines Malmö as shaped by the afterlives of its industrial past and alternative forms of civic imagination. Even the City Dreams of Being Another, 2025
Geometric shapes emerge from the boxes, forming a complex sculptural environment. In a Dark Room/a Storm in a Coffee Cup, 2004
Instead of being representations in a conventional sense, they functioned as productions of effects, transforming the exhibition space into an operational field based on concepts such as energy, velocity, and transformation. Coffee Lake, 2019
Rather than presenting the institution as a fixed architectural entity, the work represents it as an evolving body defined by the everyday activities, lessons, evaluations, and exchanges taking place within and around it. A Body Has Many Members, 2012
Like collage, the work is not about arriving at a definitive meaning but about generating provisional configurations that open new ways of seeing. Watershed, 2025
The 3D printed objects served as camouflaged recording devices, appearing as innocuous everyday items while performing the technical operation of speech-to-text conversion. Listening Without Ears, 2019
The work featured 3D-printed signal crayfish models, USB-connected gadgets, and digital manipulations. Signal_Crayfish, 2020
I miss images that are weird, flawed, or personal. None of These Images Are of Me, 2025
The photo album was discovered among the salvaged items when the ship was recovered. Depth Estimation, 2019
At Sophienholm it stands outdoors in the park, inside a stone grotto. Affluence without abundance, 2025
A third video, A Song for Ming, was a karaoke track by Kristoffer Ærørum with music and performance by Josefine Struckmann. Djurs Øhav, 2020
Exhibition documented by photographer Mikkel Kaldal. Ebeltoft After The Flood, 2021
The work takes up how computer technology mediates our relationship to the physical world, creating hybrid zones where digital simulation and material reality intersect. Coffee Lake, 2019
The signs Prognose eller kaos (Prognosis or Chaos) and a second Leddyrsomsorg in the gallery. Leddyrsomsorg / Arthropod Care, 2026
By juxtaposing the logic of role-play with the conventions of the museum, *Game Continent* created a moment of disorientation. Game Continent, 2010
When I use myself as material, my body and my image become a site for institutional self-critique—where paradoxically critique and complicity overlap. None of These Images Are of Me, 2025
The installation drew connections between magic, architecture and eroticism through practices of showing and hiding. Sucker Trick, 2017
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