Kristoffer Ørum
A record-keeper. The website is the work.
Nothing digital about it. A screen is an object, and objects sit in rooms.
Most of it was built on other people's work.
The website keeps itself up to date. He does not.
Some of it only exists as a photograph now.
Science fiction, set last week.
Everyday objects were recognisable yet altered. Mundane Heroics, 2019
Auto Navigate My History uses the digital archive of daily browsing as both source and medium. Auto Navigate My History, 2014
In return, humans care for the oysters through cleaning, feeding, and gentle maintenance. Affluence without abundance, 2021
What you see here is just what felt important to document at the time.
In 2025, the project will travel to Krakow, Malmö, Boston, Vancouver, Lexington, and Aarhus. Hvidovre Makes Good Times Better, 2025
The exhibition was the result of several years' work with the three monsters, bringing together elements from numerous performances, exhibitions and interventions both domestically and abroad. Mundane Monsters, 2023
During the exhibition, the carefully worded original English text on the exhibition space’s website was gradually replaced by an unstable bilingual text, one sentence at a time. Blind Listening, 2017
Signal_Crayfish (2021), the book work, shown in Futurity Library: Disobedient Artists' Books in the Postbook Age at the San Francisco Center for the Book, 25 April to 26 July 2026, curated by bex ya yolk. Signal_Crayfish, 2026
The work unfolds through short video sequences in which a man slowly unpacks a large box while Olsen’s text is read aloud. KAOS, 2012
The oysters provide shelter, regulate air quality, supply electricity and heating, and monitor their human inhabitants' health and behaviour. Affluence without abundance, 2021
Every Part a Body is a sixty-second digital video, shown in the 60Seconds programme of The Wrong Biennale at CBS Digital Space in March 2026. Every Part a Body, 2026
While you are reading this text, which has been designed to be unreadable by computers, everything that is said in this room is being recorded. Blind Listening, 2017
The exhibition invited seven artists to examine the expressive and poetic qualities of computer programming, looking at how code affects us beyond the interfaces of software applications. Listening Without Ears, 2019
"Vladimir's Tongue" is a digital work that distributes Putin's face online by adding it onto viewers' bodies through their webcam. Vladimir's Tongue, 2020
We are shaped by the grammar of the frame, where composition and colour psychology direct our gaze and mood. Watershed, 2025
The exhibition consisted of stencils painted with beetroot juice, 3D-printed noses and beetroots, inkjet prints, a webcam and screens of various sizes with nose recognition, texts and animation. Putin's Nose, 2019
The work was part of "Partners," an experimental exhibition at Vejle Kunstmuseum that paired seven artists with seven local associations. Everyday Heroes, 2019
The familiar rhythm of news consumption—fast, frictionless, designed for scanning—is replaced by movement through a spatial terrain. Watershed, 2025
Once connected to a computer and powered up, the device generates multiple Wi-Fi networks. Wireless Walnut, 2018
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
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
The virtual history book appeared on two projection screens: one mounted on Roskilde’s main square and another inside the exhibition. Roskilde Parahistory, 2009
This duality exposes both the shortcomings of surveillance technologies and the alternative forms of perception they enact, offering a mechanical way of seeing that highlights aspects of our species that human vision alone might overlook. Recognised Faces, 2014
Melting State is a video installation on three screens where the buildings of Statens Kunstfond, Det Kongelige Kunstakademi, and Kulturministeriet are subjected to computer-generated physics simulations. Melting State, 2020
The installation drew connections between magic, architecture and eroticism through practices of showing and hiding. Sucker Trick, 2017
Putin's Nose began with an everyday moment: looking into a shopping bag full of groceries and noticing a beetroot that, for a moment, looked like the artist's Russian grandmother's nose. Putin's Nose, 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
Her home was a makeshift cardboard shelter resembling her head. The Ballehage Woman, 2009
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
At the same time, abstract projections of colour and computer-generated sound evolve according to the same underlying logic. AutoBiography, 2011
The system operated continuously throughout the exhibition, looping through the history without direct interaction. Auto Navigate My History, 2014
Each day, the system generated a new composite face from images found via Google’s lists of top search terms. Recognised Faces, 2014
The project emphasizes local DIY spirit, encouraging citizens to reimagine Hvidovre’s past and future. Hvidovre Makes Good Times Better, 2025
Nyt Lys is lit at dusk and switched off at eight. Affluence without abundance, 2025
The work was exhibited as part of "New Tactics: moving in a soft field" in 2018 and later developed into a solo exhibition at Møstings Hus in 2019. Putins Nose, 2018
The art world overflows with images of beautiful, smart, and confident artists. None of These Images Are of Me, 2025
The postcards extend this blending of eras, presenting scenes where identity, memory, and cultural imagination converge and transform. The Good, the Lost, and the Beautiful, 2025
It considers what AI might look like if it evolved through neighbourhood initiatives, recycled consumer hardware, and community-specific datasets, moving at the pace of shared maintenance rather than commercial urgency. Diffused States (Lexington), 2025
"Monuments of a Fictional Past" is a project that imagines a past where Soviet edifices dotting the Latvian landscape have been replaced with AI-generated counterparts. Monuments of A Fictitious Past, 2024
The hardware is produced through resource-intensive processes, and even the “local” is entangled in a global infrastructure. None of These Images Are of Me, 2025