Kristoffer Ørum
Not research. The works were made first and explained afterwards.
Some of it only exists as a photograph now.
Twenty years out of art school, and back in it.
A documentary practice. Every work here has an address and a date.
A portraitist. None of the portraits are of him.
A teacher who keeps a studio in order to have something to teach from.
As the lecture unfolded, the lecturer (actor Kristian Husted) gradually transformed from a detached academic into a man consumed by his subject. The Pattern In Us All, 2007
The project's visual materials referenced aesthetics from Djurs Sommerland and airplane safety folders. Djurs Øhav, 2020
The exhibition featured video projections, 3D-printed sculptures, wireless transmissions, two-dimensional works, and an augmented reality component that allowed visitors to view "monsters" inhabiting the gallery through their phone cameras. Mundane Monsters, 2022
Aarhus'er #1 doesn't offer a single reading of what was or what could be. Aarhus'er #1, 2025
It is not pure resistance, but rather an example of how critique and complicity inevitably coincide. None of These Images Are of Me, 2025
Rooted in histories of low-resource computing and community-run networks, the project repositions AI as a tool for collective experimentation and situated knowledge-making. Diffused States (Lexington), 2025
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
Installation took place aboard Svartlöga ship functioning as gallery space. Ebeltoft After The Flood, 2021
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
The invasive biological species served as an analogy for invasive digital technologies and data collection systems. Signal_Crayfish, 2020
One room was painted bright pink with beetroot juice, smelling earthily of childhood beetroot soup, and featured a Russian rap sung by a life-sized copy of Putin's nose. Putin's Nose, 2019
Through these monstrous and bizarre creatures, the work addressed our relationship to more familiar creatures and digital systems that we share the modern technological world with. Mundane Monsters, 2023
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
The artists sent unsolicited emails to residents of the Ballehage area warning of an epidemic of Involuntary Tessellation and offering cures with a link to tessellax.com, a fake medical website based on an altered AIDS treatment site. The Ballehage Woman, 2009
The works were presented as productive machines possessing a capacity to carry out operations both as singular units and assembled into larger wholes. Coffee Lake, 2019
Deconstructed 2D news images drift across a constructed 3D landscape, never pretending to be windows onto reality. Watershed, 2025
The second ten minutes show a baby sleeping, curled peacefully against a blue woodlouse. Leddyrsomsorg / Arthropod Care, 2026
The project examined the invasive signal crayfish species currently displacing native Danish freshwater crayfish. Signal_Crayfish, 2020
Works included "When nature looks back at you" (3D print, 2021), "Pearl House" (mixed media, 2020), "Habitation Oyster from Kolidsound" (3D print, 2020), and "WARNING FLOOR FLOODED DURING HIGH TIDE" (hydrographic print on cornstarch, 2021). Ebeltoft After The Flood, 2021
*Radiant Copenhagen* was a speculative reimagining of the city developed as an online platform and complemented by real-world actions. Radiant Copenhagen, 2009
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
With modified lawnmowers, they cut public lawns and compressed the grass to extract chlorophyll, the “magic potion” that enabled them to carry out new missions. Game Continent, 2010
The project has been discussed in Vice and elsewhere as a reflection on surveillance, aesthetics and identity in the age of algorithmic vision. Recognised Faces, 2014
The project formed part of a research collaboration between the participating museums and the University of Copenhagen. Signal_Crayfish, 2020
I also do it because I, as a white, established, middle-aged male artist, embody many of the privileges and blind spots that shape both the world and the art world. None of These Images Are of Me, 2025
Strange audio players and distorted timelines hint at other ways things could have turned out, with hip-hop positioned not as a fixed genre or imported form, but as a set of evolving principles. Aarhus'er #1, 2025
Auto Navigate My History uses the digital archive of daily browsing as both source and medium. Auto Navigate My History, 2014
They contribute to a narrowing of bodily representations that is far more damaging in the long run than strange AI slippage. None of These Images Are of Me, 2025
Maps are freely available across Aalborg, and the project’s website continues to expand its speculative histories. Aalborg Is The Future, 2024
The inkjet transfer process applied the processed imagery to the printed form. Depth Estimation, 2019
Anders Bojen and Kristoffer Ørum investigate the hidden systems, routines, and traces that ordinary objects and personal behaviors generate, from domestic habits to browsing histories and household interactions. Day to Day Data, 2008
The Wave made by Anders Bojen & Kristoffer Ørum is a computer-animated video installation depicting a stormy sea with the tower of Copenhagen City Hall in the background. The Wave, 2009
The animated scene acts as a virtual doubling of both the street in front and the interior space behind the window. Et Andet Rum 2, 2009
Rather than scaling towards planetary computation, this speculative trajectory follows a slower, more situated evolution—one in which algorithms adapt to the languages, histories, and needs of their immediate context. Diffused States (Vancouver), 2025
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
This forms a new layer of mediation—one that is constant, pervasive, and almost invisible. Watershed, 2025
For me, these are not just errors, but moments of strange beauty and surplus meaning. Speaker 1, 2026
Despite this, they were largely abandoned in favour of commercially driven binary architectures. Diffused States (Boston), 2025
The work departed from the exhibition space but moved as performative action into urban space, with an online component extending the offline event. According to the Nose, 2021
Transparent mobiles with polarisation filters cause the overlapping projections to shift constantly, creating a spatial interpretation of a hybrid and unstable identity. AutoBiography, 2011