Kristoffer Ørum
Solitary. One person decides what is documented and what is forgotten.
A sculptor. Jesmonite, foam, clay, 3D-printed plastic.
Some of it only exists as a photograph now.
Local. Copenhagen and Aarhus, mostly.
Not local. Boston, Vancouver, Riga, Kraków, Oberhausen, San Francisco.
Made by hand, mostly. Cut, cast, sanded, painted.
Seven artists selected local associations they wanted to collaborate with, moving naturally within the same field of interest but from different backgrounds. Everyday Heroes, 2019
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 examined the invasive signal crayfish species currently displacing native Danish freshwater crayfish. Signal_Crayfish, 2020
The performative lecture addresses how we might recover some semblance of agency and hope while living under the gaze of ever more watchful algorithmic systems of control. It Sings for Us of What We Might Become, 2019
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
The two spaces integrate into each other, creating a continuous fluid motion where the boundary of the window is removed. Et Andet Rum 2, 2009
The machine's interpretation is not just a poor copy of reality; it creates a new representation with its own logic and uncanny aesthetic. Speaker 1, 2026
The solo exhibition Djurs Øhav addressed climate change and ecological narratives concerning Kolindsund, a formerly drained lake on Djursland. Djurs Øhav, 2020
Occasionally she would enter well-lit areas briefly before disappearing when confronted. The Ballehage Woman, 2009
*KAOS* is an interactive iPad app created in collaboration with poet Ursula Andkjær Olsen. KAOS, 2012
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
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
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
Through web-based platforms, interactive media, and speculative design, the project transforms mundane moments into complex systems of meaning. Day to Day Data, 2008
Sometimes he has time to update it, sometimes he does not.
Geometric shapes emerge from the boxes, forming a complex sculptural environment. In a Dark Room/a Storm in a Coffee Cup, 2004
By exposing an otherwise private dataset in a public exhibition space, the work reflects on memory, digital traces, and the role of the internet as a space for both research and distraction. Auto Navigate My History, 2014
The work featured 3D-printed signal crayfish models, USB-connected gadgets, and digital manipulations. Signal_Crayfish, 2020
A third video, A Song for Ming, was a karaoke track by Kristoffer Ærørum with music and performance by Josefine Struckmann. Djurs Øhav, 2020
Several video works were part of the exhibition. Djurs Øhav, 2020
When compositional and editorial hierarchies are systematically dismantled, how does the perceived importance of visual information change? Watershed, 2025
The system operated continuously throughout the exhibition, looping through the history without direct interaction. Auto Navigate My History, 2014
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 work utilises the props and techniques of an academic presentation in a playful and open-ended manner, examining present-day culture of classification and the potential of letting go of control. It Sings for Us of What We Might Become, 2019
There is a creative pleasure in this surrender of control: in letting a system run and being surprised by the strange, poetic, or nonsensical landscapes that result. Watershed, 2025
With deepfakes and decentralised information sources, the photograph’s credibility as evidence is under renewed scrutiny. 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
Watershed is an online art project about the algorithmic gaze in an era of digital news. Watershed, 2025
Installation shots show works distributed throughout ship interior. Ebeltoft After The Flood, 2021
"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
These images, generated through AI, deliberately embrace glitches and impossibilities to question how historical narratives are constructed and repeated. Aarhus'er #1, 2025
The launch (December 7, 2024) consisted of a performative city walk, a community meal, and a concert with Christian Høgh, organized with f.eks. and supported by multiple cultural partners. Aalborg Is The Future, 2024
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
Fed back into the internet, these phantom portraits acted as a small disturbance within systems of profiling maintained by intelligence agencies, corporations and other data collectors. Recognised Faces, 2014
Signal Crayfish was presented as part of "Monstrous Machines," an exhibition on why new technologies provoke fear and how this impacts our perception of technology. Signal_Crayfish, 2021
Standing at 1.5 metres, the piece draws on 17th-century drawings by Jón Skonvig, known for his work with antiquarian Ole Worm. The Good, the Lost, and the Beautiful, 2025
As Judith Butler has pointed out, an acknowledgement of our interdependence can be a basis for political communities, while Sara Ahmed highlights the possibility of an “affective solidarity” built on honesty rather than claims of innocence. None of These Images Are of Me, 2025
The project also speaks to a transitional moment. Watershed, 2025
As a user zooms in on a fragment, its pixel structure reveals itself, breaking the illusion of seamlessness. Watershed, 2025
Guests were invited to renegotiate their role — not just as viewers, but as potential participants in a system of storytelling, symbols, and rituals that reframed both the neighbourhood and the museum as shared sites of imagination. Game Continent, 2010