Kristoffer Ørum

Kristoffer Ørum

This text is generated. He decided what it generates from.

Made by hand, mostly. Cut, cast, sanded, painted.

A documentary practice. Every work here has an address and a date.

An artist who makes things up about real places.

Some of it only exists as a photograph now.

The machines are collaborators and cannot be credited.

Each network name spells out a fragment of a 31-character text, visible only through the device list of available connections. Wireless Walnut, 2018

The project was documented by Kevin Malcolm and received coverage in Danish art press as part of discussions about digital art and algorithmic perception. Putins Nose, 2018

The exhibition catalogue was designed in a sci-fi paperback style and published by backbonebooks. Signal_Crayfish, 2021

In a parallel way, Watershed treats the algorithm as a collaborator. Watershed, 2025

It weaves together factual history, fiction, and AI-generated imagery to imagine a meeting between hip-hop’s pursuit of individual freedom and the labor movement’s collective struggle for better conditions. Aalborg Is The Future, 2024

In their new form they remain recognisable both as having been a part of structures that no longer exist and as potential building blocks for future structures. Brownfield Wonderland, 2022

The project features a map and website highlighting 16 reinterpreted locations in Aalborg. Aalborg Is The Future, 2024

Some of the objects broadcasted content directly through custom-built wireless networks. Invisible Objects, 2016

The video combines humor, science fiction, and speculative narratives in a single continuous run through unusual and imaginative topics. Search for Carrot ExtraTerrestrial Intelligence, 2006

jerklædte Misforståelser (Feathered Misconceptions) is a fifteen-minute associative performance commissioned by Ny Carlsberg Fondet for their annual celebration of their founder on 28 February 2018. Feathered Misconceptions, 2018

First released in an edition of 10 and sold through the Specta Surplus Store at Galleri Specta, Copenhagen in February 2018. Wireless Walnut, 2018

Alongside the artworks, the programme includes talks, workshops and events on the histories and relevance of these vanished monuments. The Good, the Lost, and the Beautiful, 2025

Using the fictional device Scope 3000, he ultimately merged with the patterns themselves. The Pattern In Us All, 2007

The photographs were found in a cabin after the vessel had spent seven days on the seabed, having been exposed to three atmospheres of pressure and salt water. Depth Estimation, 2019

The exhibition featured 26 contemporary artists responding to photographs that had been recovered from the ship Svartlöga after it capsized and sank in August 2018. Depth Estimation, 2019

The virtual history book appeared on two projection screens: one mounted on Roskilde’s main square and another inside the exhibition. Roskilde Parahistory, 2009

The Good, the Lost, and the Beautiful is a reconstruction of the Lee-stone, one of nine runestones believed to have been lost in the Copenhagen Fire of 1728. The Good, the Lost, and the Beautiful, 2025

Depth Estimation is a 3D printed sculpture made from corn starch with inkjet transfer, based on algorithmic depth estimation of a photograph. Depth Estimation, 2019

The work set daily life against hypothetical digital physiognomies, using the nose as a means to examine identity and perception. According to the Nose, 2021

Amorphous forms in PU foam were combined with media players hidden inside. Invisible Objects, 2016

To understand it, I placed a digital version of myself—a puppet with my face and a clone of my voice—in front of various AIs. Speaker 1, 2026

As Rosi Braidotti has written, critique of the “tyranny of the unified subject” cannot be separated from the fact that we constantly reproduce the very idea of it. None of These Images Are of Me, 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

The work was reviewed in The Brooklyn Rail and included in a panel discussion about interspecies publications created during the pandemic. Signal_Crayfish, 2021

Facial features in the collected images were identified using Stasm, an open-source software package for facial recognition originally developed for biometric applications. Recognised Faces, 2014

It is based on the belief that there is no inevitability to the current process of gentrification, it is simply one choice taken out of a million other possible ways we could develop our cities. Brownfield Wonderland, 2022

The work consists of more than 30 screens distributed throughout the campus, each showing a real-time visualisation of the institution’s invisible infrastructures. A Body Has Many Members, 2012

To experience this material, users navigate a digital environment rather than scroll through a linear feed. Watershed, 2025

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

Public places became stages for brief moments of shared fiction. Mundane Heroics, 2019

Perhaps there is more hope in admitting how deeply we are all entangled. None of These Images Are of Me, 2025

The project used artificial intelligence not as a thinking entity, but as a tool filled with errors and biases that could inspire new ways of thinking. Frihed, Lighed Og Hip-Hop, 2023

The installation combined digital and physical media to create humorous and inventive takes on contemporary environmental and technological themes. Mundane Monsters, 2022

All works intentionally carry imperfections — too many fingers, floating houses, distorted details — which reveal their fictional origins. Hvidovre Makes Good Times Better, 2025

The work was part of "Radius Kolding," an artistic research project inspired by Dutch practices of sending artists into a specific radius to investigate local activities and create new artworks. The Kolding Creature, 2021

Leaving the site once again ready to become yet another kind of Brownfield Wonderland, where one might just be able to dream of something new, instead of more of the same. Brownfield Wonderland, 2022

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

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

By naming the work after the processor used to create it, Ørum draws attention to the material infrastructure of digital media while simultaneously questioning the boundaries between virtual and physical experience. Coffee Lake, 2019

I do it because I see a critique of the world that too often points outward, as if one could speak from a neutral and elevated place. None of These Images Are of Me, 2025

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