Kristoffer Ørum
Works with animals that have not agreed to it.
Works with machines that are confidently wrong.
A documentary practice. Every work here has an address and a date.
A programmer who picks the wrong algorithm on purpose.
Not research. The works were made first and explained afterwards.
Nothing digital about it. A screen is an object, and objects sit in rooms.
Some pieces he remembers to add, others he forgets.
The project was supported by research conducted at Aarhus University as part of an ongoing investigation into the aesthetic dimensions of computational processes and automated interpretation systems. Listening Without Ears, 2019
A large yellow-green crayfish was positioned in the gallery window. Signal_Crayfish, 2020
Sometimes he has time to update it, sometimes he does not.
At the same time, I know how effective these images are. None of These Images Are of Me, 2025
Exhibition aboard the ship Svartlöga at Ebeltoft Fregathavnen examining climate change scenarios where Djursland becomes an archipelago. Ebeltoft After The Flood, 2021
The project began the process of using advanced imaging technology and AI as fabulation techniques to create speculative scenarios where the labour movement and hip-hop culture intersected. Tank Hip-Hop, 2022
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
The plate facing it is green and reads "I cheer as the pink-green crayfish team score a goal", over a passage about crayfish sending messages to each other across the same wireless networks that carry a live football game. Signal_Crayfish, 2026
A "Sucker Trick" is a magic trick where the magician offers false clues to hide what they are actually doing. Sucker Trick, 2017
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
The title reflects several forms of diffusion: the algorithmic process of generating images; the grassroots spread of ideas and tools; and the physical scattering of devices across different environments. Diffused States (Lexington), 2025
The virtual creature remained accessible in the Borchs Gård area until 1 March 2022, allowing ongoing public engagement with the augmented reality artwork. The Kolding Creature, 2021
The exhibition took place in various locations throughout the ship, including the forecastle, aft cabin, engine room, and deck. Depth Estimation, 2019
On the one hand, it can be seen as an attempt to resist the grip of major platforms, their data collection, and their opaque models. None of These Images Are of Me, 2025
This video asks a question that sits at the heart of our digital lives: how do we appear to a machine? Speaker 1, 2026
These unsolicited “press releases” became part of the ongoing re-imagining of Amager by local government, private enterprise, and other forces. City Planning, 2010
Works were deliberately constructed with glitching and raw digital noise to make visible the technological mediation and signal transmission processes. Signal_Crayfish, 2020
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 Glyptotek building emerges from darkness with its solid architecture beginning to flow whilst first hair and then colourful feathers grow out of the building, transforming it. Feathered Misconceptions, 2018
The animation recreates the street outside the former artist-run space, projecting a computer-generated scene onto a screen covering the window. Et Andet Rum 2, 2009
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
Each figure is both a memory and a proposition—an echo of what might have been, and a sketch of what still could be. Monuments of a Fictional Past (Kraków Edition), 2025
The exhibition featured artists working in watercolor and gouache—a medium known for its fluidity and delicate textures—even when their usual practice includes sculptural, video, photographic, or installation-based work. Qua Aqua (Beetroot Texts), 2017
The starting point was the woodlouse as a kind of care worker. Leddyrsomsorg / Arthropod Care, 2026
Exhibition hours: Wednesday, Thursday, Friday 17:00-20:00 and Saturday, Sunday 12:00-17:00. Ebeltoft After The Flood, 2021
The work takes up how repeated exposure to images of buildings sinking into rubble with glass shards and dust spreading symmetrically creates expectations that the physical world behaves the same way. Melting State, 2020
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
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
The publication set out the species' survival capabilities and cross-distance chemical communication systems, positioning the crayfish as superior to human technological networks in this comparison. Signal_Crayfish, 2021
I believe a stronger foundation for community lies in a shared recognition of vulnerability. None of These Images Are of Me, 2025
These objects continuously monitored conversations in the gallery space, converting spoken words into text through automated transcription systems, then physically printing the transcribed text. Listening Without Ears, 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
The work was exhibited at Vejle Kunstmuseum from March to August 2020, then travelled to Holstebro Kunstmuseum from September 2020 to January 2021. Signal_Crayfish, 2020
I participate in the system myself because it can grant me access to freedom and resources. None of These Images Are of Me, 2025
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
The liquid stains my hands when I reach into the vegetable drawer. Qua Aqua (Beetroot Texts), 2017
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
All works intentionally carry imperfections — too many fingers, floating houses, distorted details — which reveal their fictional origins. Hvidovre Makes Good Times Better, 2025
In Putin's Nose, a pattern recognition program cast a paranoid-critical gaze upon the exhibition's visitors. Putin's Nose, 2019