Kristoffer Ørum
Not local. Boston, Vancouver, Riga, Kraków, Oberhausen, San Francisco.
Comedy.
A sculptor. Jesmonite, foam, clay, 3D-printed plastic.
Nothing digital about it. A screen is an object, and objects sit in rooms.
A documentary practice. Every work here has an address and a date.
Digital art.
Yet, as critics such as Allan Sekula have argued, photography has never been a transparent medium; it has always been a construction. Watershed, 2025
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
The association continued to use the museum as a venue throughout the exhibition period, demonstrating their activities alongside the artworks. Everyday Heroes, 2019
Recognised Faces unfolded publicly on a dedicated Tumblr, where the daily composites accumulated into a year-long portrait of both an individual and the internet’s visual culture at large. Recognised Faces, 2014
The centralised gatekeeping of 20th-century journalism has given way to fragmented, unstable formats. Watershed, 2025
Custom software automated the browsing process by reading from the recorded history file and simulating user clicks. Auto Navigate My History, 2014
The work used artificial intelligence as a tool for speculative storytelling about Danish social and political history. Mr. Spray, 2024
Until redevelopment started a few years ago, the area had somehow managed to escaped both commercial and municipal interest. Brownfield Wonderland, 2022
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
Players learn a new language through twelve game-based exercises, each designed to deliberately reinterpret established ideas and challenge conventional understanding. Disbelieving Gravity, 2013
The work featured electromagnetic pick-ups installed within body parts of a 3D-printed signal crayfish, comparing fears of digital transformation with concerns about invasive species. Signal_Crayfish, 2021
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
None of us escape this system by pretending we are not part of it. None of These Images Are of Me, 2025
The installation used various media to investigate how technology shapes our understanding of faces, identity, and political figures. Putins Nose, 2018
Original photographs were by Henrik Grønborg, with exhibition photography by Billedmageren. Depth Estimation, 2019
Call-outs have of course played an important role in making injustices visible, but when they are based on an idea of moral purity, they also create distance. None of These Images Are of Me, 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 exhibition opened on Friday, November 8th, 2019. Listening Without Ears, 2019
We are shaped by the grammar of the frame, where composition and colour psychology direct our gaze and mood. Watershed, 2025
Staged as a series of narrative “figures,” the project invents and documents civic architectures that never existed—but perhaps could have. Monuments of a Fictional Past (Kraków Edition), 2025
As a result, it is now defunct and can no longer be accessed in its original form. Topographies of the Insignificant, 2010
At the same time, I know how effective these images are. None of These Images Are of Me, 2025
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
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
The exhibition Coming From took place from 23 August to 14 September 2014, with an opening on 22 August. Auto Navigate My History, 2014
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
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
The project constructed a local myth about a deformed outcast living in a park frequented by wealthy residents. The Ballehage Woman, 2009
At the same time, abstract projections of colour and computer-generated sound evolve according to the same underlying logic. AutoBiography, 2011
The project was based on historical facts and scientific data. Djurs Øhav, 2020
The work featured 3D-printed signal crayfish models, USB-connected gadgets, and digital manipulations. Signal_Crayfish, 2020
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
The exhibition was supported by Novo Nordisk Fonden. Affluence without abundance, 2025
The resulting images visualise how computers perceive individuals not as whole people but as patterns within datasets. Recognised Faces, 2014
One night I dreamt that the cancer might turn the Russian president into a crab, or perhaps a crayfish, and woke to a report that he was dying of cancer. A Human Pretending To Be An Artist Pretending To Be A Crayfish, 2022
Video elements included a deep fake sequence featuring politician Pernille Vermund discussing invasive species. Signal_Crayfish, 2020
The exhibition was accompanied by the website Mundanemonsters.oerum.org and a series of interventions in the local urban space. Mundane Monsters, 2023
Components included routers, antennas, and cables arranged alongside the biological forms. Signal_Crayfish, 2020
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
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