Zombie satellites are decommissioned, inactive satellites that unexpectedly resume operation and begin transmitting signals back to Earth. While official space agencies classify these objects as space debris, amateur enthusiasts have dubbed them “zombies” due to their intermittent signaling and half-dead nature—being electronically active yet functionally dead.
By drifting beyond human intent and control, these satellites acquire a strange independence and uniqueness, existing as entities that are forgotten yet undeniably real. This object allows one to contemplate the meaning of things situated in a liminal zone between functional death and physical reality, serving as a reflection of the self in a modern society where existential status is determined solely by productivity and utility. Ultimately, zombie satellites challenge the dominant classification system that strips the status of existence based on operation and efficiency, applying the same rigid logic to both humans and objects.
The name “Odradek” was adopted as a metaphor for zombie satellites, which escape human control and understanding once they lose their intended functionality. Unlike typical technological artifacts defined strictly by utility and precision, a defunct satellite orbiting to its own rhythm resists replacement and emerges as an autonomous, unclassifiable other.
Anything that dies has had some kind of aim in life, some kind of activity, which has worn out; but that does not apply to Odradek.
Franz Kafka, The Cares of a Family Man
Much like the enigmatic entity from Kafka’s story—whose origin, purpose, and form remain ambiguous—the true reality of a zombie satellite becomes physically unreachable and conceptually ungraspable. Therefore, the project utilizes the name Space Odradek to reinterpret these discarded remnants, questioning the boundaries between utility and existence, and creating a speculative rendezvous point where the ungraspable entities on the Earth orbit meet terrestrial artistic apparatuses.
Upon this context, the project Space Odradek explores zombie satellites—defunct satellites that continue to transmit signals—and abandoned space objects, questioning whether things that have lost their purpose are truly dead or can emerge as new forms of existence. It seeks to reinterpret the remnants of technological civilization as artistic apparatuses, raising questions about the boundaries between usefulness and uselessness.
Furthermore, by introducing a speculation about a fictional space archaeologist obsessed with unidentified satellite signals, the project transforms the exhibition space into a site where reality and fiction intersect. This narrative, taking the form of a government report provided at the exhibition hall, transforms the physical space into the very location where the archaeologist underwent a mysterious experience. This narrative device blurs the boundaries between fiction and reality, situating the audience within a speculative scenario and strengthening the narrative immersion in the extraordinary experience of encountering zombie satellites. Combined with mechanical performances, this narrative device allows the audience to sensorially encounter and experience the spectral traces left by technology.
This apparatus receives and decodes signals from zombie satellites, manifesting them through sound installations and mechanical performances integrated with visual elements. Together, these components create an immersive experiential space where visitors sensorially encounter the haunting presence of these abandoned objects. The sound system operates through three channels, broadcasting real-time signals alongside recorded data from other tracked satellites via spatial audio to form a multi-layered soundscape. Simultaneously, a digital display and a physical plotter visualize and record the satellites’ real-time trajectories, translating invisible orbital data into tangible visual and physical traces.
On a technical level, the satellite signals are captured using a QFH antenna and Software Defined Radio (SDR), then processed through SDR++ software. The overall system software is built with openFrameworks, which interfaces with Max/MSP to manage and control the installation’s spatial audio. Furthermore, the precise kinetic movements of the mechanical devices are driven by custom PCBs equipped with ESP32 microcontrollers and TMC2209 motor drivers. All sub-elements are connected to a single WiFi network and controlled in real-time.
The Odradek functions as a mechanical performance apparatus semantically linked to the zombie satellites drifting above. When a registered satellite appears in the sky above the exhibition place, the system aligns the device’s orientation with the satellite’s trajectory. By adjusting the opening and closing of its folding parts according to the satellite’s current speed, its distance from the gallery, and the intensity of the received signal, the apparatus attempts a form of semantic communion while providing the audience with intuitive visual clues of this interaction. If multiple satellites appear simultaneously, the system divides the Odradeks into up to three groups to track different targets, and this tracking motion continues until the respective satellites disappear below the horizon and completely leave the sky above the hall.
The installation utilises a digital display interface and a physical plotter to visualise the real-time presence of tracked satellites. The display graphically maps the satellites’ real-time orbital positions, azimuths, and projected 24-hour trajectories—calculated by the computer using received TLE (Two-Line Element) data—employing a blue and white aesthetic that pays homage to the 1960s space agencies that launched numerous zombie satellites, including the narrative’s central object, TRANSIT 5B-5. Complementing this digital tracking, the plotter translates real-time satellite signals into geometric shapes on a continuously moving paper scroll.
The sound implementation of the project tracks 14 zombie satellites, outputting unfiltered, real-time live signals when a satellite appears alone, or forming three-dimensional acoustic layers with pre-recorded signals when multiple appear simultaneously. This core principle of playing actual signals ensures the audience perceives the auditory experience as a physical event occurring on Earth orbit, transforming the exhibition into a site of a real encounter.
Aesthetically connected to Kafka’s description of Odradek’s “laughter that has no lungs,” the atypical sound intertwines the noise of vast space and mechanical signals rather than refined melodies. This unfiltered sound texture allows the audience to confront the voice of an untranslatable ‘Non-human Entity,’ auditorily maximising the bizarre presence of abandoned objects and completing the project’s speculative narrative.
Project Page | Instagram: @sangbong_yi / @chihimchik / @bon_kim_art
Sangbong Lee (Artist)
Chihim Chik (Sound design and engineering)
Bon Kim (Co-Curation, Production)
This project was supported and sponsored by ZER01NE and HEC, with academic guidance from Dr. Petra Klusmeyer, Prof. Dennis Paul, and Prof. Ralf Baecker. Exhibited at ZER01NE DAY (17. Sep – 21. Sep. 2025, Hyundai Seongsu Hub, Seoul) and Theses Exhibition (10. Apr – 13. Apr. 2026, Halle 1 / Speicher Xi A, Bremen)
