One could easily be excused for thinking that modern Polish culture is one large and often frightening amalgam of bad cabbage and boorish expats. True, it doesn’t quite cut the mustard of New York or Cologne, and the Poles will probably never make it into space or even get to work on time, but one thing Poland has that every half-way civilised society would cut off their own ears for is a man called Darek Orwat. A graduate of Wrocław's prestigious Academy of Plastic Arts, Darek Orwat hails from this city, is described by those who know and love him as an idealistic dadaist, and is, in a nutshell, refreshingly odd. Discovered by über-cool Polish theatre director and playwright Jacek Papis, the mysterious Orwat is currently making waves in the Polish art world with his unique blend of delightfully meaningless creations. The some-time actor and set designer is best known for two recurring themes in his work. As a sculptor, Orwat fashions enormous cuddly toys from bright material and fur, sticking silly flashing lights where their eyes should be and getting usually coherent curators to put them willingly into their galleries. Described by one gallery as a painter, handyman and philosopher-charmer, Orwat also spends excessive amounts of his time taking photographs of himself wearing ridiculous jam-jar spectacles and superimposing the results over the top of iconic photographs. Thus will a Darek Orwat exhibition often include several walls of large prints showing seven Orwats winning the FA Cup final, or a solitary, pensive-looking Orwat sat alongside a resplendent Maharaja. If the Poles ever do make it into the stratosphere, let’s hope they choose Darek Orwat - himself a big fan of outer space - as their flight commander.