Tate Modern’s current exhibition shows the work of Mexican artist Gabriel Orozco, an interesting figure who sees his role as “reinterpreting” and not “inventing,” through photography, sculpture and ink work.

The works are divided into rooms. The first introduces the show with These Hands Are My Heart, a work of sculpture and photography. A bare-chested Orozco holds his clenched fists in front of the camera, then open-palmed, displays brick clay beneath. The resulting shape, resembling a heart, is displayed behind; even the aorta can be made out. A beautiful reflection of turning the ordinary into transient forms, a known Orozco trait.

The next room seems to be full of playful objects, and is lined with photographs from Until You Find Another Yellow Schwalbe. This was a project undertook while the artist was living in Berlin. He owned a Schwalbe, a yellow scooter manufactured in East Germany, and photographed it with another whenever he chanced across the same model. Here he almost anthropomorphises the objects, as though they are engaging in a reunion of sorts. Schwalbe translates from the German as Swallow, the migratory bird, adding to the idea of home and returning.

Four Bicycles (There Is Always One Direction) reflects Orozco’s time in Rotterdam. Four bicycles slotted together by their frames creates an interestingly non-permanent form which is balanced and oddly poetic, easily one of the stand-out works. It is beguilingly elegiacal in its reflection of place and identity, but is also joyful. It takes the idea of the ordinary and turns it on its wheels entirely, a speciality it seems.

La DS, used by the Tate on its promotional material for the show, is another object that has been adjusted from its original form. An old Citroen DS, cut lengthways into three pieces, with the central piece removed before reassembling to give it an ultra-streamlined futuristic appearance; as though a prop from a 70s sci-fi show. It looks somewhat alien, disconcerting and cartoonish, as to reach this state the engine would have been removed, making the car function only as art, unlike Bicycles.

Among the other pieces, there is one disappointment. A lone white shoebox appears lost and almost pointless; a nervous employee stands nearby, tapping his foot, removing any sense of magic the object might have had. It is just too ordinary, merely a shadow of the rest of the room.

The next room is very different; the first thing that is noticeable is a ceiling fan with white banner-like streams hanging from it. It is elegant, which becomes amusing as it is revealed that the banners are merely streams of toilet paper. Continuing the found objects theme, Orozco has “defaced” banknotes (rupees, deutschmarks and roubles) and painted over them with circular patterns, photographs of sport with similar alterations, and paintings of more geometric patterns. It becomes obvious that the artist is obsessed with the circular form, and this is reflected throughout the exhibition.

Horses Running Endlessly, his reimagined, oversized chess board is populated only with knights, disrupting the aim of the conventional game. Here Orozco’s mischievous playfulness asks the viewer to imagine the game which would then commence; a game with only circular dances being possible.

The next space is full of photographs. A table sitting in sand, a pyramid of sand atop, seems mysterious and reflective of a narrative occurring in the rest of the image that is hidden by the limits of the photograph’s borders. Tables, dishevelled and derelict, a citrus fruit atop each, as though an odd party had been abandoned before it could begin. Tins with cat-eye labels sit atop watermelons, playful and abstract.

The most touching is Island Within An Island, a photograph taken in 90s NYC. Orozco used rubbish against a wall to recreate the city’s skyline behind. It becomes oddly haunting when it is realised that this skyline includes the Twin Towers, then becomes a tribute to the city. In the centre of the room, a round billiards table with no holes sits, with two white balls,a red ball suspended low from the ceiling. With the provided cues the piece almost begs participants to invent their own rules; and with the room, invent their own stories.

The most haunting and elegiacal piece in the collection begins with the banal; lint, hair and excess skin gathered from drying machines and formed into rectangular pieces, then hung over several lines in a large room. Originally exhibited in the aftermath of 9/11, it became a far more emotional piece reflecting on the fragility of human existence and makes for a more sobering atmosphere.

The collection is a work in whimsy, fantasy, and the process of turning banal, everyday objects and infusing them with a new vision of creativity and playfulness. Although some pieces seem odd in the setting and perhaps do not flow in the exhibition as other pieces, it is an engaging collection which ranges from humorous to extremely touching and haunting.

The £11 entry may seem a little steep, but if you have it to spare it’s definitely worth it.