Anish Kapoor: Turning the World Upside Down, Kensington Gardens, London

An elegant reflection of Kapoor's art

Anish Kapoor's stock in trade, when it comes to his public projects, is something a marketing person might term a "wow factor". It is art that is meant to elicit gasps and "ooohs" and "aaahs". Marsyas, his red eardrum-like sculpture in Tate Modern's Turbine Hall in 2002 was an exercise in monumentality – one of the biggest sculptures in the world. Within his exhibition at the Royal Academy last year, he delighted viewers with his visceral wax-firing cannon. Soon his immense (if rather grotesque-looking) ArcelorMittal Orbit, an enormous Olympic tower in east London, will make its mark on the city.

Now, in Kensington Gardens, there are more noises of pleasure and excitement, as an installation of four of Kapoor's outdoor sculptures have been installed in the park. This time, however, Kapoor has generously provided us with a chance to marvel, not at his sculptures exactly, but at the beauty of the park, bestrewn, as it is, with ornamental lakes, landscaped vistas, and, currently, falling leaves. C-Curve (2007) is a large, extremely precise and impeccably finished convex mirror, which distorts one's reflection, so one looks at the world upside down. It's such a lot of fun to goose-step around the mirror, to see it distorting you – to see dogs and children mystified by their strange reflections. Non-Object (Spire) (2007), a smaller, mirrored spire, hidden amongst the trees, is perhaps slightly less successful in this sense, and the last two works are from Kapoor's Sky Mirrors series. A red mirror, installed in the Round Pond, is a mirror tilted to face the sky, turning it red, whilst another enormous Sky Mirror can be seen across the park. It draws down the sky – which, on the day I visited, was bright grey and thick with moisture – into the landscape. It's the imposition of something so large, strangely slick, and perfect, that makes Kapoor's mirrors look so charmingly alien in contrast to the profusion of odd shapes, of leaves and clouds, that nature tends to throw at us.

The deft trick that these sculptures play is that they dramatise the landscape. Sometimes we need a nudge to be able to look at the world anew, and this is what Kapoor provides us with here. The convex back view of C-Curve, for example, creates a mirrorworld that is utterly panoramic, cinematic. As you look at them you see yourself as an actor in a motion picture that looks as though it has been set up by a talented director of photography. And, indeed, photography plays no small part in the experience of these sculptures. On the day that I visited, newspaper photographers and the general public alike, young and old, were going wild taking snaps of the sculptures.

These are the best of Kapoor's public-art projects, because they are open to the world. Their openness, perhaps, is also somewhat problematic – they are almost blank, which is why they look as at home outside corporate centres as they do in the park. Kapoor's sculptures in Kensington Gardens are a very enjoyable, elegantly executed addition to a damp autumn stroll in this particularly English landscape. It's testament to Kapoor's sensitivity that he has chosen to accentuate, rather than compete, with its gentle beauty.

To 13 March ( www.serpentinegallery.org)