Tim Birch

"Religion is all about being profound. And lots of things these days are about being profound. But nothing's profound," says artist and Belgian national, Wim Delvoye.

He's about to explain himself when his cell phone lilts in and steals the moment. Man, that's profound.

Delvoye's work is figurative: alluding to the stuff of humanity. Sex and more specifically, on balance, death. Rather as Gilbert & George made pieces not unlike stained glass window to represent death and ascension, Delvoye presents a series of back-lit transparencies in a quasi-religious style.

In them, are curiosities like an X-Ray of a human hand with its middle-finger positioned up a pig's bum. It's playful, pluralistic work and though the built-up images derive much vigour from religious art, this is image making that is secular in its concerns: it's not about faith, per se.

Superficial

Is the similarity with Gilbert & George just superficial? "Well, they were quite naughty too," says Delvoye of G&G, the word 'naughty' slinking off his tongue. Certainly, some of Delvoye's imagery conveys 'rude love' - bit of a shocker for MAG, though it must be said that what's on show here is subtle and in good taste, as they say.

In front of the wall are 3-D hybrids: caterpillar diggers crossed with gothic cathedrals. They make for an oddball convergence of construction and destruction - and, purposefully, they look all-too familiar after the '9-11' anniversary media repetition. Via such quasi-religious imagery Delvoye nods to the traditional ties between art and the church: artists having spent centuries icon- and image-making in 2- and 3-D for the Medici et al.

"I agree," says Delvoye. "Also, very simple sometimes. These X-ray pictures are slides, transparencies. I say, 'Ehh, stained glass is also a transparency in a way'." Which revelation proves that you needn't read too much into art.

Uncompromising

Uncompromising - a fair term to describe the work? "Ah, also yah," he confirms. But not for shock. He shakes his head, no. "There's nothing pornographic anymore. From the '50s on it was always difficult, you know - topless, then a bit further, and a bit further. Then from the '80s on you see, er… " Jeff Koons and porn? I interject.

"Mmm -You see everything. Very shaven, graphic, heh? So what's the next step? - Going that nude that there's nothing sexual anymore. That you just have skeletons in a way. So it's like the Danse Macabre from the 17th century - these etchings of skeletons reminding you that your life is not here but later." Memento mori? "Yeah - and also it's like the medicals became a new religion." Science replacing religion as the new faith? "Yeah, he's checking your arse to make sure you'll live for 100 years - even if you don't like it, you have to live for 100 years now, you know?"

Salient observations plus humour is a good formula. They make Delvoye great value in conversation, and one imagines, life. Ditto for his art. In both senses he occupies a place somewhere between profundity and profanity - and that seems equitable to me.

I have the Ready-Brek glow of a good vibe as I turn to leave. But like Columbo, there's always just one more thing … The production of these monster pieces - have you got a workforce? "Mmm," he nods, pausing to set up his punchline. "Yellow Pages."

Wim Delvoye: Gothic Works is at Manchester Art Gallery until Sunday, November 17.