An exhibition in London about the work of Daniel Libeskind really gets to grips with its subject. Emma Cullinan reports.

Cynical architects have now begun referring to Daniel Libeskind as the ambulance chaser. Just look at his track record: the Jewish Museum in Berlin (which catapulted Libeskind to fame); the new building for Ground Zero in New York; and the Imperial War Museum in Manchester, England (shortlisted for this year's Stirling prize).

Some say that Libeskind's legendary explanations for the way he designed his buildings are beginning to wear thin, as the same narration could be applied to each tragedy-themed museum building. That's perhaps rather far-fetched as the stories do change to match the building: the Jewish Museum has voids in it to signify the despair of the Jews at the hands of the Nazis; the Imperial War museum is composed of shards representing the nature of conflict on land, in the air and on water; while the Ground Zero site has a large spike on top mirroring the raised arm of the Statue of Liberty and it is 1,776 feet high, matching the year of American independence.

This literal and metaphorical matching of buildings to the surroundings can be fun and has obviously captured some clients' imaginations. It's tempting . . . Perhaps a new Abbey theatre could have an auditorium in the shape of Lady's Windermere's fan; a bar in the shape of a plough with star-shaped lights above and a penthouse for playboys of the western world? But this type of paralleling could easily result in a discordant, tawdry mess.

It does help if the language used to explain your thesis is suitably obtuse and Polish-born Libeskind has that lexiconitis which afflicts many architects. Visitors to the Libeskind exhibition in the Barbican, London, will read gems such as: "Urban mythologies, assumed moments of communicating, ravages in the physiognomy of cities, the twilight of deserts, might yet be signs of a dawning disclosure, a discourse that the city has already made and is continuing to extend globally, despite the fact that one doesn't recognise it."

A clue as to where such swarms of ideas come from, in both Libeskind's discourse and design, comes at the entrance to the exhibition where line drawings that Libeskind executed in the 1970s are displayed. The work entitled Chamberworks: Architectural Meditations on the Themes from Heraclitus has the flowing shapes ending in points that herald the buildings Libeskind later designed, while Micromegas: The Architecture of Endspace comprises endless overlaying of shapes - a mark of the puzzle-like deconstructed compositions that Libeskind designs.

Yet the exhibition displays the architect's work with remarkable clarity and the architect, who can also explain his projects very clearly, was involved in the mounting of his work. As can be seen in the exhibition, most of Libeskind's work is for museums (Jewish Museum Berlin, Royal Ontario Museum, Imperial War Museum North, extension to the Denver Art Museum, and the Osnabrück museum, Germany) and he's certainly become a master at display.

As with the museums in Berlin and Manchester, the displays here involve pictures, films and slides projected into walls, quotes, plans, elevations, hanging fabrics, in those Libeskindesque pointed shapes, and models.

As an overview of the architect's work it's clear that there is a distinct style. It's as if someone has taken a child's building set, with its straight and curved blocks, and whittled the end of them into points. These are then piled together in extraordinary compositions to form a whole. There is a joy to them as they demand attention and concentration.

To see his work in microcosm, head to Cork next spring, where Libeskind's temporary pavilion will be erected in Fitzgerald's Park. Having been in it, I can attest to its joy as a venue, although dress up warm, as it has almost as many openings as it has walls.

The Berliners, with their Jewish Museum, have been clever at getting a well finished building with some beautiful spaces - one senses a commitment and budget. The Imperial War Museum in Manchester has the distinctive Libeskind external shape but inside the cavernous spaces are stark. Perhaps this has a lot to say about the experiences of soldiers in the war - or maybe it's the Manchester budget - or a bit of both.

The Felix-Nussbaum-Haus at Osnabrück museum in Germany - named after an artist who died in Auschwitz - is like the Berlin museum in that Libeskind's jagged metal coated, timber-clad and concrete structure juts from behind a conventional, period-style museum. It's the same with the extension to the Denver Art Museum, due to open in 2006, whose combination of metallic shards look as if a space craft has landed in the city, while the existing Royal Ontario Museum has been injected with glass needles.

Libeskind came to Londoners' attention when the new extension to the Victoria and Albert Museum was unveiled and the model here shows why it caused a stir. Set between the classical V&A buildings, the engineering feat known as The Spiral resembles large blocks of ice dropped in from the sky. This de-centred spiral was developed in collaboration with Cecil Balmond of Arup and its system of continuous interlocking walls was created in such a way that the structure needs no supporting elements.

A few weeks' ago it was announced that plans for this new entrance to the V&A had been dropped. This comes on top of the hassle that Libeskind has had with the Ground Zero building. The blurb accompanying the exhibit in the Barbican has no mention of the battle that Libeskind has had with the architect, David Childs of Skidmore, Owings & Merrill, who was appointed by the Ground Zero site owner Larry Silverstein. The scheme depicted is Libeskind's competition-winning version and not the collaborative design that went on site this summer.

Libeskind was also up against Skidmore, Owings & Merrill on Irish soil when the two architectural firms were on the shortlist for the redevelopment of Carlisle Pier in Dún Laoghaire. As in New York, Libeskind's work appealed to the public, the majority of whom voted for his scheme, which included an Irish diaspora museum. However, he lost out and the scheme designed by architects Heneghan Peng was chosen by the organisers.

What you often miss when seeing pictures of the Ground Zero scheme is what's happening at the base, and this is shown in the model at the exhibition. Again, a combination of ziggy-zaggy pile-ups but when they're at this smaller scale - set around a courtyard - they make for a dynamic public space.

It must be time for Libeskind to take a new direction, although his proposed scheme for Dublin's Docklands looks similar to his past work. Some architects are doing just fine with signature buildings at the moment, and Dublin already has a bridge by another of them, Santiago Calatrava. Yet Libeskind's house for American painter and sculptor Barbara Weil in Majorca shows that he's capable of other approaches: this is a curved structure (still with pointed elements) with allusions to the New York Guggenheim. But his buildings so far have had emotion invested in them which creates exciting structures.

Space of Encounter: The Architecture of Daniel Libeskind is at the Barbican Art Gallery until January 23rd, 2005. Entrance: £8. See www.barbican.org.uk or phone 0044 845 121 6826. Libeskind is due to give a lecture in Cork next year