Pinpoints of brilliant colour dance off its indestructable surface: encased in glass, the grinning, platinum cast skull sits magisterially on its high plinth. Visitors, stepping into a blackened space as if to an ancestral shrine, blink into the gloom before their eyes alight on its radiant surface.

The skull, entitled For The Love Of God, that forms the centrepiece of Damien Hirst's new exhibition is studded with 8,601 diamonds and has one huge, pink, pear-drop gem fixed just above the twinkling eye-sockets. It's enough to dazzle the eye, though the heart remains unmoved.

There are other new departures for Hirst on display here; namely, a series of photo-realist paintings, painted from Polaroids, of the Caesarean birth of his son. Though, before you think Hirst has at last proved himself at figurative painting, you can rest assured they were painted by assistants.

Other new works are variations on old, old themes: cows sliced, sheep crucified, a calf speared in the posture of Saint Sebastian.

One's first thought before any new Hirst exhibition is whether he will, at last, surprise. But it's largely different medium, same concerns. In fact, the only thing that ever redeems Hirst is his humour: represented by a silver infant skeleton in an incubator, his brutally funny nativity scene is, therefore, the more deserving centrepiece.

Until Jul 7, White Cube, 48 Hoxton Square N1 and 25-26 Mason's Yard SW1, Tue to Sat 10am to 6pm, free (pre-book to see the skull). Tel: 020 7930 5373. www.whitecube.com Tube: Old Street and Green Park