In comparison with its big sister over the river, it is tiny. Converting the old London Hydraulic Power Company building into spaces for visual and performance art has cost just £4m - none of it from the lottery. Just to refresh your memory, Tate Modern came in at £134m. They could probably have done the Wapping Project by nipping over to Bankside and liberating a few building materials when nobody was looking. In art-museum terms, this is pocket-money stuff.

But the Wapping project is by no means an art museum. You could describe it as a space where anything can happen, with a rather nice restaurant attached. Like a number of other contemporary galleries and theatres, Wapping is appealing to the punters through their stomachs. Many will go there just to sit among the old, carefully-preserved industrial machines and pipework to sup fashionable metropolitan food and an all-Australian wine list. The more the merrier, for those diners will be financing what happens in the former boilerhouse right next door. At the moment, it's a flood.

The 1890 hydraulic power station

Jane Prophet's installation is called "Conductor". It's a clever piece of work, which not only works with the building's rusty, stained industrial character, but serves to glorify it. You'll doubtless have noticed how important architecture is becoming in much contemporary art - one way of seeing the Royal Academy at the moment is as a hellish version of the Ideal Home exhibition - but the Wapping Project displays a different sensibility. Prophet (better known for video and digital work) responds entirely to her given context, rather than introducing a context of her own. She simply floods the entire floor of the lofty boilerhouse, and dangles glowing electro-luminescent cables from the ceiling above it.