THIS brave enterprise - which is not simply another essay in that increasingly boring area, gender politics - brings together the work of a dozen artists, three of whom are dead.

Gerda Fromel, whose tragic death in 1975 is still lamented by so many people, was obviously a major figure, and her bronze animals and wistful, softly modelled heads look better and better with the years.

The late Elisabeth Frink was a considerable but uneven sculptor, probably at her most inspired in animal subjects and more conventional in dealing with the human figure. The massive male heads which dominate her late work plainly have a debt to Etruscan and other ancient models, and they sometimes totter on the edge of banality and overstatement.

Melanie Le Brocquy's small, eloquent bronzes make their effect by precisely the opposite qualities - understatement and a very exact eye for nuances and effects of light.

Alexandra Wejchert, who had the last solo exhibition of her lifetime in this gallery, introduces a note of international abstraction, at once austerely intellectual and intensely emotional, almost mystical. A posthumous retrospective of her work is surely due by now.

Cathy Carman's twisting, nervous bronzes quiver with energy, but still lack, to my eyes, a final sense of form. I thought Eileen McDonagh's three bronze columns, surmounted by shell or mineral - shapes, more original than her squat carved pieces in limestone.

Imogen Stuart, whose work is so rarely seen inside galleries, is a welcome presence and is equally at home in wood or bronze. The skeletal, ribbed pieces of Catherine Delaney suggest old rotted boats, or animal bones, or rusty iron frames, and create their own individual, imaginative world.

Other exhibitors include Deborah Brown, Cliodhna Cussen, Catherine Greene, Clare Bigger, Linda Brunker and Ana Duncan.