Works by Tracey Emin, Gilbert and George and David Hockney, among others, appear in this exhibition exploring the role of language.

Here, the most prominent means of communication we have - which we often take for granted - is reflected back to us with its capacity to confront, probe and make statements.

Emin, whose infamous bed was controversially nominated for the Turner Prize in 1999, is represented by, surprise, surprise, another bed, The Simple Truth (1995).

Covered by a quilt embroidered with the words Tracey Emin Here To Stay and the US flag, she made the piece while on a trip to the States that was not going according to plan. "I made this blanket in response to my feelings about America and also to the art world.

"It was never a work I intended to sell - or for it to be hung - but to be placed on my bed in my hotel room. This is why it is so simple in comparison to my other sewn works."

In Souvenir Placards (1993), Martin Boyce has compiled a list of classic protest slogans which demonstrate an awareness of how times, and language, have changed since the phrases were used. Coal Not Dole, Free South Africa and Pay No Poll Tax are painted in black paint on white placards and piled up on the floor.

He says: "Some were redundant because the cause had been won or lost. With others, it was the language that was redundant. Those words in that configuration were simply unfashionable. We couldn't say them even if we had to."

Fiona Banner's The Desert (1994-95) consists of a transcription of the events in the film Lawrence Of Arabia, in her own words.

The work spreads across the wall panoramically, like a cinema screen in its shape and size, covered by thousands and thousands of words.

Banner, who has been shortlisted for this year's Turner Prize, has chosen an epic film and presented it in epic format for the visitor to read as much as they have time for.

In the catalogue to the exhibition, Hayward Gallery curator Fiona Bradley writes of The Desert: "All artworks need to be read but this insists upon the process more than most - the viewer has physically to walk the length of the work, attempting to keep the meaning of the words together as they threaten to move out of line."

In Mona Hatoum's Measures Of Distance (1988), the written and spoken word are joined together in a narration about personal and political separation.

At the start of the video, the screen is filled with hand-written Arabic script. Behind the writing, barely discernible, is someone moving about. The soundtrack is of two women talking in Arabic.

Yet another layer unfolds as a woman's voice reads out a letter in English. This voice belongs to the artist who is reading letters from her mother to herself.

The listener soon becomes aware that Hatoum is in London and her mother is in Beirut following exile from Palestine.

Each begins with the wish that "this bloody war" would stop so they can see one another again. Hatoum's mother explains the post office has been destroyed by a car bomb and a phone connection between London and Beirut is precarious.

The letters address issues of personal and political identity and as the two women struggle for understanding, the necessity of words and language is deeply felt.

Call 01323 417961 for information.