THE first thing to be said about Some Versions of Light is that it is great fun.

Martin Richman's neon stairway piece on the roof of the old telephone repeater station at Brompton on Swale, just off the A1, signals that one is in for something unexpected, possibly bizarre, certainly out of the ordinary, and the works inside fulfill all of these expectations, and more.

The second point to be made is that there is something for everyone to enjoy. People sometimes feel that contemporary art is only for the cognoscenti, but that does not apply to these works by mostly London artists, brought together by gallery owner, Greville Worthington, who has been interested for a number of years in the medium they use.

The manipulation of light is, after all, the basic endeavour in all visual art. Modern technology simply means that artists can now use the real thing, or at least the artificial variety produced by electricity. It allows both new ways of seeing and creating, and a method for revisiting established genres.

Age brings decorum, but there may have been more than a few adults at Saturday's preview night who would like to have taken their cue from children darting excitedly from room to room exclaiming without restraint, because that is the effect this exhibition has.

A word must be said about the building, which has been converted to create a variety of white-painted spaces, large and small, on three floors. Part of the pleasure is in continually opening doors, not knowing what will be on the other side, and then experiencing the wow factor. This exhibition would not be out of place at Tyneside's Baltic or at the Henry Moore Institute in Leeds, and if this standard keeps up, Brompton on Swale might find itself on a regular beaten track between the two, filling what has been a gap in decent display space in North Yorkshire for contemporary art.

Space here does not permit a full, much less fair, evaluation of the works, so the following is purely abitrary and personal. Six works by Turner Prize nominee Catherine Yass are simply stunning, especially - for this occasional theatre reviewer - her photographed interiors of empty auditoriums, brilliantly back-lit and in patches hard to bring into focus. They celebrate architecture, but also visually encode drama, theatricality, musical sound and wild ovations.

Nearby, co-nominee Sam Taylor Wood's memento mori still life filmed study of sumptuous fruit decaying as you watch makes compulsive and repulsive viewing.

Another re-working of a conventional genre is a conversation piece by Middlesbrough artist Richard Forster whose pink plastic chair frames and zigzag neon strip lighting symbolise the dynamics of the therapy session.

Jo Taylor, whose parents live at West Burton, near Leyburn, is one of four artists who use words and lettering. She projects cryptic notes on to the staircase: "a good place for gossip", as she put it on Saturday. Simon Cutts and Florence's Maurizio Nannucci use colour and light to illuminate verbal poetry and give a philosophical dimension to the show.

From Langlands and Bell, there is a "word puzzle" to be worked out if you have the patience and refrain from seeking clues in the catalogue. Less cerebral, rather simply gorgeous, are the abstract, ever-shifting coils and ellipses of colour by Rob and Nick Carter. In James Turrell's room installation, I defy anyone not to feel sheer delight - or, indeed, pure light.

The exhibtion opens on Tuesday and runs daily until June 22, noon-6pm; Wednesdays, noon-9pm (closed Mondays). Pru Farrier