Austin Ivers and Ben Geoghegan present a cross-section of contemporary art from under one roof - their own, writes Aidan Dunne

126 presents . . . is a group show at the Galway Arts Centre representing the culmination of a series of exhibitions organised by Austin Ivers and Ben Geoghegan. It is in a sense a compendium, featuring all of the artists who showed in the original six exhibitions that made up the series. But it is also much more than a compendium in that most of the work on show is new. Both Ivers and Geoghegan are artists, both teach in the fine art department of GMIT, and now both have joined that growing band of hybrids: artist-curators. The existence of the artist-curator could be seen as indicative of a lack in the conventional curatorial set-up, and to some extent it is, but it should not be seen in a negative light. After all, it worked very well for Damien Hirst, who launched his career with Freeze, a landmark showcase for the Young British Artists.

Ivers and Geoghegan are aware of the combination of negative and positive factors. To some extent 126 does have its origins in "a gripe about the visual art scene in Galway". But it has also been an enormously positive experience, and a rewarding one, at least in the purely moral sense of the term, since it has cost them a considerable amount of their own money and untold energy. It should in no sense be seen as a protest or a spoiling exercise. "In the end," Ivers acknowledges, "we are all part of the same arts community."

126 took its name from the address of the home he and Geoghegan share, 126 Laurel Park. This typical suburban house has served as a gallery since the inaugural show last November.

He and Geoghegan first met less than two years ago. "Like so many things in Ireland, it began with a conversation in a pub. We were just moaning about the lack of exhibition venues, and the idea of using the house came up." They don't claim ownership of the idea: it's been done before. But they followed it through with exceptional style and rigour. Geoghegan in particular, Ivers says, is a perfectionist who kept standards high.

"The idea was to show work by contemporary artists who were associated with Galway in some way but for one reason or another had not really exhibited in the city."

THERE WAS NO problem in drawing up a list, which is perhaps telling in itself. "Martin Healy, for example, or Ruth McHugh. Perhaps because she is based in Dublin, her work hadn't been seen here in a long time."

The policy was to invite a few artists to contribute pieces for each show at 126. "We didn't specify the work. That was up to them." It is a modestly scaled house. Space was limited, access was limited.

"We lost our living room. The artists didn't necessarily have anything to gain. But they all, without exception, accepted the invitation."

It's important that the domestic gallery was what might be termed a third space: located somewhere between the commercial and the publicly funded galleries.

"We weren't in conflict with the galleries who represent the artists who exhibited. It wasn't a selling gig. In fact they were extremely co-operative." One of the things that made 126 intriguing was the level of detail that went into each show.

"We thought, well, everyone sends out invitation cards, so we won't do that." For the first show they sent out badges and, thereafter, they never had recourse to conventional cards, always managing to come up with something unorthodox and, incidentally, producing modestly collectible items in the process (including customised fridge magnets and CDs). Visitors to the first opening were also treated to extremely good chocolate cake. "It was all to do with creating a sense of occasion," Ivers explains, something that extended to 126 presents . . ., which incorporated a boat trip on the Corrib Princess. "All the way through we aimed to make it fun, make it memorable."

This attitude gave the series of shows a certain cachet, and an evolving sense of identity, a view with which Ivers concurs. "Yes, I'd even say it was a form of branding. We had to make an impression because we had so little in the way of resources. But the aim was always to direct attention to what we were showing. The bottom line for us has always been the work."

While the sheer variety of approaches of the artists involved dispels any possibility of them making up a school or group, in terms of identity in a looser sense, there is surely some common ground.

This is something that Ivers and Geoghegan found intriguing as the shows succeeded one another, and it becomes much more evident in 126 presents . . . It was impossible to visit 126 without wondering what would happen if these guys were ever let loose in an art gallery proper. 126 presents . . . is the answer, and it is an impressive one. The list of artists is not only very good, it's not at all obvious, which is always interesting.

"Without our ever having that intention," Ivers says, "I think the show operates as a survey. It's a cross-section of contemporary art in the west. And I think a certain sensibility emerges."

The best way to pin down that sensibility is probably to look at the work itself, but the curators also point to "a knowing irony and gentle cynicism" toward the art world as being part of it. That is certainly true, but not in a redundant, incestuous sense of being art about art. It's more to do with a general, critical interest in the mechanics of representation and presentation in general.

The exhibition includes a couple of architectural interventions - "Ben's idea," Ivers says - that are a nice reminder of its origins.

Effectively they roughen slightly the well-finished gallery space of the Arts Centre, something that echoes the concerns of Blaise Drummond's installation, which explores the relationship between nature and Utopian modernism. One might also point to a very strong group of painters, including Mark Joyce, Sarah Durcan, Fionna Murray, Beth O'Halloran, Des Shortt and Philippa Sutherland (who shows three beautiful landscape-based pieces).

PHOTOGRAPHY IS ALSO well represented, with Amy O'Riordan, Geoghegan himself, Michael Minnis, Martin Healy and Martina Cleary, whose ingenious, dream-like composite images use the idea of the dwelling as symbolic of the self. McHugh also uses photography brilliantly, but in the context of a wider sculptural scheme, in a way that is echoed in Ann Mulrooney's Rorscharch maps and Tom Molloy's ominous Swarm. Nevan Lehart and Iain Hetherington are both gleefully iconoclastic.

Breda Lynch's Silent Twins is the only drawing, and Niamh McCann's hybrid logo neon sculpture is very apposite in the context of airline takeovers and mergers.

The 126 phenomenon can be seen in the context of a developing visual arts scene in Galway. Tulca, the city's fledgling visual arts festival, which is coming up again next month, has been important in raising awareness and providing opportunities for artists. And the opening of the Ard Bia Gallery has given the city its first cutting-edge commercial space.

All of the above presumably encouraged the advent of artisit?, a group of shows and events featuring the work of younger artists and organised by the artists themselves (the venues are the Fisheries Tower, NUI Galway, 8 Bowling Green and Ard Bia Café, running until Oct 28th).

As Ivers puts it: "Things have changed. It seemed as if there were a number of venues that were there forever, and now it's them - plus all these other possibilities."

The pressure is inevitable, he argues. "There are so many more artists now, but we are still a small population. It's particularly difficult for young artists. What do they do? Go to established galleries and they say: You haven't really shown enough yet. So they do the rounds of B-list arts centres and then the galleries say, mmm, you've had too many shows."

Which leads to the next instalment of 126. Ivers and Geoghegan are in the process of negotiating an exhibition space which, all going well, will be inaugurated as part of this year's Tulca festival. They have younger artists in mind and have looked to the city council for backing. "We are thinking in terms of the model of artist-led spaces elsewhere, including Catalyst Arts in Belfast and Transmission in Glasgow."

There's no feeling of being in opposition to other venues in the city, he is at pains to point out. "Our aim is to open things out, to expand the discourse." The trick will be to make the transition from outlaws to sheriffs while maintaining "the vim-iness, the zest" of 126.

The omens are good.

126 presents . . . is at the Galway Arts Centre until Oct 21