Florence Mackenzie

The Foundling Hospital, established in the 1740s, was Britain's first home for abandoned children. Its many stories are now preserved in a museum that sits on the original site. That Tracey Emin and Paula Rego agreed to present work here comes as no surprise, for the story of neglect is as much their own and ideas of abandonment and childlike fear pervade their artistic practices.

Rego, whose parents left her, aged one, in the care of her grandmother and manic-depressive aunt, grew up a solitary child. She has created a monumental piece, which for the first time pairs her drawings and sculpture. Oratorio, formed from the structure of Portuguese devotional altars, opens like a cabinet of anxieties. Rego replaces typical religious iconography with harrowing scenes of rape and solitude, all in her familiar bold colours and expressive style. One of the images shows a woman dangling a child by its foot, a reference both to Gin Lane by Hogarth (who was a great patron of the Hospital), and to the notorious photograph of Michael Jackson and his son. Nestled at the base of these pictures, set up like some sinister nativity display, are an array of child-sized dolls dressed in the authentic Foundling uniforms. The 'children', wearing frowns of melancholy and frustration, seek comfort from each other, but Rego, as she does so well, skews conventions and presents a disturbing arrangement.

Rego's work is moving but not sad. A mother of three and a grandmother, she was with her great love, artist Victor Willing, for thirty years until he died. But in Emin's oeuvre, there seems always to be a palpable sadness, a yearning. Her contributions here are no exception. The most poignant example is a display of babies' clothes and shoes from a collection that Emin has built up over years - mini wool dresses in soft pinks, all unworn.

Emin, who has no children, is famous for her frank, unashamed portrayals of the difficulties that have marred her life: an absent father; rape at 13; and two abortions. Yet we admire rather than pity her. A series of monoprints from 1991, made when Emin was pregnant, portray images of mother and baby and are printed on kids' exercise book paper.

If Mat Collishaw appears to be the odd one out here, he is not. As a father himself and one of four brothers, he is the male presence. His lightbox Children of a Lesser God packs a punch. Echoing the legend of Romulus and Remus, two babies are suckled by a wild bitch while the dog viciously bares his fangs. The sofa they sit on could be found in any modern home, as if Collishaw is drawing attention to the prevalence of neglect and child abuse that persists behind closed doors in today's society - kids end up scavenging to survive just like the family pets do.