Sir John Lavery's The Tennis Party

The other Sunday I had one of my days in town: the Glasgow Boys exhibition at the Royal Academy, lunch in Soho, Slackistan at the ICA, and afternoon hot chocolate, Love and Other Drugs at the Apollo Cinema and ending with a quick swim at the gym. Which is after all a hundred yards from the Apollo.

The Glasgow Boys exhibition was pleasant. A bunch of thoroughly professional painters making perfectly acceptable art. Nothing that makes you go "wow!" or makes you wonder if they would notice if you took it off the wall and hid it under your jacket. This one caught me.

It gets better as you look at it. There's the gate to the court, open as if to let us in. The way the figures seem to be caught in movement - especially how the central players. Then there's the way the dappled light points into the court, leading the eye, the light on the chicken wire at the back of the court on the right, the way the spectators are grouped, and finally the trees, forming a backdrop but not overwhelming the scene. That fence around the court is extraordinarily well-done: it's the same height all the way round - a detail that many painters would not bother with.

I found myself smiling after a while and was sure I could hear the sound of the match - shades of Blow-Up. It's a small painting of a small subject, but nonetheless charming for that. And there's nothing wrong with charming, especially when it's this well done.