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Aug 19

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Sunday Supplement – Cityscape I: London

London is the word on everyone’s lips right now. Yes, the olympic games are over, but the paralympics will start in just under a week, and the buzz around them continues to grow. For the influx of visitors descending upon our currently hot and humid jam-packed olympian city, the river will be a highlight of their sightseeing tour, the huge central artery which snakes through the crowded metropolis, marking the physical divide between the characteristically different North and South, providing grand vistas aplenty from the many elegant wide bridges, and, on the South Bank, playing host to the rejuvenated cultural heartbeat of the city.  On the river too stand some of London’s most prominent sights: the Tower of London, Tower Bridge, the London Assembly Building, the London Eye, and this one: The iconic Houses of Parliament.

What the Eiffel Tower is to Paris, Big Ben is to London. Strangely enough, Big Ben is the bell in the tower rather than the tower itself, but it’s this high-gothic, grand and decadent campanile which gets the tourists excited and marks the beginning of each new year with such ceremony and aplomb, surrounded by fireworks, the iconic spectacle marking the passage of every significant moment in the city’s history. The view of Big Ben and the House of Parliament to its side have understandably inspired photographers and artists throughout the ages. Monet was fascinated by the effect of light in the dense fog surrounding the looming silhouette of Parliament, while Turner painted the fiery ravage of Parliament’s predecessor repeatedly.

This is my take on Parliament. It’s part of my cityscape collection, a small group of city views which I painted back in 2007 when I was trying to get the hang of oil paints after a long period of painting in acrylics. So it’s more of a study piece really, but still one of my favourite pieces of London.

Oh, and if you like it and fancy my painting hanging in your home, you can get limited edition prints of the work on my main website here.

Cityscape I: London (2012 © Nicholas de Lacy-Brown, oil on canvas)

Have a great Sunday.

© Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm, 2001-2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work, photography or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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Aug 16

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The Daily Sketch: Norms at the Musée Rodin

The London 2012 olympics are over, and the Norms have a heavy dose of iPod (“I’m Post-olympically depressed”) syndrome. Where better then to go and while away the days before the glorious paralympics begin than to cross La Manche and to head to London’s sister city, the glamorous centre of all things aesthetically superior, the city of light, Paris. And as it’s summer, the Norms are naturally attracted to the outside – to the passage of time amongst trees and well tended lawns, amongst grand houses and elegant roses, where the butterflies flutter and the birds sing their summer song.

But the Norms are a cultured folk, and they like to pass their days with a heavy dose of art to boot. Where better then than the Musée Rodin, home of the pensive Le Penseur Norm and the ever romantic The Norms Kiss sculptures, created by that great 19th century sculptor, Norm Rodin himself. Perfectly trimmed topiary and beautifully tended gardens with a backdrop of the decadent Hôtel Biron and a picture perfect view of Les Invalides and the Tour Eiffel herself. Who could ask for more? Vive Les Norms a Paris!

Norms at the Musée Rodin, Paris (2012 © Nicholas de Lacy-Brown, pen on paper)

© Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm, 2001-2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work, photography or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Aug 13

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My urban balcony garden Part 2: Brugmansia in Bloom

In my July post, My urban balcony garden (which was so spectacularly well received after being featured on “Freshly Pressed” – thanks everyone for the generous comments and feedback), I promised that once my favourite plant – my Brugmansia, came into bloom, I’d get it up on my blog asap.

The beauty of a garden, even the smallest and most controlled of little urban gardens such as mine, is the power of the seasons and the relentless passing of time to change the shape, colour, fragrance and feel of a garden as plants grow and recede, flowers bloom and shrivel, insects come and go and leaves grow and fall. No greater is this change felt on my balcony than the time in mid summer when my Brugmansia bursts into a cornucopia of sunset pink flowers.

The plant, which is a native South American plant but which I first saw in the carefully tended gardens of Sunny Marbella (in a Southern Spain), is an absolute stunner which is not exactly common in England. In fact the only other time I’ve seen one here has been inside the greenhouses of Kew Gardens. However somehow, perhaps because some kind of green-fingered god is waving his wand over my balcony, my Brugmansia, which resides outside subjected to the seasonal capriciousness of London’s weather, has survived the six years since I moved into the flat, and has given me a spectacular bloom year after year.

The plant does not flower for long (generally two cycles, once around July-August and again around October-November) but when it does, it is utterly spectacular. The plant almost doubles in size and at any one time can display around 50 huge trumpet-like flowers. The blooms are incredible. They start off a creamy white, and as the first evening of their life draws on, the end of the flower becomes gradually pinker, like an ombre sunset design. They really are summer flowers, since they are at their best in the evenings – by day time they hang fairly limply, but at night the open wide and strong, aiming to attract night time insects with their colour and their fragrance. Oh that perfume, that smell! – if only this blog had the power to transpose it. The perfume wafting from these flowers on a warm summer’s evening is exquisite. Like lemon and jasmine all rolled into one. It’s incredible.

So when capturing the flowers for my post as promised, I had to get up at 5am, at the first light of dawn, to photograph the blooms open but in good light. The results are glorious, as the warm golden early morning sun brings out the potency of pink in the flower and the luscious verdant green of the leaves.

My urban balcony garden never looks better than when its Brugmansia blooms. Take a look at my little slice of the tropics in London. Sadly, you’ll have to imagine the smell.

All photos are strictly the copyright of Nicholas de Lacy-Brown © 2012 and The Daily Norm. All rights are reserved. 

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Aug 12

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London 2012 – a city celebrates

Being a Londoner, in London, when the Olympics rocked up on our doorstep and the focus of the world followed suit, has been an incredible experience which I wouldn’t have missed for the world. London has changed. Yes, Big Ben still chimes where it always did, and the London Eye still turns steadily next to the mighty River Thames. But during the two weeks of the olympics, the spirit of London underwent a tangible transformation. It was like being at school when a special holiday was being celebrated – the school was the same, but being their felt different, exciting. Similarly, being in London during the games has felt incredibly exciting, thrilling and the source of utmost pride.

Of course if you were a “Games Maker” or attended the huge olympic park, the excitement would, undoubtedly, have been explosive, breathable, physically all-encompassing. But for those of us, like me, who had to work during the games, and who, like many others, were unable to get tickets to the grand olympic park over in Stratford, the changing mood of the city was still unmistakably discernible.  On the tube, people did not rush on with stern moody faces, pushing past each other, losing all semblance of civility. Rather, they would walk around with smiles, reading excitedly about the latest gold medal rush in the papers, and listening enthusiastically to the plethora of foreign languages which could be heard all around. On the streets, the feeling of British patriotism has reached an all time high, but mixes convivially with the respective national pride which is evident in those millions of foreign visitors who have descended upon our city from all over the world. Along the River Thames, the many bridges have been illuminated to spectacular effect, and all along the southbank, a brilliant cultural olympiad has celebrated the arts as well as sport. On TV and in the press, journalists have run out of superlatives to describe these games. Well organised, welcoming, record-breaking, fantastically attended. It’s been brilliant, amazing, a life-changing experience, a moment of insuperable national pride.

Huge rings welcome tourists from eurostar

A feeling of internationalism is everywhere

Like the end of any summer holiday, the climax of the Olympics tonight will be a sad moment for us all. Going back to work, as the olympic flags come down and the city returns to normal, will be tinged with an inexorable feeling of depression. But through it all, the memories live on, and London, as a city, will continue to thrive in the spirit of goodwill and international recognition. More than anything the olympics have made us Londoners proud of our city, which has so much to offer, so much going on, incredible sites and wonderful facilities. For these reasons, people will continue to visit us, long after the olympic spotlight has passed, and for those of us living here, a new inbuilt respect and admiration for our city has been created, an optimism for the future, and a celebration of the past.

The photos I enclose with this post are not really sports-related. Trying to get hold of tickets was like a search for the holy grail. Consequently my photos are confined to the small changes I have witnessed while carrying on my normal London life – rings on Tower Bridge, banners on the lamp posts, and those cute little mascots springing up all over the city. Enjoy!

© Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm, 2001-2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work, photography or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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Aug 9

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The Daily Sketch London 2012 – 100 metres at the Athletics Stadium

It’s the race that everyone wants to see. It’s over in less than 10 seconds, and yet it’s one of the most watched televised events when it occurs every 4 years in the Norm olympics. For the London games, there is no exception. As the huge multi-petal copper cauldron burns on, and the chants of the massive Norm crowd are roused to an almost deafening volume, the Norm athletes prepare themselves for the race of their life. There is no running in Norm-land, only bouncing, but boy do these Norms bounce fast. Blink twice and you’ll miss it. So hold tight and keep your eyes wide open. Get set, ready – it’s the Norm 100 metres – GO!

Norms in the Athletics stadium (2012 © Nicholas de Lacy-Brown, pen on paper)

© Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm, 2001-2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work, photography or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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Aug 8

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24 hours in Paris: Part 3 – One photo for every hour

24 hours – 24 photos. It’s a nicely symmetrical homage to Paris, the city whose beauty knows no boundaries and whose charm could knock the socks off even the most sceptical of tourists. It’s been hard to choose just 24 photos for this little album. Just one day in Paris provided me with over 500 shots, each capturing something of the individual essence of a city whose character and allure is unique. Slate grey rooftops and sun dappled gardens, sunset over the iconic Paris skyline and reflected against glossy boutique shop fronts. Romance in a photo; beauty in a frame. What more can I say? I’ll let Paris do the talking.

All photos are strictly the copyright of Nicholas de Lacy-Brown © 2012 and The Daily Norm. All rights are reserved.

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Aug 7

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24 hours in Paris: Part 2

08:00 hrs

The bustle of Paul patisserie opening on the street below, Parisians arriving early to collect their daily share of baguettes placed in a cosy group of 5 or 6 in a brown paper bag, tourists catching a quick petit dejeuner in the first rays of morning sun and the local green grocer accepting deliveries of vibrant ripe fruits et légumes – these were the sounds that greeted us as the daylight of my birthday Parisian morning flooded into our little bijoux boudoir in the heart of the Rive Gauche. As is birthday tradition, I sat up in bed, stretched out a yawn and gathered together the modest stack of birthday cards I had brought with me on the trip – not that there was anywhere to display them here, but it was good to have the birthday wishes of loved ones and colleagues to kickstart my 29th birthday. Bon Anniversaire a Moi.

09:30 hrs

After a leisurely shower, the receipt of a few more birthday messages on my phone (birthday cards for the modern generation) and having packed up our bags, we checked out, all too soon, of the Hotel de Buci, leaving our bags and heading for the often over-looked wonders of Saint Sulpice church nearby. Finding none of the bustling cafes promised in my Paris guidebook, we headed back to the Rue de Buci where it turns into the Rue St Andre des Arts. I feel at home there. In the Rue des Grands Augustins round the corner, Picasso painted his masterpiece Guernica which has been such an important influence in my own work. There, for only 10 euros each, we had a gloriously French petit dejeuner – freshly squeezed jus d’orange, a buttery crispy croissant, a super crunchy French baguette and a large cappuccino. Yum.

Saint Sulpice

and the huge fountain opposite

Le Petit Dejeuner

11:00 hrs

So used are we to visiting Paris in the winter that I was intent on doing some jardins. Where best to start off then than to mix art with gardens at the Musée Rodin. There, the works of Auguste Rodin are showed off to spectacular effect, including the most famous of them all – The Gates of Hell, The Thinker and The Kiss – set amongst countless perfectly trimmed conical shaped hedges which remind of Alice in Wonderland in the perfectly pruned court of the Queen of Hearts. The sculptures are displayed in and outside the gorgeous Hôtel Biron where the artist, along with several others, rented a flat towards the end of his life. He was obviously doing well. The museum does not captivate me in the same way that the d’Orsay does for example. Once I’ve seen a few figure sculptures, I stare blankly and the rest, seeking something more, looking for something to grab hold of my attention. This is unlike the challenging shapes of Henry Moore for example, which activate my imagination in the same way that an abstracted portrait by Picasso ignites my mind compared to a formal state portrait. For me Rodin was on the brink of doing something stunningly modern, but probably because of the time he worked in, he didn’t quite push the boundaries enough. Still, for morning tranquility despite the tourist throngs, the Musée Rodin was spot on.

13:00 hrs

Heading over towards the spectacular gold-fringed Pont Alexandre III, we stopped off briefly to awe at Les Invalides with its similarly extravagant gilded domed roof, and the amazing view of the Tour Eiffel beyond it. Was a city ever so perfectly pretty as Paris?

13:30 hrs

Despite the continuous temptation to stop and take photos of this beautiful city (although the I must have around 10,000 at home) we arrived on time for our reservation at the Café Marly under large portico terrace along the side of the Louvre courtyard. With views right over the spectacular Louvre pyramid, this café can’t be beaten for its incredible vista and its elegant surroundings. The prices aren’t cheap, but they are reflected in the quality of the food. We opted for two light dishes – a crab and avocado salad (the avocado was so creamy it was divine) dressed in a refreshing lime and chilli, and a melon with san daniele ham (the melon was incredibly sweet, juicy and unctuous, and the ham perfectly soft and salty). This was washed down with two glasses of chablis, followed by two more of pink Moët & Chandon (well it was my birthday after all). For dessert we had two combinations of raspberry deliciousness – a lemon tart with raspberries atop it, and a raspberry mille feuille. Café Marly comes well recommended – but ensure you make a reservation in advance.

15:30 hrs

We stumbled down the Rue de Rivoli next, towards our regular haunt of the Marais, cute boutique-lined district, favourite of the chic-set. Here we were on a search for some French vintage posters, but all of our leads came to nothing. If shops weren’t closed “pour les vacances” they failed to exist. We had better luck however when we passed over the river, traversing the cute little Ile St Louis (where we found another print shop – closed for the holidays) and Ile de la Cité and finding on the left bank opposite the Notre Dame a huge selection of old book and print sellers. Usually I pass these stalls, assuming they contain tourist tack – not so. True, the prints are all reproductions, but who cares. The quality looks great and you could buy 3 for 20 euros. I think we ended up with 9!

17:00 hrs

Back on that garden trail now, and we headed, almost full circle, back to the 6th and into the magnificent Jardins du Luxembourg. Never before have I seen these gardens look so good – the flower beds were beautiful coordinated in every conceivable shade of yellow, those few Parisians remaining in the city lounged in the shade provided by large leafed chestnut trees, creating as they did a beautiful impressionistic dapple of sunlight over the cafes and little loose benches placed haphazardly all over the park. There too, families were at play – little children ran enthusiastically around the large central pond, pushing miniature sailing boats from one side to the other while parents, basking in the August sunshine, looked on contentedly. Once we sat down in one of those little reclining metal chairs, there was almost no moving us until the clock struct 6 and our return journey began to claw us back to the train tracks.

18:30 hrs

Resiting the pull of the train in our final hour of freedom, we headed back to the Rue de Buci and indulged in a massive plate of charcuterie and fromage, with two little glasses of overly warm Bordeaux on the side and a basket full of holey French bread. There we reflected upon our 24 hours in Paris – how is it that in a time so short, we felt like we had been in the city for so many days? Is it because we know it so well, that we are easily re-embraced back into the fold? Or is it because our senses had been overloaded with the beauty all around? Whatever the reason, it all went to show how easy a little trip to this quasi-London suburb can be – 2.20 hrs on the train and another world awaits. Who could resist? I won’t be.

© Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm, 2001-2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work, photography or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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Aug 6

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24 hours in Paris: Part 1

24 hours is not a long time, but when you spend it in the city of light, of love, and of every other superlative you can throw at it, 24 hours is a ripe excuse to live life to the full – Paris style. A birthday is only one day of 365, and yet it is my belief that it should be appropriately marked. After all, don’t we all deserve to feel special for the day? But with London hosting the world’s greatest sporting event, there was no way I could drag myself away from the city for too long for this year’s birthday celebrations. So for a short burst of Birthday happiness, Paris (now so easy to get to via eurostar it feels like an extension of London) was the obvious choice. Here are my 24 hours in that magical city.

20:00 hrs

Walking up the steps of any Paris metro station, up onto the streets of the city centre for the first time is always a thrill. Nothing can surpass the architectural splendour of the city, where beauty is consistent from street to street, where Parisians mill from one red-canoped cafe to the next, art nouveau is the design of choice, and a contagion of chic spreads from shop to shopper to every passer by and even to the poodles. After a smooth journey commencing under the huge Olympic rings suspended proudly over the tracks of St Pancras International, to the rather less glamourous welcome of the Gare du Nord in Paris and straight onto the Metro, we arrived at our final destination: the Boulevard Saint Germain des Pres, where, on a small cafe-packed Rue de Buci just round the corner from Les Deux Magots, we checked into our hotel of the same name, where a small but perfectly boutique-chic boudoir awaited us, with perfect views of the street below.

The Hotel de Buci (on the right)

Our rooftop view

21:00 hrs

Having made full use of the Hotel de Buci’s elegant facilities, we headed out across Paris, across the Pont des Arts where we were treated to the most spectacular view of Paris at sunset. The sky was like a stracciatella of chocolate rippling clouds across rich layers of rich golden yellows and zesty oranges. When we proceeded through the Cour Carree in the Sully courtyard of the Louvre, the view of I.M.Pei’s glass pyramid with the same, now deepened sunset behind it together with the flashing lights of the Tullleries funfair and the momentous silhouette of the rooftops of the Louvre  was just mind-blowing. Did Paris ever look so good?

22:00 hrs

We rushed off towards our late reservation at a previously favourite eatery in Paris: Jean Georges’ Market  Restaurant (Avenue Matignon, 15), just off the Champs Élysées. Past experience of the restaurant had been excellent – a super chic atmosphere, beautifully presented food, largely asian fusion in origin, all served on a tranquil restaurant floor with subdued lighting, meticulous waiting staff and cool lounge-bar sound track. But what was potent chic of a winter’s evening appeared to have been heavily diluted come the summer. Such is perhaps a symptom of Paris in August, when the Parisians flee for the coast, and Paris is left to the tourists. Since trade is passing, the restaurants let their standards slip. And this was certainly the case at Market, where a menu entitled “taste of the summer” offered diners a choice of utterly random dishes for 38 euros per head. Quite asides from the high price tag (which notably hadn’t slipped along with the standards – and don’t even get me started on the wine list) the mix of food was such a hodge-bodge of world cuisines that it was a real struggle to choose two dishes which would actually work together as a meal. Thus you had ravioli on the one hand, and sushi on the other, chicken samosas for a starter, and american hamburgers for after. Controversially I went for the latter combination – and believe me I did not relish the idea of going American while in Paris, when really I should have been supping upon snails and oysters. Nor did I relish the company of the tourists all around me. I spent much of the meal listening to a couple next door talk about the benefit of Tesco clubcard points. Oh mon dieu. To be fair though, the food was good – it just wasn’t worth over 130 euros for the pleasure.

Vuitton’s collaboration with Yayoi Kosama

24:00 hrs

After two hours realising the hard way that Paris in August is a mecca for tourist-tat, we decided that if we couldn’t beat ’em, we would join ’em and headed straight for the Eiffel Tower (via the indubitably chic Avenue Montaigne, lined with the creme de la creme of Parisian high fashion, including, I noted, Yayoi Kusama’s spotty collaboration with Louis Vuitton). The Tour Eiffel is an undisputed tourist icon, favourite of the souvenir tacky-train, splashed across postcards, t-shirts and every other kind of tourist paraphernalia and yet it’s still one of my favourite sights in the city. There’s nothing more magnificent in my opinion that the first view of the vast bulk of the tower when you turn a corner and see the elegant structure rising almost super-human above the nearby overshadowed houses. The sheer audacity of the structure never fails to amaze – how could Gustav Eiffel have ever been so daring as to build something so huge and so utterly alien to the surrounding landscape? It was too late to ascend, but it was surely worth the visit to witness the tower sparkling with several thousand tiny white lights like the world’s biggest diamond at the strike of midnight – what a way to officially start my birthday. Notably however we were not so drunk on birthday spirit that we gave into the relentless approaches of pesky street-sellers trying to force bottles of warm champagne into our hand. Can you imagine anything more lacking in finesse?

Eiffel art…

01:00 hrs

Heading back to the Saint Germain des Pres, I decided it was a good idea to walk from the Eiffel Tower all the way back to the 6th arrondissement – after all, it looks close on the map. Well guess what, it wasn’t, and an hour or so later, with very, very painful feet, we finally made it back to our welcoming soft bed in the Hotel de Buci, where, with curtains open so that we could close our eyes with a moonlit view of the rooftops of Paris, we sunk into a soft sleep, ready and waiting for the daylight to tease our eyelids back open, announcing the start of a whole new day and another bout of birthday celebrations in Paris.

More on that, tomorrow.

Aug 5

7 Comments

The Daily Sketch London 2012 – Normington v El Normo at Wimbledon

It’s match point and Norm Normington, representing team GB is serving to win gold in the London 2012 Olympic tennis finals. However it’s not easy. Against him is world champion winner of various Norm Tennis grand slams, Norte El Normo, representing Spain. El Normo doesn’t just bounce around like a normal Norm tennis player would do. He can do backflips and high jumps and all sorts of distracting but spectacular moves which make him a real contender for the gold. Despite this, Normington, every the English gentlenorm, polite in his play but devilish in his super-fast serve and quick-fire backhand, is out on top, spurred by the proudest of all home crowds, rousing him to success with their roof-raising cheers and their chants of “Go Normington, Go!”. They’ve even been partial to the odd mexican wave or two during today’s match, which is most unusual for the reserved Englishnorm. Just goes to show how the Olympic spirit is lifting us all, and brining all Norms together as a single Normular nation under the sporting flag. But when it comes to victory, it’s nationality that counts. The question now is will Normington do it for team Great Britain?

Normington v El Normo – Tennis Final, London 2012 (© Nicholas de Lacy-Brown 2012, pen on paper)

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Aug 4

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London 2012: Infected by Olympic Fever – Tennis at Wimbledon

I’m not a big sports fan. I don’t really know the terminology, and my familiarity with the various sports stars extends as far as those faces who regularly hit the headlines and are splashed across perfume promotions and London buses. However there is something utterly contagious about the Olympic spirit which has swept throughout London and up and down the British isles which just cannot be resisted. The aim of London’s bid was to bring all Britons and people from throughout the world together under the olympic flag, to create a huge party of spectators enjoying the adrenaline rush engendered by sporting achievement and to inspire future generations to enjoy sport and aim for sporting brilliance. They’re all cliches, the stuff of marketing machines, but what the last week has proved to me, is that those objectives have really manifested – I feel inspired by sport, part of the global sporting party and loving every minute of London 2012.

Wimbledon green with the distinctive Olympics purple

The Wimbledon Wenlock

As with many Britons, I found it difficult to get any olympic tickets, despite applying for a good few (and yes, like everyone else, I am secretly seething inside at seeing so many empty seats at the events – a byproduct of the Olympics’ necessary reliance upon corporate sponsorship and IOC executives who then don’t bother to turn up, depriving so many future generations of the opportunity to be inspired). However the one set of tickets I did get was to see men’s semi-finals tennis at Wimbledon. This was a double whammy for me. Not only did it mean I would get to visit the British home of Tennis (tickets for the main Wimbledon tournament are as easy to get your hands on as the holy grail) but it also meant that I would be treated to not one, not two, but three matches played by undisputed tennis royalty.

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