This is a particularly difficult review to write, basically because there is so little that stands out as interesting or innovative, eye-catching, dramatic or technically skillful.

There are very few paintings that leap out shouting "Look at me, look at me'' and similarly little that can be condemned for being absolutely hideous. There were no intakes of breath, no gasps of wonderment, no shrieks of horror as I walked through the gallery. Words like `nice', `okay', spring to mind but generally the whole thing was, well, a bit bland really.

Perhaps it was something to do with the subject matter. There seemed to be so many pictures of coastal scenes, brightly coloured fishing boats, waves crashing against the rocks, marzipan cottages and the like that the show became a bit of a bore. It's true that Bermuda is an island, and a beautiful one at that, but I wish local painters could find inspiration in something different just for a change.

There are, as ever, exceptions. Vaughan Evans is one artist who, in this show at least, has broken free from the usual Bermudian genre. He chose to take on a couple of challenging subjects in "Traders Tent'' and "Red Lines Under The Awning''-- lively scenes full of energy, bustle and human activity that were confidently executed.

Wisely these two watercolours were positioned facing the entrance to the gallery, giving them maximum impact.

Christopher Marson has three watercolours of mixed success on display.

"Dockyard'' is a wonderfully luminous painting kept very simple -- just a distant suggestion of Dockyard on the horizon set against an expanse of vibrant sky and calm waters.

But his two other watercolours show a lack basic draughtsmanship and handling of the medium. The results were a bit messy.

When I first saw "A Bermuda Reef Fantasy'' by Joyce Beale I thought it looked like an ink blot test -- a watery splurge of reds, oranges and greens and not much else. I became even more cynical about it when I noticed that the painting had been hung upside down.

But then strange things started to happen. Was that a fish darting out from a piece of coral? And there goes another one, no, wait hang on, it's gone again.

Fish came and went, anemones stuck out and then retracted their petals and the whole picture magically came alive before my eyes.

A later conversation with Mrs. Beale revealed that, only after she had signed the painting and left it on her kitchen table did she notice that it looked better the wrong way up. Good for her.

Desmond Fountain exhibited four very naturalistic bronzes of toads and lizards which were all skillfully modelled, the toads looking suitably slimy and warty, the lizards as if they could scurry away at any moment.

Anything else that stands out? Well, Jonah Jones, who has just had a one-man-show at the City Hall, put in two small oil studies.

I can't help feeling that Mr. Jones has got into a bit of a rut. He seems to have found a certain formula for painting and sticks to it religiously, almost as though each canvas is on a production line. Perhaps I'm being unfair here but his pictures always seem to have a few signature elements which he feels necessary to add, regardless of whether or not they actually exist. "Palms'' is a typical example of this but "Mills Creek'' is refreshingly different.

Here Mr. Jones for once has resisted the temptation to add a slash of pastel orange or pink and the result is a lot more convincing and atmospheric.

There was the usual clutter of below grade stuff. Proctor Martin's "Windblown'' was just a mess to me -- although perhaps it was meant to be -- but I did enjoy his "Standing Fast'' and "Winter Swell''.

Bob Herr's "Island Light'' was anything but and Elyse Nierenberg's "South Shore Surf'' was again hideously overpriced for something that was quite lifeless and badly painted. And then there was a sea of pretty coloured fishing boats, seagulls and cottages, a lot of which were badly painted.

GARETH FINIGHAN