The romantic connotations of tuning up have never previously occurred to me. But there they are, in several of the paintings at the National Gallery’s new Vermeer and Music: The Art of Love and Leisure exhibition, those amorous Dutchmen twiddling their pegs while the young lady sits patiently at the virginal, musicians with one thing on their mind. Much that appears in art is, of course, allegorical, and we here learn that in 17th-century painting, tuning up prior to a duet often represents a prelude to love. I shall never hear the cacophony from a pre-performance pit in quite the same way again.

That role of music as motif is the major theme of this exhibition. One of the first works we encounter, Vanitas Still Life by Jan Jansz Treck, is a richly symbolic contemplation of the transitory nature of life: instruments, a shallow shell and reed used for blowing bubbles, a recorder tucked into an hour glass, the ensemble topped with a skull. Life, like music, is ephemeral.

Musical subjects in fact account for about 12 per cent of all 17th-century Dutch paintings, and the four Vermeers here - two from the National Gallery’s collection, one on loan from Kenwood House while it is refurbished, and one from the Royal Collection - are presented alongside pieces by his contemporaries. Music-making was a major part of Dutch life: the country had then neither a monarchy nor powerful church, the two key patrons of music enjoyed elsewhere in Europe at the time, thus it became something performed as a collaborative activity in the home. The exhibition space has been designed to evoke the domestic environment depicted in so many of the paintings, with windows offering glimpses into other areas. A number of instruments of the era are also exhibited. A beautiful ebony and ivory 17th century 11-course lute links two of the rooms, while a guitar by René Voboam from the Ashmolean (also boasting a major music-related exhibition this summer, Stradivarius - see my recent blog) is uncannily similar to the one depicted by Vermeer.

Music-making helped forge friendships and seal deals - both business and personal. It was one of the few activities when men and women could get together without a chaperone: in several works it’s not entirely clear whether we’re witnessing a music lesson, or a courtship scene, or a bit of both. A cabinet contains a collection of small Dutch songbooks, full of tunes about romance and illicit assignations, pocket-sized presents which would have been given as gifts to a sweetheart. In a painting by Jan Steen a woman sits primly playing a keyboard bearing the inscription 'Soli Deo Gloria' (solely for the glory of God) while a man leans louchely on the lid against words which translate as 'actions prove the man'. We know not which outcome won, though just off-stage we see someone approaching the scene bearing an outsized theorbo: perhaps an intimate duet is in the offing.

One could conjecture all day, and have great fun doing so, but also worth spending time contemplating is how successfully each artist has managed to evoke music - always a challenge in art, the conveying of sound in silence. Partially parted lips, fingers fretting, raised hands, a glance at you the viewer, all these help. In one particularly effective piece by Hendrick Ter Brugghen, The Concert, the viewer can almost hear the notes drifting from the Caravaggesque calmness.

Not that you even need to use your imagination. A concert programme to accompany the exhibition sees members of the Academy of Ancient Music performing the sort of music depicted. The one I heard featured works by the Englishman Dowland and the Italian Frescobaldi, highlighting that for all its domesticity, Dutch music-making was far from insular. This creative collaboration aids insight and adds atmosphere, and you can hear a variety of artists and instruments on Thursday, Friday and Saturday throughout the exhibition (see AAM website for details). Much to enjoy - but remember, that whether a shorthand for temperance or sophistication, or for lovers in harmony, or stilled instruments indicating the transience of life, when it comes to these works by Vermeer and his contemporaries, there’s more to music than meets the ear.