There is a moment during the Adagio from Mozart's Duo for Violin and Viola when Jonathan Morton and Catherine Marwood play, simultaneously, one sustained note that encapsulates a magnificent transformation. All the vibrations of the string intensify, producing a tangle of resonant echoes, and a rather abstractly posed sound suddenly becomes a musical gesture, and all the latent strength in the performers' bodies is awakened and distilled in a unifying action.

There is a moment during the Adagio from Mozart's Duo for Violin and Viola when Jonathan Morton and Catherine Marwood play, simultaneously, one sustained note that encapsulates a magnificent transformation. All the vibrations of the string intensify, producing a tangle of resonant echoes, and a rather abstractly posed sound suddenly becomes a musical gesture, and all the latent strength in the performers' bodies is awakened and distilled in a unifying action.

These kinds of moments are what the Scottish Ensemble excel at: something extraordinary happens, whenever they perform.

Morton's playing, in the duo and later in Mozart's Sonata in F, is exemplary. Each phrase is filled with a drama and a lightness of touch that is hard won and deceptively robust. His movement conveys impressive fluency and fluidity, and he seems to deploy the entirety of his musicality with every twitch and foot tap. Stravinsky's Suite Italienne for Cello and Piano gave a contrasting feel to this concert, and was performed by Alison Lawrance and Fali Pavri, who delivered the colourful exoticism of this work with crisp playfulness.

Their timing and pace were immaculate and enhanced their reassuring professionalism. It must be one of the great joys of listening to the Scottish Ensemble that they manage to make every concert an event; one is reminded that music is something present and exciting, not because of its message or political point, but simply by virtue of the excellence of its form.