The London Mozart Players’ flight of fancy soars to Heaven’s Gate at St Martin-in-the-Fields

It is unusual to see the names of Samuel Coleridge-Taylor and Antonín Dvořák in the same sentence, and I can’t remember the last time I heard pieces by both of them in the same concert. Yet, there they both were, courtesy of the inventiveness of the London Mozart Players, at St Martin-in-the-Fields, taking part in the ensemble’s ‘Flights of Fancy’. Interestingly, the programme referenced a concert that Coleridge-Taylor conducted in 1903 which included the premiere of two movements from a work-in-progress, his Noveletten for Strings, alongside Dvořák’s Serenade for Strings in E major. The other works were a sketch, Joanna Marsh’s In Winter’s House which evoked the pastoralism of Ralph Vaughan Williams, and a masterpiece by the great man himself, The Lark Ascending. The strings of the LMP, having a night out on their own, were in very fine form, the richness of their tone and the elegance of their phrasing casting a rapturous spell that made me forget the pandemonium that is Trafalgar Square.

Coleridge-Taylor and the LMP have Croydon in common; it was the composer’s home-town and where the ensemble is based. So it is fitting that the former’s work should be in the repertoire of the latter, particularly in the year that marks the 150th anniversary of his birth. The Noveletten, the scoring for which includes a tambourine and a triangle, are not often heard, which is a pity; they are harmonically and rhythmically adventurous and have a freshness which was applauded at the premiere. The LMP’s reading of the second and fourth movements highlighted those characteristics with stylish playing. Marsh’s piece provided a plaintive coda. Originally a choral setting, it was here played in an arrangement by Julian Azkoul. The somnolence of the sound led me across a field where it suddenly disappeared, as if passing through one of those time-warps beloved of science fiction films.

If Dvořák hadn’t written all those symphonies, concertos and Slavonic dances he would still command a place on the rostrum for the magical torrent of tunes that makes up his Serenade. It is one of those creations that must have been composed in the same way that classical sculptors worked their material, and its beguiling beauty is as captivating as its doubles in stone or marble. The difference, of course, is that the Serenade lives only in performance and the LMP were more than equal to that task of joyful animation. Their approach was grounded in faultless ensemble, with director Simon Blendis providing expert navigation. Tonally, it was well-judged with the balance across the 20 players skilfully avoiding any sense of thinness or dryness. A delightful rendition to cheer the heart and caress the soul.

Blendis stepped out from his role as navigator to take the solo in a ravishing depiction of The Lark Ascending. In Martin Gerigk’s arrangement, compensation for the loss of full orchestral colours came in the form of an uncanny realisation that the flight of the bird is as fascinating on a cloudy day as it is on one drenched in sunlight: we stand in wonder that there is such a thing in nature. Judging by the brilliance of this performance, Blendis is familiar with George Meredith’s cascade of images and distilled them into the poet’s silver chain of sound falling on shivering aspen leaves. The destination of the lark is always Heaven’s Gate; on this occasion it was in the company of the LMP whose well-rounded tones garlanded the composer’s gorgeous themes. All the players appeared to be in a state epitomising the poet’s sentiment of serenity in ravishment.