Back on stage for their second set, Chick Corea and Gary Burton conferred quietly from behind grand piano and vibraphone, two great contemporary jazz musicians at ease with their craft and each other. "We haven't rehearsed this for 15 years," shrugged Corea, launching into the lustrous Mirror Mirror.

This hardly mattered: since recording their landmark chamber jazz album, Crystal Silence, in 1972, the two multi-Grammy winners have maintained an occasional partnership buoyed by intuition, invention and magic. Whether paying homage to bebop legends (Thelonious Monk, Bud Powell), adapting a prelude by Scriabin or beating out an alegria dance rhythm on the sides of the Yamaha Grand, they reflected each other's ideas in an absorbing, sometimes quirky musical conversation.

Mutual respect meant room for individual expression. Corea's intense, sweeping playing combined classical flair with Latin spirit and a composer's singularity. Burton - wielding his usual four mallets - lent his vibes a colourful, note-bending brilliance with seemingly effortless grace.

Together, however, they created an exquisite hybrid that soothed, soared and reached its zenith in the title tune from their seminal recording. Good-humoured banter only added to the sense of occasion ("Take photos! Take calls! Audience rights!" quipped Corea). The spell stayed unbroken, the product of two uncluttered minds at work.