An exploratory trumpet peeps over a wall. A bassoon hesitantly waddles into view. A cheeky clarinet offers a leering response. Within just a few bars at the start of Dmitri Shostakovich’s First Symphony, an impish character emerges – part Petrushka, part Till Eulenspiegel; a clown, a prankster. Written as a graduation exercise in Maximilian Steinberg's composition class at the Petrograd Conservatory, it didn’t quite set the blueprint for Shostakovich’s later works, although humour – twisted into something more bitter – would become a recurrent thread in his compositional career.
Gianandrea Noseda is midway through a cycle of Shostakovich’s symphonies with the London Symphony Orchestra (destined for LSO Live release) and this latest instalment featured the puckish First. Noseda’s many years as principal guest conductor at the Mariinsky have given him something of an insider guide to this repertoire, taut, hard-driven interpretations, often more brutal than those of his St Petersburg mentor, Valery Gergiev.
Noseda’s knees must take a fair pounding on the podium. Often bouncing on the balls of his feet, he is constantly on the move, sometimes airborne. He drew out the frenetic, sardonic nature of much of Shostakovich’s music, the first movement’s mock waltz and the comic capers of the Allegro, with its Keystone Cops piano interjections a reminder of the composer’s time accompanying silent films in cinemas. The LSO was on pungent form, tucking into Shostakovich’s youthful score with relish. Timothy Rundle’s oboe solo opening the slow movement was spacious, met by Rebecca Gilliver’s glowing cello response which recalls the sighing opening phrase of Tristan und Isolde (Shostakovich would quote Wagner again in his final symphony, the 15th). The finale, where the composer shows his inexperience by throwing in too many ideas for the argument to remain coherent, blustered in its coda, a hint of militaristic effects to come in his later symphonies.
Noseda has long been an advocate of Alfredo Casella’s music – especially his Mahlerian Second Symphony – which perhaps explains why he prefers his 1907 orchestration of Balakirev’s Islamey to the one made five years later by Sergei Lyapunov. Casella’s is completely unidiomatic – more glossy and Italianate than Lyapunov's, which echoes Balakirev's own compositional palette – although it garnered the composer's approval. The LSO percussion sprinkled the glitter liberally in a lively account to open the second half of the concert, although textures were often muddied.