This live recording is dutiful rather than revelatory, risking few individualistic inflexions in its pursuit of enduring musical values. Despite his early Soviet successes, Maxim Shostakovich’s Western readings have been closer to Haitink’s than Kondrashin’s in overall conception, although his soloist here is a flexible, light-voiced bass very different from Marius Rintzler (for Haitink). Confusingly, the Supraphon booklet prints the officially sanitized, less Judaeo-centric Babiy Yar text forced on Kondrashin in his studio recording (Melodiya). The original, with its more poetic language, is what is actually sung (and sung most expressively) by Peter Mikulas; this is already his second performance on disc (he sings on the Naxos version, 11/93). The opening measures, smoothly articulated but not exactly ominous, set the tone of the orchestral contribution. The ferocious humour of the second movement is a little understated, while the third is the least successful of the five, the soloist too swooningly expressive for accurate pitching. This is one of the least contrived performances of the last decade – the Czech woodwinds bring a piquant quality to the finale and the recording is spacious – but, should you be investing in a concert relay, Kondrashin’s 1962 Russian Disc version remains the one to have, faster in every movement, unforgettably intense, and – inevitably – crudely recorded.'