Rouvali’s Shostakovich symphonies with the Philharmonia continue with an account of the Tenth that is effectively paced (for the most part), beautifully balanced, played and recorded, and not without some loving yet unobtrusive attention to detail. As such, it joins the host of distinguished but not revelatory versions in the catalogue (for the latter, see the earlier Mravinsky or Karajan).

The first movement is both atmospheric and flowing, sensitively delineating each stage in the unfolding psychological drama: through mystery, apprehension and defiance to numbed lament. Whether instinctively, or thanks to awareness of the duet version as recorded by the composer and Weinberg, Rouvali subtly achieves large-scale momentum. That entails, for one thing, reading the metronome marks as ‘by this stage you should have reached approximately such-and-such’, rather than, as more literally minded conductors take them, ‘at this point make a sudden gear-change’. One or two nuances suggest to me that Rouvali is a little too much the master of events. There’s a tension in this magnificent movement between control and forces beyond that control, and while there’s certainly room for variance, Rouvali holds the reins a little too tightly in places, especially approaching the crisis point in the development section. Still, the coda is masterfully and movingly done.

The Scherzo is properly tight and vehement: not quite stop-whatever-you’re-doing-and-listen-to-this wonderful, but certainly high-class. After this, the substitute slow movement – fashioned by Shostakovich so as not to over-burden the symphony with slow tempos – could be more searching. Nor does the finale quite hit the sweet spot where exhilaration and panic should be vying for the upper hand. A few pages of the reprise are a notch under tempo, unconvincingly, almost as if from a different take. Such moments detract from the sense of inevitability that distinguishes great Shostakovich performances from fine ones such as this.