If you want to catch 20th-century Soviet composer Dmitri Shostakovich at his wittiest, warmest and most mischievous, his two piano concertos, from 1933 and 1957, are fine places to start. Unlike much of Shostakovich’s music of those periods, they seem to sidestep criticism of the Soviet regime while still containing much of the composer’s musical personality, from lush romanticism to unbridled high jinx. “The First Piano Concerto is full of joy, energy and has these wonderful trumpet solos,” says pianist Yuja Wang, who performs both works with the Boston Symphony Orchestra with high-octane energy and, especially in the second movement of No. 2, a touching depth of emotion. Piano Concerto No. 1, however, takes time to find its playfulness, its brooding opening bars soon giving way to circus-like frolics. “Shostakovich is a bit like Mahler,” Wang tells Apple Music Classical; “sometimes he feels the need to balance sentiment and beauty with sarcasm—dark humour if you will.” Conductor Andris Nelsons ensures that the interplay between piano, orchestra and trumpet is on an equal plane in that earlier work, sending minute details to the fore, such as the opening movement’s growling double bass, fizzing string pizzicato and the filigree piano figurations that fly and flutter underneath and between the trumpet’s brazen utterances. And the rivalry between trumpet and piano is a joy to hear. “The trumpet solos in the First Concerto are some of the most eloquent and musical ever written,” says Wang. “But by the last movement the piano has really had enough of its showing-off and gives it a big middle finger in a form of chord cluster. You can play that chord with any body part you like to achieve that mockery. There’s a tinge of circus to it.” The scampering woodwind that opens Piano Concerto No. 2 reveals it to be an equally playful work, if, on the whole, a little less manic. But there’s the same rhythmic tautness throughout, and Wang brings dramatic dynamic extremes to the solo piano part, composed by Shostakovich for his young son Maxim to perform. The second movement harks back to 19th-century Russian Romanticism. “The string writing is perhaps the most sheerly beautiful music Shostakovich ever wrote,” says Wang. “The human side of this music is from such a deep place that its uplifting, healing power really resonates profoundly in a primal way with our psyche.” The final movement whips along, unstoppable to the final chord, complete with its parody of piano exercises. Each note is sharply defined, yet dispatched with incredible energy—and the fun is palpable. Wang concludes the programme with a selection from Shostakovich’s 24 Preludes, Op. 34 and the 24 Preludes and Fugues, Op. 87. Her performances are mesmerising, from the helter-skelter Prelude, Op. 34 No. 5 to the brief, skittish D-flat Major fugue that brings this album to a demonic yet triumphant close.