Life and death. Mostly death.

That, in a superficial nutshell, is the theme of this weekend's Baltimore Symphony Orchestra all-Russian program, led with typical incisiveness by Yuri Temirkanov. It's not easy listening, but it makes for a very involving experience.

To begin, there's the deceptively tranquil Prelude to Mussorgsky's Khovantschina, a historically-based opera steeped in political assassination, persecution and mass suicide by fire. The same composer's Songs and Dances of Death follow, providing a chilling reminder of how the innocent, the frail, the vulnerable and the violent are stalked by mortality.

And then there's Shostakovich's Symphony No. 10, steeped in images of anxiety and brutality. It ends on an upbeat note, yet the effect is like a nervous laugh in the face of death. Confusing that finale with unbridled optimism is like confusing reality TV with reality.

Last night, the BSO got off to a rocky start in the Mussorgsky Prelude. The horns lost their footing; some unison passages in the strings were off-center. Still, the depiction of dawn over Moscow, and the sudden arrival of clouds midway through, came across under Temirkanov's unfussy guidance.

Technical matters quickly improved, enabling the ensemble to provide mostly disciplined and beautifully detailed support for baritone Dmitri Hvorostovsky's revelatory performance. In his Victorian-style coat and long silver hair, the singer could not help but suggest an undertaker of yore; with his lush tone and gripping delivery, he became every bit the menacing yet seductive specter conjured up in these chilling songs.

Hvorostovsky artfully caressed the recurring "Hush-a-bye, hush, hush" line in the first song, in which death lulls a sickly child into the hereafter; he achieved maximum tension and authority in the final cry of "You are mine" in "Serenade," as death crushes the breath out of a lovesick maiden. In "The Field Marshal," the baritone's singing had an eerily visceral impact.

Temirkanov was every bit the equal partner, ensuring that the finer points of the orchestration emerged tellingly.

That orchestration was by Shostakovich, which made for an extra link between the songs and his Tenth Symphony.

In this score, Shostakovich seems to have poured out all of the pent-up emotions of a Soviet artist who had a conscience and a free soul, a man well acquainted with fear and irony. It's easy to believe that Stalin's shadow lies across the pages, and that his ghost is nearly, but not quite, exorcised in the finale. (The dictator died a few months before the piece was written.)

Whatever extra-musical associations may be at work, the symphony represents Shostakovich at his most inspired. He creates a vast drama in the opening movement out of just a handful of ideas; produces a riot of energy and striking colors in the second; infuses the third and fourth with a defiant claim of ownership (a four-note theme that, in German musical notation, spells out his initials).

Temirkanov had the score unfolding in thoroughly cohesive, gripping fashion. The orchestra seemed quite energized; there was some sizzling music-making on that stage, section by section and individually (horn soloist David Bakkegard was but an example of the latter).

In the wake of this week's news from Africa, the composer's response to the death and horror of the Stalin years sounded somehow more urgent and profound than ever.

BSO

Where: Meyerhoff Hall, 1212 Cathedral St.

When: 8 tonight

Admission: $26 to $72

Call: 410-783-8000