The Chicago Symphony Orchestra is concluding its current season with a festival devoted to the works of Dmitri Shostakovich, with Msistislav Rostropovich presiding at the cello and on the podium. There is an air of historic event about the festival, given Maestro Rostropovich's close personal connections with the composer, and the fact that the concert programming was actually designed by the composer himself, as preserved in a private note to Rostropovich. Last night, by joining the "Rush Club," I was able to join an officially sold-out crowd at Symphony Center to hear Mr. Rostropovich play the First Cello Concerto, with CSO associate conductor William Eddins on the podium, followed by a performance of the Thirteenth Symphony, "Babi Yar," led by Rostropovich, with Sergej Aleksashkin as the bass soloist. Although I have heard him conduct on two previous occasions, and once almost accidentally hit him in the face while opening the door of the Juilliard library, this was my first live encounter with Rostropovich the cellist. I come away from the experience with one word -- line. There is an intensity and depth about his approach to music through his instrument which is striking and absolutely absorbing to hear and watch. In particular, the second movement was an object lesson in the art of bel canto. (The duet between the cello and celesta was particularly haunting.) He doesn't fuss with the score, trying to do something "new," or "expressive;" instead, he plays from the heart with great simplicity. One senses a total connection between his heart, ears, and technical apparatus. This was not frivolous Shostakovich; the performance had an edginess about it, coupled with a keen appreciation for the work's ironic, even bitter qualities. The soloist's complete command of the score allowed him to keep the ensemble tighter than it might have been otherwise, and the orchestra provided solid support, with absolutely magnificent horn solos from Dale Clevenger. Having heard it once in concert, I wish I could immediately go back and hear "Babi Yar" again. The B-flat major tune which closes the symphony continues to wend its way through my consciousness as I write this monring. The whole struck me as a wonderfully constructed and coherent work, which in its five movements never once had me at less than full attention. The Yevtushenko texts, chosen by the compsoer, struck me as a moving humanist and deeply Russian credo, which gave me as much insight into Shostakovich as anything I've read. (Incidentally, the program notes for the festival have an anti-Volkov bias to them, featuring an essay by Laurel Fay and an interview with Rostropovich in which he criticizes "Testimony," based in part on what he sees as erroneous statements in the book about the relationship between Shostakovich and Prokofiev.) Rostropovich the conductor can be tremendously effective in this kind of music, as I recall from hearing him conduct the Shostakovich Eighth Symphony two seasons or so back. On this occasion, his sense of pacing, climax, and color seemed absolutely right, even though there were a few moments of less than stellar ensemble, particularly in the duet for solo violin and viola at the very end of the score. The chilling, ominous atmosphere at the beginning of the fourth section of the score, "Fears," was truly special. Mr. Aleksashkin was clearly suffering, either from a cold, or from the notorious effects of northern Illinois's allergenic environment, to which I can personally attest. He tended to go off his voice in the music's softest and lowest registers, but still conveyed the full range of the text with authority, backed up by the solid contribution of the Chicago Symphony Chorus men. Both works were greeted with vociferous standing ovations, and on receiving both, Rostropovich responded by diving into the orchestra to acknowledge, bear-hug, and kiss most of the principal musicians on both cheeks. (Watching him in action gave me the brilliant idea that there is a PBS special which is just waiting to be made, with "Peter and the Wolf" conducted by Rostropovich and narrated by Roberto Begnigni. Anyone with influence out there who might be willing to get it to happen?) Rostropovich's last stage acknowledgement was perhaps the most touching -- he walked to the podium and lifted the score of the Thirteenth for the audience to see, and then stepped back and applauded it, along with his departed teacher and friend. The festival, which began with the First Symphony and excerpts from "Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk," continues through June 12 with the First Violin Concerto (with Vengerov), the First Piano Concerto (with Constantin Lifschitz and Adolf Herseth), the Tenth, Ninth, Fifth, and Eleventh Symphonies, plus other orchestral and chamber works. DPHorn, glad to have been there.