Linking Italian Baroque and Soviet Modernism via the fire bombing of Dresden might sound like grasping at musical straws. But given the rather odd aural juxtaposition of Albinoni (whose well-known Adagio was recreated from six bars found in the ruins of the city library) and Shostakovich (who wrote his dark String Quartet No 8 in the aftermath) in this Scottish Ensemble season-opener, one can't blame the director Jonathan Morton for trying.

The real answer to this crashing contrast of styles lies, one suspects, in the choice of soloist. Alison Balsom is currently on a career updraft that most trumpeters only dream of, but any suggestions of overzealous PR are swept aside by her delicate, expressive playing intimately linking breath, sound and emotion. It makes her a revelation in Baroque and a no-brainer for powerful Shostakovich.

And when it comes to repertoire, Balsom's judgment is spot-on, here airing her new transcription for trumpet of Albinoni's 1714 Sonata for Violin in D minor. Proud, elegiac almost, Balsom plays with flashes of breath-sapping coloratura brilliance, somewhat more life-threatening on the trumpet than the violin.

Then it's a musical chasm-leap to an old Scottish Ensemble favourite - the Rudolph Barshai Chamber Symphony transcription of that Shostakovich String Quartet, the semi-autobiographical elegy of the mature, state-repressed composer. Morton's lovely solo violin haunts, although one intermittently senses the raw power lost by the transcription to multipart playing.

Less impressive is the lighter second half's Corelli Concerto Grosso. If Balsom made a more expressive case for the Albinoni in the context of Shostakovich, the ensemble couldn't effect the same miracle with this ill-placed Corelli, even with Baroque bows - some messy edges and muted dynamism didn't help.

Blasting all before it like a musical lime pickle came the compelling, concluding Shostakovich, whose brash, brilliant 1933 Concerto No 1 in C for piano, trumpet and strings often comes off like a joke at someone else's expense - one has a sneaking feeling it's the audience's.

The young Perth pianist Alasdair Beatson, bullet-fingered in the jazzy, dysfunctional allegro, had a tendency to syrupy rubato but was ably led astray by Balsom's petulant, irrepressible trumpet. Corralling the soloists in their trademark standing semi-circle - looking not a little like a child's game - the Scottish Ensemble clearly enjoyed tapping the schizophrenic emotions of this wild, humorous piece.

Next date: Wigmore Hall, London W1, Thurs

Editor's choice

• Guns N’Roses: Chinese Democracy
• The 50 Biggest Movies of 2009
• Quantum of Solace