ANDRE PREVIN BROUGHT SMILES to the crowd at Symphony Hall last Saturday, guest-conducting an all-American program of Gould, Copland, Schuman and Gershwin. He composes as well, and at the concert it showed: he shaped the music as if it were his own.

"Fall River Legend," the opening piece, is an adaptation of Morton Gould's full score for the Agnes DeMille ballet about Lizzie Borden, the same one who "took an ax" and "gave her parents forty whacks." Thought it calls for fewer than 20 performers, it requires them to sound like many more. This illusion succeeded best in the fanciful second movement, "Waltzes" and the "Elegy" that follows, a piece that itself could secure for its creator a reputation as one of America's greatest tonal composers. Previn and his temporarily reduced company made it not only a focused meditation on Lizzie's troubled character, but a monument to Gould himself, who died just last year.

"Cotillion" evoked, somewhat to its own disadvantage, a scene from another DeMille ballet: "Hoedown" from Rodeo. The percussion produced by the orchestra seemed too heavy here, but was just right for the burlesque "Epilogue," an exciting Howard Hanson-meets-Bernard Herrman affair.

The Copland Clarinet Concerto turned out to be a vehicle for the virtuosity of BSO principal William Hudgins, who danced with ease through the highly syncopated score that gave even Benny Goodman a hard time at its premiere. The first movement of this piece contained the night's best music-making, with Hudgins bringing out broad lines of melody with suavity. At its best, it sounded like an American gymnopedie.

Next came a sharp and jumpy cadenza in which the high notes were never less than pure. Previn had decided to make the last section sound like an alla breve version of the first, made jazzier by the inclusion of a piano part. By the time Hudgins finished negotiating all the difficult figures, he had earned himself three curtain calls.

William Schuman's Third Symphony occupied most of the second half of the program. This formally rigid piece demands a balance between strings and brass that was not always present in this performance. In the opening "Passacaglia and Fugue," to use the talk of the trade, the trumpets could have been shooting ducks out of the balcony. But this is only a quibble when one considers how carefully Previn articulated both crucial ingredients, the ground of the passacaglia and the subject of the fugue.

The brass was exquisite in the "Chorale and Toccata," where oboe and clarinet solos were also solid. The climax of the "Toccata" is a wonderfully weird, blocky theme for the cellos alone, which came off perfectly. The whole performance made one of America's greatest symphonies accessible and enjoyable.

The best seat in the house for Gershwin's "Rhapsody In Blue" wasn't for sale: it would have to have been suspended directly above the piano. Since Previn was conducting and playing, he found it necessary to remove the lid of his $100,000 Bosendorfer Imperial, yet by removing it he ensured that all his glorious sound would travel straight up, not out into the audience.

Seats in the front rows of the orchestra were adequate for hearing what was going on, but balcony seats probably were not. This was a shame, because Previn played with exceeding cleverness and charm. In general, all the familiar themes were satisfying, and concertmaster Malcolm Lowe played a gorgeous solo in the lyrical section, but the great ascending chordfest near the end should have been much louder and less reserved.

This piece bears the influence of both Tchaikovsky and Liszt, and should accordingly be both effusive and dazzling. Under Previn, it was both, and he managed to keep it crisp all throughout. This control should make for a wonderful Shostakovitch's Eighth next week.