Edward Beckett is an Irishman but his musical education 
          took a French slant from a very early stage, beginning in Ireland itself 
          where he studied with the French flautist André Prieur (who was 
          the also the conductor, with the New Irish Chamber Orchestra, of James 
          Galway’s long deleted first recording of the Mozart Concertos). He then 
          enrolled at the Paris Conservatoire and, having graduated, spent a number 
          of years working with Jean-Pierre Rampal and Marcel Moyse. 
        
In his elegant, understated manner and in his control 
          of long sinuous lines, Beckett exhibits typically French virtues. He 
          may not have the outsize personality or the charisma of his countryman 
          Galway but perhaps he prefers, in any case, to put his flawless command 
          of his instrument at the service of his comprehensive musicianship and 
          of the composers themselves. All these performances seem to me to be 
          ideal. 
        
 
        
He gets an excellent recording, with a very natural 
          balance. The downside of a very natural balance is that there is no 
          attempt to bring the soloist forward on the sonic stage, so occasionally 
          (no more often than that) he almost disappears under the orchestra. 
          You may have your own views on this. My feeling is that, though it is 
          pretty much what we would hear at a concert, it may be necessary for 
          a recording to compensate just slightly for the fact that we can’t actually 
          see the player. On the other hand, it does allow us to hear the truth 
          of Andrew Brest’s observation in the notes that Godard’s Suite shows 
          "a great understanding of the flute with its light orchestral accompaniment", 
          for the solo instrument is well forward in this piece. 
        
 
        
I thought I had a fair knowledge of the flute repertoire 
          (as non-flautists go) but I must admit that there are some composers 
          here I had never heard of. Huë’s two pieces are attractive and 
          well-made without actually making me want to find out what else he had 
          written, but Pierre Villette’s "Complainte" did arouse my 
          curiosity. If you have any friends with particular leanings towards 
          British composers, you might try the opening of this on them as a guessing 
          game. With its gentle, folksy theme underpinned by bittersweet post-impressionist 
          harmonies the odds are they will suggest names like Ireland or Finzi. 
        
 
        
Beautiful as this is, the Saint-Saëns "Romance" 
          is better still, quite gorgeous, and had me reflecting that there are, 
          after all, reasons why we remember some composers more than others. 
          Except that the following "Odelette", a mellifluously fluent 
          but bland production of his later years, had me reflecting that there 
          are also good reasons why we certainly remember Saint-Saëns but 
          we don’t put him on a pedestal either. Give me Pierre Villette at his 
          best any day. 
        
 
        
Ravel restores our faith in the big names, but so does 
          Benjamin Godard in the smaller ones. After a brief opening movement 
          the following "Idylle" is exquisite, while the concluding 
          "Valse" gives the soloist plenty of fireworks without ever 
          descending into banality. 
        
 
        
You will have encountered Henri Büsser as an orchestrator 
          (of some Debussy piano pieces, for example) but here he is an orchestrator 
          of himself. This is the only piece on the disc to employ brass and percussion 
          on a large scale and, while I do not doubt Adrian Brett’s assertion 
          that it was originally written for flute and piano, I find it almost 
          impossible to believe that it was conceived without this range of colour 
          in mind. It is in fact the colours more than the themes of this effective 
          piece which remain in the mind. 
        
 
        
I am not sure that the Fauré "Fantaisie" 
          benefits particularly from an orchestral accompaniment, particularly 
          at the beginning where the accompaniment seems bare – the orchestrator 
          has put in all the notes, but on the piano some discreet pedalling can 
          fill these spare textures. But the performance is excellent – aspiring 
          flautists might note that the opening section shouldn’t be too slow 
          and romantic. 
        
 
        
Though Albert Périlhou was a friend of Fauré 
          his "Ballade" is the least French-sounding piece on the disc, 
          closer to Schumann in manner. It is expertly written. Widor, too, is 
          not as French-sounding a composer as many, but his pieces have much 
          charm, especially the "Romance". 
        
 
        
There’s a feel-good quality about this disc which should 
          commend it even to those who are not especially enamoured of the flute. 
          Indeed, if you look at the dates of the most of the composers (excepting 
          Godard but most signally including Büsser, with Widor, Huë 
          and Périlhou not far behind), you will notice that writing music 
          for the flute seems a fair guarantee of longevity. And don’t let the 
          booklet deceive you over Pierre Villette, whose dates it gives as 1926-1969. 
          In fact he died, as shown above, in 1998. 
          Christopher Howell