The title of this record, borrowed from Ravel's song cycle Sheherazade, seems at first to have been well chosen. ''With half-closed eyes they play their warbling solos, the hall dissolves into a shimmering sunlit glade... Of all musicians, flautists are most obviously the ones who know something we don't know'', wrote the late and much lamented Paul Jennings. And Susan Milan is a fine player who is well equipped to charm us, as indeed she does to some extent in such pieces as the Chaminade Concertino and Godard's Suite de trois morceaux, as well as the Ibert Concerto with its graceful Andante and tarantella-like finale. But in a programme called ''The Enchanted Flute'' there is a big disappointment in the very first work, a Concerto by Jolivet which starts with a remarkably unenchanting Andante cantabile and thereafter yields, at least to my ear, little more than a display of compositional facility. I feel, too, that it is not only in this work that some of the playing seems less than fully committed: the ''Idyll'' and ''Waltz'' in the Godard, for example, could have more tonal and rhythmic flexibility, the difficult orchestral opening to the Saint-Saens sounds tentative, and some quicker music seems hurried.
The Frank Martin Ballade is a thoughtfully serious piece and is convincingly done, but it is not one that I would call ''enchanting'' in the sense either of offering charm or creating a feeling of mystery and magic. The recording of all this music, made in a London church, is clear but close (one hears some breathing), and not very atmospheric. Still, it is good that some unfamiliar music for the flute has been added to the catalogue, and despite my reservations this CD is worth investigating.'