Philharmonic Magazine, Beijing, 2006

In the artistic imagery and the music world of fancy, as poignantly portrayed by Chen Yi-fei’s famous painting The Girl Flautist, woman and flute are irrevocably a reflection of romance and beauty. Yet women playing flute, sitting or standing, tend more commonly to display their mannerism, without achieving an exquisite musicality. While more and more girl students now choose to learn flute in conservatories, few manage to find their way into the professional world. Even fewer could find a seat in a philharmonic orchestra, and only the most exceptional could break the barrier of entry to a first-rate club. Among the solo flautists of the 20th Century, one could not count more than a dozen women. The most famous of those during the last 100 years are, of course, the late Elaine Shaffer and Susan Milan.

I have been specially fond of flutes ever since childhood. I can hardly imagine how, in my years as an emotional and sentimental youth, I could have survived the years of anxiety and boredom without flute music. I had a friend in the university who shared my passion for flute. We were poor students. He spent his last penny to buy recordings of a German flautist, Bettina Steinberg, who played “cross-over” music, while I chased after the French master Pierre Rampal. We had a small collection of seven or eight CDs, which was our treasure. From time to time, we would get together and stage a private concert of our recordings. Those were the happiest moments of those prosaic years.

I lost contact with my friend for a long time until we met again this year. He has retained his passion for flute. He asked me if I had gotten over my addiction. I contradicted him and told him that I am more deeply than ever fascinated by the sound of flute. I listened not only to Rampal; I also discovered Larrieu, Nicolet, Bennett, Galway, and Pahud. Yet, the more I listened to their recordings, the more I became disillusioned until, as I told my friend, I finally found someone—my idol of interweaving imagination and reality. She is the Queen of Flute in today’s world of music: Susan Milan.

I first came across her name when I purchased a Chandos record of Mozart’s Flute and Harp Concerto and Salieri’s Flute and Oboe Concerto. I was curious at the time about Salieri, but I was immediately enchanted by Milan’s magic flute. Her harmonious proportioning of passion and indifference reminds me of the graceful beauty of a young gentlewoman. That special combination of sensual charm and tender restraint of femininity is never to be found in the playing of male flautists. “This is ultimate,” I said to myself. “This is the perfection in the sound of a woman flautist. This is the music of the age of Mozart, the age of Mozart and Salieri.” Milan wrote the cadenza for both concertos, and all the skillful extravaganzas are hidden in the tasteful expressions of affection and happiness.

Immediately, I sought in the Chandos catalogue for Milan’s recording of Mozart’s flute concertos, and I found her CD, playing with the English Chamber Orchestra conducted by Raymond Leppard. Recognizing for the first time her standing in the profession, I checked Grove’s Dictionary and was greatly impressed by the glorious achievements of Susan Milan.

Milan was a prodigy when she was a student of John Francis at the Royal College of Music. She was not yet 20 when she was greeted by Queen Elizabeth at the Albert Hall. She received prestigious prizes from the Queen Mother and from the famous conductor Malcolm Sargent. Shortly after her year of graduate study under [Xxx] Gilbert, she was invited to become the Principal Flute of the Bournemouth Orchestra. Four years later, Milan made music history as the first woman principal musician of a major orchestra when she joined the Royal Philharmonic. She was active on the British stage as a soloist and chamber musician. Fans rushed to the performances of “the maiden beauty and her magic flute.” Conductors and orchestras sought her out. Milan mastered a varied repertoire of classic and modern concertos and chamber music. Milan premiered more than a dozen compositions dedicated to her by modern composers, including, among others, Assissi Sonatina by Anton Dorati. In addition, Milan wrote scale books for instruction and a handbook of program notes for the convenience of performers. In recognition of her achievements, she was elected President of the British Flute Society in 1990.

Milan started recording with British ASV Co. in 1979, and her second recording was brought out by the well-known Hyperion label. Later, she had a long-term contract with Chandos and produced more than a dozen recordings, covering a broad field and including, in addition to the previously mentioned concertos, three collections of French repertoire, romantic and modern music, and more. Of those, La Flûte Enchantée, accompanied by the London Sinfonietta conducted by Richard [Xxx], has an extraordinary enchantment and, in my view, reaches the absolute zenith of recorded flute music. Fascinating, too, is her most recent production of the flute music by Sir Eugene Goossens. Solo flute accompanied by a variety of other instruments beautifully expresses the pleasurable pastoral fragrance and the leisurely Edwardian poignancy.

The one recording that has greatly affected me is Milan’s rendition of Schubert’s Withered Flowers. One needs courage to listen to this performance. The changes in her breathing, the disturbances of her emotion, her tears of tragedy, and her narrative of a fairy tale all compel one to immerse in overpowering sadness. When one listens to her dark, deep murmuring tunes, he cannot help but fall into the saddest despair. Schubert was born a narrator of tragic stories. Why should he choose, among the many songs of The Beautiful Miller’s Daughter, this particular one to make a variation for flute? Susan Milan succeeds in penetrating to the very depths of this song in her pursuit of truth. Milan is not overly sentimental. There are no mannerisms. She is not agitated nor indulgent in exaggeration. The true royalty is revealed by the flautist with her noble bearing. When she plays the flute, she is not performing; she speaks for the composer. At the same time, she expresses her own idealism and her affection for her flute. I could understand her because of my lifelong feelings for flute music. Her love of flute is no different from mine. With my ability to discriminate, I can discern the difference between her sound and that of other famous flautists. Aside from the technical precision she shares with others, Milan alone is able to portray true emotion.

Milan has also recorded for Upbeat and Master Classics collections of French impressionists. These include Saint-Saëns’ Romance, Debussy’s [Xxx], Lili Boulanger’s Nocturne, Ibert’s Piece, and Dutilleux’s Sonatina, as well as works by Poulenc and Feld. The last was dedicated to Rampal but premiered by Milan. Milan’s renditions of French compositions are characterized by her color, warmth, and tenderness. Her expressions seem, at times, prosaic and open, and at other times mysterious and foggy. She modulates with lightness and ease: there is no hesitation or uncertainty. Her longtime friend, pianist Ian Brown, is an extraordinary accompanist who has worked with Szeryng, Rostropovich, Galway, and other famous musicians. He maintains a proper distance in his accompaniment, and the color and power of his piano harmonize perfectly with Milan’s flute sound. Their cooperation in French music is exceptionally fitting.

I believe in destiny. It has been a coincidence that my path should cross Susan Milan’s through my friend Kenneth Hsu. And it has been fate that he and she should find themselves.

I became acquainted with Mr. Hsu when we published his book Amadeus and Magdalena: Life and Music of Mozart’s Last Years. I knew that his wife was a musician. I thought that she might be a singer because he was so very familiar with Mozart’s operas. Not until he proposed a concert to commemorate the 215th anniversary of Mozart’s death was I told that his wife was the flautist Susan Milan. This is true. We shall be able to attend Hsu’s lecture on Mozart’s Love and Death on December 5, to be followed by a concert by Susan Milan. She and the Badke Quartet will perform Mozart flute quartets, his Dissonant Quartet, and Beethoven’s Serenade. After having heard so many of her recordings so many times over the years, I am looking forward to seeing her perform in person.