As I’m practicing this piece, here’s a bit more about it:
“In my concertos I have allotted the instruments the types of themes which correspond to their particular tone qualities and respect their expressive possibilities.” This statement of Jacques Ibert’s certainly applies to his Flute Concerto, written over the years 1932-1933. The work was dedicated to Marcel Moyse (who’s quite the central spotlight of Paris-school flute, read more about him here), who was the featured soloist in its premiere performance, under Philippe Gaubert’s direction, in Paris on February 25, 1934. Both Moyse and Gaubert, incidentally, were students of the great French flutist and teacher Paul Taffanel, for whom many of the greatest French flute works were written.
Ibert’s Concerto was dedicated to Moyse, who didn’t play it often. In fact, the work lay neglected for many years due to its perceived difficulty. The opening Allegro is based on a perky first theme with a neoclassical shape, and a slower, more languorous second theme. Throughout, the flute is kept constantly busy. A sweet, lyrical Andante follows, the flute’s long-breathed song accompanied by gentle strings. The longest of the work’s three movements is the last, a jazzy Allegro scherzando with a virtuoso solo cadenza; this Finale is such a challenge for flutists that it became a test piece at the Paris Conservatoire.
Source: Talk Classical
Now, about my own thoughts while practicing it:
The first movement still feels odd to me — quirky, squeaky in places, and often wandering through scales and arpeggios that sound more technical than melodic.
The second movement is a soft impressionistic dreamy colorful Andante — lyrical flute passages floating over strings and harp — and this, at least, is always beautiful…
The third movement (Allegro Vivace) is the star here. It’s flashy, fast, and technically dazzling, with an exhausting cadenza right before the finish. It’s also the most fun to play — catchy, almost playful in character — but even here, I sometimes feel it lacks emotional depth. It impresses more than it moves me, like a brilliant acrobatic show that leaves you clapping but not exactly touched.
It isn’t unpleasant, but I can’t say it’s something I’d listen to for enjoyment alone. The piece feels more like a clever exercise in flute gymnastics than something deeply expressive. Maybe, just maybe, this is Ibert’s style, as the concerto feels like a celebration of the flute’s agility and brilliance rather than a search for something profound. Well sometimes, the sheer joy of motion is enough, especially for an audition.