It would be all too easy, from a cursory glance at the bolded title alone, to assume that Emmanuel Pahud’s ‘Mozart & Flute in Paris’ is a programme of flute works composed in Paris by Mozart. But non. Au contraire, this is a double-disc, multi-composer tribute to the notion of Paris as ‘flute capital of the world’ from the 18th century to the present day – as exemplified by the levels of distinction heard from its flautists across the centuries and the way in which the flute embodies the spirit of French art like no other instrument. And if that latter point rouses your inner cynic, perhaps try some comparative listening with Hilary Hahn’s ‘Paris’ (DG, 3/21) or Diana Tishchenko’s ‘Strangers in Paradise’ (Warner, 12/19), because great as those two recent violin homages to the French capital are, when it comes to sounding immediately, inescapably French, these flute works have the edge right from the programme’s opening seconds; and the further gold stamp is the presence of François Leleux at the helm of the Orchestre de Chambre de Paris, with everything his oboist’s perspective can bring.

Those aforementioned first few seconds, courtesy of Philippe Hersant’s Dreamtime for solo flute and orchestra, are in fact also some of the most instantly beguiling and exciting bars of music I’ve heard open a disc in some time. A commission by the orchestra, dedicated to and premiered by Pahud in 2014 under the baton of Thomas Zehetmair, this single-movement concerto draws its inspiration from Australian Aboriginal cosmology myths describing the creation of the world, and you will now have to forgive me while I gush. To open, a shimmering orchestral woodwind cloud of pentatonic harmony, on to which Pahud’s clean, direct, supple flute sings a swift, birdsong-like melody that, thanks to its sheer elegance, still sounds quintessentially French despite the subject matter. Equally Gallic-sounding is the ensuing succession of shifting orchestral landscapes; in fact these out-Dutilleux Dutilleux in their kaleidoscopic range of colours and timbres, over which Pahud is put through his technical paces via contemporary tricks such as bisbigliandi (rapid oscillations of timbres and colours achieved through special fingerings) and multiphonics, as orchestral sections rise up to engage him in conversation and comment, some of which you could anticipate (eg woodwind calls), but also containing some beautiful surprises such as a legato countermelody from upper-register cellos. All of this is fabulously, fluidly handled by Leleux.

Cécile Chaminade’s Concertino, written in 1902 for the Paris Conservatoire’s Concours des Prix, is another standout on disc 1 for its combination of perfumed purity, delicacy and noblesse. Then disc 2 is entirely devoted to Mozart’s 1778 Paris visit, and shines with yet more elegant and lucid orchestral playing, plus now some delectable solo work: first, the dream team joining Pahud for the Symphonie concertante – Leleux himself on oboe, horn player Radovan Vlatković and bassoonist Gilbert Audin – whose respective tones and joyously superglued dialogues constantly tickle and stroke the ear afresh; then Anneleen Lenaerts’s poetic playing in the Concerto for flute and harp, K299, her harp ravishing in the gentle warmth of the Philharmonie de Paris. Not to be missed.