The haunting cover image of a gypsy child peering from the back of a rickety horse-drawn cart is significant. The stated theme, ‘in the shade of the forests’, doesn’t only symbolise nature, gypsies and various ethnic strains of folk music but the notion of ferrying those influences from one land to another. Ravel and Debussy, for example, were swept off their feet by hearing Hungarian fiddle music.

In the case of George Enescu, the inborn folk seed sprouted virtually from day one: his Impressions d’enfance, written on the eve of the Second World War, explore the twin themes of nature and gypsy music as recalled from early childhood. I loved this recording by Philippe Graffin and Claire Désert, less because of any well meant attempt to approximate a ‘gypsy’ style than the intimacy of the playing. Take the garden stream in the third movement or the caged bird in the fourth, so subtly evoked, like a distant memory shared.

The combination of Graffin’s confidential tone and Désert’s attentive ear makes for what is surely the benchmark recording of Ravel’s early ‘posthumous’ Sonata, music discovered only 30 or so years ago and probably written during the composer’s student years. Although composed before the turn of the last century, unmistakable harmonic hints at Gershwin’s style crop up here and there – paradoxical given Ravel’s later admiration for the king of Tin Pan Alley.

This recording of Ravel’s Tzigane is interesting on two counts: first, Graffin’s unhurried approach ensures that every note is audible; and second, Désert plays the same exotic instrument that was used for the premiere of the version with ‘luthéal’ back in 1924. Here we’re talking a half-size Pleyel as opposed to a full-size grand, the approximate effect a cross between a cimbalom and a fortepiano, with numerous gradations of tone-colouring between. As to Debussy, Graffin and Désert make gentle play with the late Violin Sonata and lavish affection on the transcriptions. The most interesting is Graffin’s re-adaptation of an early, impish Nocturne and Scherzo originally intended for the violin but which hasn’t survived in that form. ‘Minstrels’ is presented in Debussy’s own cheeky arrangement, ‘Il pleure dans mon coeur’, ‘La fille aux cheveux de lin’ and Beau soir in wonderfully supple transcriptions by Debussy’s violinist friend Arthur Hartmann.

A beautiful disc, this, its message one of gentle longing and nostalgia, though the playing is anything but sentimental. Graffin’s annotations are a mine of valuable information, though you’ll need a magnifying glass to read them.