This disc brings together works for strings and piano 
          written between 1913 and 1978 by Germaine Tailleferre. What is remarkable 
          is the consonance and continuity of technique and expression between 
          the two extremes, which leads to the reflection that far from "not 
          developing" in the broadest most concentrated sense Tailleferre 
          grew to simplify her style but not to divert from its essential core. 
          Returning, for example, sixty years later to the Trio she had written 
          in 1917 she remains imaginatively the same composer when she added two 
          movements to it, movements both sympathetic to and enriching of the 
          originals. Write Tailleferre off at your peril. 
        
 
        
That Trio, composed between 1916 and 1917, opens in 
          the Gallic hot house with an Allegro animato of richness and 
          density. The subsequently composed Allegro vivace (from 1978) 
          is animated and stomping with a vein of wit and a slight antique air 
          in the aloofly Ravelian mode whilst the third movement Moderato 
          dates from 1917 and is brief and slight. The finale opens harmoniously 
          before gathering some momentum - a strong work from 1978. As a pendant 
          the original 1917 second movement is presented; fleeting like gauze, 
          flickering but securely anchored by the cello you will reach for the 
          usual suspects of influence but I found it a subtle movement well deserving 
          its disinterment. At 538 it would formally and structurally, I suppose, 
          be said to unbalance the Trio, which in this composite form lasts only 
          13 and a half minutes. Nevertheless a slice of the muslin Tailleferre. 
        
 
        
Her two violin sonatas have been recorded a number 
          of times before  Renata Eggebrecht and Gassenhuber most recently on 
          Troubadisc TRO-CD 0406, also fearless champions of Ethel Smyth, but 
          also by Ehrlich and Eckert on Cambria; the Second Sonata has also been 
          recorded by Arnold Steinhardt and by Roche and Fried on Vox. The First 
          Sonata of 1921 opens sunnily but a rather more pensive and inward second 
          subject steals in darkening the mood. The Sonata was written for and 
          dedicated to Jacques Thibaud and he premiered it with Cortot in June 
          1922. The work clearly also carries within it an autobiographical charge 
          because of the relationship between violinist  a suave womaniser  
          and composer. The rhythmically amusing piano writing of the second movement 
          scherzo runs beneath a lyrical violin line, some teasing little battles 
          between the two lending a flirtatious air to the movement whilst the 
          slow movement is dominated by the piano initially before the violin, 
          musing reflectedly at first begins a more passionate series of episodes. 
          In the finale there is more of a sense of consonance and solidarity 
          between violin and piano until the closing moments with a long held 
          note from the violin and the pianos strange unsettledness beneath until, 
          just in time, the violin perks up, the piano with it, for a little dance 
          tune to end the work. 
        
 
        
The Second Sonata was derived from the Violin Concerto 
          of 1936, which was premiered by Yvonne Astruc and Pierre Monteux. Milhaud 
          liked it and was a known admirer of the violinist who had also premiered 
          his own work. Tailleferre revised the Concerto for violin and piano 
          for performance in 1946 and it was subsequently performed by Jeanne 
          Gautier  the notes anglicise her name as Jane  and Tailleferre herself 
          in 1951. Delightfully full of fresh air and uncomplicated the first 
          movement is avuncular and openhearted and the finale charmingly motoric 
          with room for quick light trills from violinist Massimo Zigante. The 
          Sonatine equally has a joyful freshness tinged with moments of 
          reserve, a light breeze of a work. Elsewhere the early Berceuse 
          shows her indebtedness to Fauré; the Adagio is a transcription 
          of her Piano Concerto  an affectionately serious movement. The Pastorale 
          is a rocking, romantic work with an unexpectedly late Romantic profile. 
        
 
        
Idiomatic and understanding these performances do Tailleferre 
          proud. They catch something of her elfin pleasure and also a touching 
          reserve. Its not surely necessary now to liberate her from the constrictive 
          notoriety of membership of Les Six; on her own terms she was a lyricist 
          and romantic, inheritor of Faurés gift for melody but tinged 
          by her modernist inclinations, and here a composer of still treasurable 
          generosity. 
        
 
        
Jonathan Woolf