Couperin's four Concerts royaux were published in 1722 when they were included in a supplement to his third anthology of harpsichord pieces. Though Couperin wrote them out on two staves, suitable for solo harpsichord, we know that he envisaged them as ensemble pieces for a mixed consort of instruments. And that was how they were performed at the Sunday concerts at Versailles organized by Mme de Maintenon for Louis XIV towards the end of his life. That concept is followed by the Smithsonian Chamber Players on their new disc containing all four of the Concerts as well as the three pieces for two harpsichords contained in the Ninth and Fifteenth Ordres. Excellent programming, in other words, and matched by comparably thoughtful playing. The ensemble includes violin, oboe, flute, bass viol, archlute and harpsichord. The melody 1D instruments hold the floor in turn rather than all together, of course, and it is here that I experienced one or two uncomfortable moments. Not because the playing is disappointing though Chiara Banchini's violin sounds less secure and less alluring in tone than is usual from her—but that I did not always feel the music was matched by the right instrument. Thus the expressive opening Prelude of the Premier Concert, allotted to the oboe, sounded a little stilted to my ears and, though it is, in fact, beautifully played by Stephen Hammer, I found myself longing for a violin.
The playing, as I say, is mainly excellent but there is perhaps a self-conscious element in the interpretations, a wish to refine and polish at the expense of motivation. The music is not allowed to sparkle as often as it might and I have the feeling that the players have worked so hard at the elusive idiom and precise ornamentation of the pieces that they have lost sight of the entertainment factor. There are sonorities to be savoured in ensemble playing of this calibre—the noble ''Sarabande-grave'' of the Troisieme Concert provides an instance of what I mean, but there are others, too—yet in the end I am left with an impression of excessive sobriety. Even the ''Muzette'' of the Troisieme Concert and the infectious ''Forlane'' of the Quatrieme, are low-key affairs. Ah well, perhaps I am too fun-loving for the waning years of absolutism but I am sure that there is much more to this delightful music than we are shown here.'