That Jean-Baptiste Forqueray is credited with making harpsichord transcriptions of his father Antoine’s five gamba suites seems remarkable considering how terribly the father treated the son, having him imprisoned on a trumped-up debauchery charge and successfully banished from their kingdom for a short period. Then again, it is possible that father Antoine’s gamba originals (or certain movements, at least) are Jean-Baptiste’s own handiwork, while the son’s harpsichordist wife may well have written the keyboard arrangements. In any event, the harpsichord versions take full advantage of the instrument’s two-manual layout and potential for contrapuntal agility and decorative panache, despite the music’s tendency to sit in the lower register.

The present pair of Forqueray cycles by Ketil Haugsand and Michael Borgstede will surely interest collectors familiar with previous editions from Christophe Rousset, Luc Beausejour and Jacques Ogg, as well as a splendid yet hard-to-locate version by Yannick Le Gaillard. Borgstede uses a double-manual French harpsichord modelled after Pascal Taskin (1723‑93). Its tuning is in accord with Rameau’s ‘Tempérament ordinaire’, which seems to befit the instrument’s full-bodied yet mellow resonance. By contrast, a leaner, more dulcet and transparent timbre characterises the double-manual late-Flemish instrument that Haugsand himself built in 1971.

In the main, Haugsand is a detail-oriented interpreter, who employs more detached articulation along with a wide variety of agogic rhythmic stresses and accents. Borgstede’s phrasing is more generalised and legato-based, and he takes more time to arpeggiate chords in slower movements. This accounts for Borgstede’s longer timings, apart from the fact that he takes every repeat, whereas Haugsand wisely avoids those that prolong certain movements beyond their natural momentum, such as the brilliant tour de force ‘Jupiter’ that concludes the Fifth Suite.

Other examples further illuminate interpretative differences. For instance, in the Fourth Suite’s ‘La Clément’ movement, Borgstede’s overlapping legato technique draws out the music’s lyricism and harmonic tension, in contrast to Haugsand’s more incisive and aggressive vantage point. In the sarabandes, Borgstede tends to project the principal melodies and accompanying flourishes at the same textural level, while Haugsand’s brisker tempi and quicker chordal arpeggiations allow the melodies to register more clearly. And as Haugsand lavishes purposeful embellishments on the Fifth Suite’s ‘Le Rameau’, Borgstede conveys a stronger, steadier pulse. The Third Suite’s elaborate concluding Chaconne comes vividly to life in Haugsand’s hands, where his use of agogics generates an infectious rhythmic snap that wouldn’t be out of place in Soler or Scarlatti. Here Borgstede’s fingerwork is more straightforward and virtuoso, although his tendency to ritard at the ends of sections grows increasingly predictable. However, there’s little to choose between both artists for their hypnotic delicacy in ‘La Regente’.

As one might gather by now, it isn’t easy to make a clear-cut choice between Borgstede and Haugsand. The former is less expensive but the latter boasts closer, more translucent sound. Futhermore, there’s Jacques Ogg’s superior virtuoso panache and characterful verve to consider, while I hope that Le Gaillard’s cultivated finesse will not linger in obscurity much longer. Still, both of these releases are viable options that will satisfy anyone seeking out harpsichord versions of the Forqueray suites.