Why the harpsichord works of Pancrace Royer are not performed more often is a mystery. His one book of Pièces de clavecin, published in 1746, is full of spark and variety, ranging from the dulcet “La Zaïde” to the robust jollity of “Les matelots”, and from the eloquence of “La Sensible” to the dizzyingly quirky virtuosity of “Le vertigo”. And while it is Rameau who rightly dominates our knowledge of the musical times in which Royer lived as harpsichord teacher to Louis XV’s daughters, composer of operas and director of Paris’s prestigious Concert Spirituel, as a keyboard composer in the imaginative, full-bodied mould of someone like Forqueray, Royer need not be considered as totally blotted out by the more famous composer’s shadow.

Yet this disc is one of only a handful devoted to Royer’s harpsichord music. Remarkably, it is also the second by Christophe Rousset, his first having been 15 years ago for L’Oiseau-Lyre (9/93 – nla). The first noticeable difference is in the harpsichords themselves; first time around Rousset had an easy-toned 1751 Hemsch, but this time he uses a composite 18th-century instrument, more aggressive in sound, more “zingy” at the top end and with less of the Hemsch’s mellow resonance. This is not, I feel, without knock-on effect; whereas before there was a stylish elegance and easy grace of line in the way Rousset dispatched these demanding pieces, now there is a sense that, while his technique remains as enviable as ever, he has to work harder at the music, draw things out more, become more mannered. Those possessing either the older recording or William Christie’s more rhetorically minded 1979 account for Harmonia Mundi can rest easy (though they might well be interested to hear Rousset stepping outside the comfort zone); harpsichord enthusiasts unfamiliar with Royer’s generous musical personality should take this opportunity to make his acquaintance now.