In her debut recording for harmonia mundi, Lucile Boulanger explores the facets of Antoine Forqueray’s career as a virtuoso instrumentalist: adept in a wide range of Italian repertoire and skilled at transcribing works originally intended for the violin, he could try it on for size, as it were, before settling on a different medium.

"No one has surpassed Marais: only one has equalled him, and that is the famous Forqueray": with these words,in 1752, a contemporary praised one of the last great virtuosos of the viola da gamba. Known for his formidably difficult and technical musical style, Forqueray's world is nonetheless immensely rich: through the works of thefather Antoine, his son Jean-Baptiste and his nephew Nicolas-Gilles, an august lineage emerges whose grace andgenius never ceased to inspire. At times proud, even bellicose, at other times deeply tender, the viol pieces by this Forqueray family plunge us into a flight of expressions of passions whose vivacity is equalled only by their intensity. Myriam Rignol, as a distant granddaughter, accompanied by her exquisite Timbres, delivers in this complete worka powerful homage to these 18th-century chamber music icons who, in their image, could never be anything otherthan virtuoso.

We are around the time of the Regency, at the political crossroads between Louis XIV and Louis XV. The viola da gamba was enjoying its last hours of glory in France, while the violin was beginning to take centre stage. The Golden Hour, which generally refers to the periods after sunrise and before sunset when the light changes, evokes here those years of convergence, even confrontation, between a viola da gamba in the twilight of its life and a violin at the dawn of its soloist destiny.

This is Lucile Boulanger’s first solo recital. The French gambist, universally praised for her natural and moving playing – BBC Music Magazine even described her as ‘the Jacqueline du Pré of the viola da gamba’ – juxtaposes Bach with Carl Friedrich Abel, a great master of the bass viol and a close friend of the Bach family. Although Johann Sebastian never wrote for solo viola da gamba, we know that he transcribed many of his works for other instruments. So Lucile Boulanger has chosen, for example, to transcribe three dances from the Sixth Suite, ‘because it sounds particularly good on the viol, being written for five-stringed cello (a step towards the six or seven strings of the viol?). It is in D, the viol key par excellence, and its style, already somewhat galant , is reminiscent of Abel… This album gives me the opportunity to showcase the viol as both a melodic instrument – with the grain of the bow, the fragility of tone – and a polyphonic one.’