There is scant evidence about the life of Jacques Morel. The most solid biographical fact we have is that he was a student of Marin Marais (1656–1728), the renowned composer and viol player, who would have been at the peak of his career when Morel was studying with him in the first decade of the eighteenth century. Marais's five volumes of solo music for the viol were published at intervals throughout his long employment at the court of Louis XIV. Appearing in 1709, between Marais's second (1701) and third (1711) books, is a publication by one of his students, Jacques Morel. Morel's Premier Livre is dedicated to Marais, and illustrates the many things Morel seems to have absorbed from his teacher: his hybrid style of lyrical and chordal playing, his use of virtuosic techniques such as written-out batterie and, most prominently, his elaborate system of symbols to indicate both common ornaments and viol-specific techniques.

The use of Marais's symbols may have been a matter of convenience, as these would have been familiar to the amateur viol players who were the likely consumers of Morel's publication. Indeed, in the Preface to his third book, Marais himself declares that he will explain only the new symbols, since those purchasing the third book will no doubt already have the first and the second in which the others are explained at length. Of particular interest to viol players will be the absence in Morel's volume of the ‘e’ symbol for enflé, which Marais might not yet have invented (he would introduce it in his third book, just two years after the publication of Morel's work). If he had, perhaps Morel did not see a use for it, much like the coulé, which is conspicuously absent from Morel's music, despite moments – particularly preceding a battement – where it might be employed very effectively. Morel also invents his own notational symbol, small noteheads that indicate optional chordal notes to be added in passages of written-out arpeggiation. Another important difference between Morel's work and that of his teacher is that Morel's Premier Livre is printed in score, just as publications for the viol by Jean-Baptiste Forqueray and Marais's son Roland Marais would be decades later. This is for the ease of the continuo player, Morel writes. Marin Marais's volumes were printed in separate partbooks, and in the case of the first book, the continuo partbook was published several years after the solo part.

This 2018 disc of Morel's complete Premier Livre, performed by Alejandro Marías and La Spagna, is the first complete recording and offers the listener an elegant tour of Morel's music. The Premier Livre consists of four suites for the bass viol and a chaconne for flute (or violin or treble viol), bass viol and continuo. The chaconne appears on numerous other discs, but only one of the suites had previously been recorded – on Philippe Pierlot's Defense de la Basse de Viole from 2010 (Ricercar RIC296). Recording previously unrecorded music is an attractive prospect, especially for musicians at the beginning of a career. Not only does it offer a performer the possibility of putting his or her own stamp on the only available version, but it also allows listeners to hear the playing without the preconceptions that come from familiarity with someone else's interpretation. Fortunately for emerging artists, early music's decades of rummaging around the archives have not depleted the supply of excellent music that deserves a turn in the recording studio. It is a surprise that Morel's music has until recently gone largely unrecorded, as it is hardly unknown. The music is good, much in the same vein as Marais's if not as consistently inspired, and a widely available facsimile edition was published in 1980 (Geneva: Minkoff; a scan of the original publication has also been available on IMSLP since 2016). In his liner notes, Alejandro Marías explains that the fact that Morel has not been recorded was an important consideration for him in choosing to make this album, writing (perhaps hyperbolically), ‘I feel very privileged to have been the first person to have recorded this music, free of any influence other than the experience each of us as performers brought to it’ (2).

In addition to the freedom Marías describes, recording something for the first time brings up complicated questions about how to introduce the music to listeners and fellow performers. Performing or recording a well-known piece of music often creates pressure to differentiate oneself from others, to make bigger decisions and stronger choices than ‘good taste’ alone might suggest. But in recording something for the first time, the opposite pressure can emerge, an impulse to perform the work ‘faithfully’ and without muddying the waters by ‘over-interpreting’. Because they act as references, first recordings can be powerful conveyors of norms. This is not a bad thing. Recordings of this kind have tremendous value, especially for fellow musicians, by allowing one to reach through the performance to ‘hear’ the notation. It is an impulse that Marías seems to feel despite his claims to an interpretative tabula rasa. In general, he is remarkably faithful to the written text – at times too much so. In one jarring moment, an ornament that is clearly called for – a trill on a cadential open fifth – is omitted because the symbol does not appear in the print. Other less obligatory opportunities for graces (including the neglected coulé) are likewise overlooked. This is regrettable, because the two instances on the disc where Marías does add an ornament (both perfectly idiomatic sweeps of slurred divisions) are thrilling and beautifully executed. As it happens, the first-and-only status of Marías's recording has been short-lived. Not long afterwards, Jay Bernfeld and Fuoco e Cenere released their own recording of Morel's Premier Livre (Pièces de viole, Paraty PTY 129264D, 2019), offering a dramatically different approach. With the addition of a theorbo to the continuo band, Bernfeld's recording feels more like chamber music than a solo viol with accompaniment. Readers hungry for a well-researched account of Morel's life and of the titles of the pieces in Morel's collection will find both in Joëlle Morton's excellent liner notes for the Bernfeld recording.

It is clear that Morel soaked up Marais's virtuosic technique on the viol. Marías too has more than enough technique to execute the difficult chords and passagework elegantly. His vigorous and fully saturated sound particularly suits such moments, for instance in the chords in the Boutade de Sainct Germain and in the intricate Fugue, in which the subject enters in both the highest and lowest registers of the instrument. The pieces themselves are all charming (a word I use without any pejorative connotation), and several are strikingly lovely. The G major suite, in particular, stands out for its contrasts of energy and beauty, and Marías and company seem to find it the most inspiring as well. It is here that the performers make their most interesting decisions, varying the instrumentation by omitting harpsichord and second viol upon occasion as well as employing the harpsichord's buff stop to great effect in the Sarabande. Marías also seems to play with the most freedom in this suite.

The sound of the disc itself is rich and complex. The engineer, Jesús Trujillo, is to be congratulated for striking an effective balance between lushness and detail. The close mic-ing of Marías's instrument creates both a directness and a vulnerability to the sound and lends crispness to his articulations and attacks. One hears the fingers of his left hand contacting and releasing the strings against the frets as well as an occasional trembling or skating of the bow. These noises do not detract from the performance, but give it an intimacy that is a welcome antidote to so many recordings of the viol that focus mainly on its capacity for resonance. The harpsichord too is well mic'd, balancing crunch and bloom and highlighting Jordan Fumadó's varied and inventive clouds of notes. However, Pablo Garrido's continuo viol is so low in the audio mix one can sometimes lose track of it. When Garrido does emerge out of the texture, his shaping of the bass line is sensitive, with a sonorous, rich tone. Garrido and Fumadó make an excellent continuo team, always in lockstep with Marías and delicately supporting him.

The album concludes with the Chaconne en trio, for which Marías's father, Alvaro Marías, joins the ensemble on traverso. The elder Marías plays with gorgeous tone and poise, though his careful handling of tempo sometimes strains against his son's tendency to push forward during his running divisions. By far Morel's best-known work, the Chaconne makes an appropriately ceremonial finish to a disc that is a welcome addition to the world of French viol music.