A gauge as to whether any recording of Bach’s Well-Tempered 
                  Clavier is likely to become a hit in these parts is if, 
                  once set in motion, I find myself unwilling to stop listening, 
                  or prepared to fast-forward in a search for individual numbers. 
                  This particular set has kept me up far later at night than I 
                  have planned on a number of occasions now, and while my place 
                  of work is possibly one of the few where a whispered ‘...Das 
                  Wohltemperirte...’ might see one get away with dark rings 
                  under the eyes of a morning, there are limits.
                   
                  I have to admit having been under the spell of this music played 
                  on piano for a while, but first really discovered it in the 
                  1970s with a recording to which I’m still very attached, that 
                  of Gustav Leonhardt, which I still have in the form of a chunky 
                  box of LPs with BASF on the label. The Deutsche Harmonia Mundi 
                  CD re-release of this seems to be well due for a budget edition. 
                  There are numerous other performers on harpsichord who I’ve 
                  found more or less attractive. Toon Koopman, whose musicianship 
                  I otherwise hold in very high regard, was an almost instant 
                  and surprising reject on Erato; Anthony Newman on 903 Records 
                  is good but a trifle imperious, and with a close recording which 
                  can prove fatiguing; Peter Watchorn on the Musica Omnia label 
                  is warmly expressive and arguably too far towards a romantic 
                  approach, but more importantly he seems reluctant to whip up 
                  excitement, taking too many tempi on the more stately side of 
                  interesting. A more realistic choice is Ottavio Dantone on the 
                  ARTS label, also giving the music plenty of time to breathe, 
                  but far more on top of the kind of musicality which makes the 
                  preludes expressive and inspiring, and the fugues vibrant and 
                  alive. Bob van Asperen is also very fine on the Virgin Classics 
                  label, with a nicely sonorous sound, a good sense of sustain, 
                  superb articulation and plenty of variety in terms of tempi.
                   
                  These are all essential qualities in a harpsichord recording 
                  of this huge masterpiece. You want a recording which captures 
                  the colour of the instrument without giving you proximity neuralgia, 
                  a nice acoustic to balance tone and clarity, and most importantly, 
                  you want an instrument which has a reasonably subtle attack 
                  to the notes, a good sustaining quality and a finely stacked 
                  set of sweetly ringing harmonics. The 1624 Ruckers instrument 
                  used in this fine Capriccio/SWR recording has all of these things 
                  as well as a notable pedigree which is outlined in the booklet. 
                  The restorer Christopher Clarke describes the tuning used for 
                  the recording as ‘circulating irregular’ temperament, ‘permitting 
                  every key but giving a specific colour to each.’ The evidence 
                  for this can be found in the pungent fragrance given to marvellously 
                  chromatic fugues like No. 12 in F minor from book 1. 
                  The recording has been made in a fairly intimate acoustic, but 
                  not so dry as to compromise expression. To my ears it sounds 
                  pretty much ideal. Recorded a year apart, there is a very slight 
                  change in quality between books 1 and 2, with the second volume 
                  sounding as if there is a mild mid-range shift of some kind 
                  and maybe a few millimetres extra distance between the instrument 
                  and microphones. This is by no means disturbing, though my instinct 
                  says that book 1 is preferable and the more natural sounding 
                  of the two sessions.
                   
                  As for the performance there are also barely any criticisms 
                  to be made. Christine Schornsheim has built a strong reputation 
                  on a variety of keyboards including fortepiano, founded in part 
                  on a training which has included master-classes from Gustav 
                  Leonhardt, and therefore in a line which is in sympathy with 
                  the kind of playing I already appreciate. She has a superb sense 
                  of proportion and rhythmic accuracy without turning herself 
                  into a metronome. There is always a certain amount of give and 
                  take in her little rubati which means that the pace 
                  of the music is not distorted, but that crucial points can be 
                  made and expressive moments are hit naturally and without strange 
                  mannerisms. Ornament is done as directed by Bach or as convention 
                  dictates, but is kept in reserve and used tastefully to enhance 
                  stylistic references or rhetorical features of the score. In 
                  her own text on Das Wohltemperirte Clavier, Christine 
                  Schornsheim writes about her personal associations with the 
                  healing qualities of the music, how its ‘energy brought me inner 
                  peace ... and helped my mind focus on the essentials.’ She has 
                  been playing these preludes and fugues for years as do most 
                  serious keyboard players. Stepping up several gears in order 
                  to realise this project she spent years exploring every dimension 
                  of the pieces. Performed on her favourite instrument, this has 
                  made one of her ‘biggest dreams come true’, and the sense of 
                  joy in achieving this pinnacle is communicated through just 
                  about every bar of these recordings.
                   
                  Technically, the performances are as good as faultless, though 
                  there is a split note early on, 0:47 seconds into the very first 
                  Fugue in C major. Spectacular runs are spectacular, 
                  chords which need spreading are spread, fugue voices are clear 
                  and consistent, changes in registration help keep up a variety 
                  of texture. For instance, the prelude No. 9 in E major 
                  in book one is given the light sparkle of an upper register, 
                  the following fugue has the added lower octave, which makes 
                  for a nice organic development. Schornsheim mirrors this in 
                  book 2 with the E major Prelude and Fugue No. 9, which 
                  is again very effective. I am glad to find each prelude and 
                  fugue given a separate track in this release, which always makes 
                  hunting around for specific pieces so much easier.
                   
                  Picking out highlights in such a superb set of performances 
                  is somewhat redundant. Each time you click onto a new track 
                  the response is ‘ooh, that’s good’, and the ear and mind take 
                  you in from there into world of delicious Bachness, or should 
                  that be Bachiosity, or Bachtastic Bachtabulousness ... Book 
                  2 of the two sets is the less frequently recorded of the two, 
                  and so it’s good to have such a strong pairing of both in one 
                  place. The rich resonance of the Ruckers instrument make the 
                  repeated notes which open the prelude No. 3 in C sharp major 
                  ripple elegantly; it’s a shame she doesn’t make the triplet 
                  long-short rhythm I feel is more correct for the main theme 
                  of the Prelude No. 5 in D major, but this is an exciting 
                  take on the piece and filled with irrepressible vitality. I 
                  love the damped strings of the Prelude No. 7 in flat major 
                  and the grandeur of the following fugue, and one of my favourites, 
                  the F major Prelude No. 11 unfurls splendidly: Bach’s 
                  ornately scaled-up frame for one of the briefest and most playful 
                  of the fugues. The Fugue in B flat minor does sound 
                  a little laboured; the slight delay to the placement of notes 
                  in the first half of the opening subject turning out to be a 
                  rod for the back of the entire piece, but such lapses are extremely 
                  rare.
                   
                  This is a nicely packaged set, with a foldout pack which uses 
                  one of the inner surfaces to give a close-up of the Ruckers 
                  harpsichord with its marvellous landscape on the inside of the 
                  lid. A wondrously fresh sounding and superbly performed recording 
                  of the Well-Tempered Clavier, this is very easy to recommend 
                  to those who favour harpsichord versions of the work, as well, 
                  I hope, as being a persuasive introduction to those more enamoured 
                  of the work recorded on piano.
                   
                  Dominy Clements