A marvellous discovery! And from internal evidence - those descending chromatics for one thing, and the incomparable contrapuntalism for another - it is obviously authentic. We think the composer's son, the so-called "English Bach," must have dug it out in 1764 when the boy Mozart visited England and left it behind after their concert tour up north.

Not a few Members have found it we expect difficult to dislodge from their minds the image of young Cowitch and his boots, and it is for them in particular that we to-day present as interlude this example - rapid-share / send-space - of flashing eighteenth-century footwork.

The little ensemble consists of oboe, pluckable saxophone, trumpet, and two feet on the organ

For those who do not know: while his fingers are hugely busy elsewhere, that striking bass line, with its strange striving ladder of ascending quavers at once and exultantly succeeded by a rapider semi-quaver descent, is controlled entirely by the feet of the executant!

That would be most interesting; but it could not possibly be a "requirement" - especially since we entirely believe the Member already, and he is right about Novello. Yet it is always fascinating to see Bach's manuscripts, and we speak of course not only for ourself but also on behalf of the throng of Members who we know "lurk" in this thread and are a little timid when it comes to contributing a message or a crackpot performance. When the C# is a quaver it does go better with the G# quaver in the bar before. . . .

We are most grateful to the Member for the view of those absorbing pages. What a long ledger-line it is which links bars ninety-seven ninety-eight and ninety-nine! We cannot we fear any longer trust either Sir John Frederick Bridge (1844-1924) British composer and organist of Westminster Abbey for over forty years or Mr. James Higgs (1829-1902) London organist and author of books on Fugue and modulation, between them responsible for the editing of the Novello edition.

We have long wondered in respect to the passage in the bass beginning at bar seventy-seven whether it too was intended to be played "on the pedals" but in the Member's images we see A) that Bach has not marked it Ped as he has other similar lines, and has in fact taken care to insert rests in the bass, and B) there is no point of clear abscission but on the contrary it turns into semi-quavers and soars away into upper regions. Do any organists nevertheless does any one know play at least the beginning of this line "on the pedals"? Could Bach have trickily intended it as a kind of test for supremely skilled pedallers willing to pedal upwards and onwards? And is it possible to throw some switches or pull some knobs so that when played on a manual it sounds the same anyway, even?

Finally is that not another error by Bach himself in bar four in that the second and third notes in the treble should be semi-quavers?

Having thus far heard Bach in C, Bach in F, Bach in B flat, Bach in D sharp-cum-E flat, Bach in G sharp-cum-A flat, Bach in C sharp, Bach in F sharp, Bach in B, Bach in E, Bach in A, and Bach in D, we are now poised to modulate onwards to Bach in G. The G major Prelude from Bach's first Book - here (rapid-share / send-space) given in a truly loopy interpretation - bears another unusual time signature itself verging upon the crackpot: 24/16 on the treble staff and C on the bass. Tovey calls it "whimsical" but no, Bach's firm intention lies behind it. Tovey goes on despite this to suggest as tempo "a very lively eight in a bar rather than a mere [sic] four."

As comparison we present two new comers to this thread. The first is a clavichordist, Jaroslav by name. Thus far the only clavichordist we have had was Mr. Patio's "dear old Ralph." The clavichord is capable Vit tells us of conjuring up a vast wealth of shades of expression; indeed no other keyboard instrument responds in a similar way to the touch of the player's fingers. The clavichordist is able to determine through the action of his fingers not only the dynamics of the individual tones, but also their colour, sonority, and even their pitch. Hence the possibility of playing correctly in all keys, even given less than equal temperament, as is here exemplified. Jaroslav plays a modern instrument put together in 1999 by Martin Kather, who uses his own system of tempering, consisting of the tuning of eight close fifths, one wider one (A flat - E flat), and three perfect ones (B - F sharp - C sharp - G sharp). His clavichord is modelled upon an instrument built by David Tannenberg in 1760, with a tone range from F to F 3'. It has a diapason of 335 millimetres on C 2'. Typologically it is an unfretted or unbound clavichord, with two unison-tuned strings attached to each key. The sole exception to this rule is represented by the bottom octave (F - E), where one of each pair of strings is tuned an octave higher, i.e. in the 4" position. The strings are metal and the dimensions of the frame are 167 x 49 x 17 centimetres. Despite all that Jaroslav's rendition does not sound quite right does it! We cannot imagine Bach playing it like that.

Our second new comer is Walter, a famous pianist. He plays the Prelude about twice as fast as the crackpot and four times as fast as Jaroslav, and fluffs a good many notes in his haste does not he. Bach would give him an F minus as a seventh-rater we think. Is not our own anonymous crackpot loopy or not more satisfying here than either of these two deluded blighters?

Gustav is indeed very good - most of the time. If we may say so though he displays a small but nonetheless regrettable lapse of taste and discrimination in bars eleven to fifteen inclusive. All those quavers in the upper part should sing forth loudly in a wholly legato way in contrast to the triplets that surround them should not they! It makes no æsthetic sense to cut them off short as Gustav does. In the case of Jaroslav too especially in bar fifteen we hear a shortcoming similar to but not as pronounced as that of Gustav.

As for Walter Gieseking we can still scarcely believe our ears. He manages with this recording to deflate in an instant his entire and hitherto considerable reputation. As another Member has already said in the similar case of - Edwin was it - he could so easily have gone back and re-recorded it, but evidently did not consider a simple correct performance of Bach's written notes to be of sufficient importance. No wonder he was "renowned for his Debussy and Ravel"!

Long ago almost every Englishman ran to a clavichord in his parlour but now the Member finds himself among the fortunate few does not he. Is it then possible does he think that we might hear it in something?

We shall indeed listen again to Gustav with the aid of a sort of oscilloscope thing and present results in due course. In the mean time may we point out that the notes most strikingly and inappropriately short are the third in bar thirteen, the fifth in bar fourteen, and the fifth in bar fifteen, all that is to say following a rest. We long to hear them longer!

To-day's very daft interpretation is of the Fugue in G major from Bach's first Book (rapid-share or send-space). As Tovey says, it is very rich in its themes. It is also very difficult to play at exactly the right tempo. Riemann - perhaps in an attempt to titillate his readers - remarks on the subject's "wanton leaps from the under-fourth and the under-leading-note."

As comparison let us listen first to Jaroslav again, and then to Glenn. Each of them gives a worthwhile performance although one is around twice as fast as the other! At first we had intended to present Samuel's here, but upon hearing his rendition of the G minor Fugue we thought it so wonderful that in two days' time we shall present that instead. Incidentally a recording of his twelve Sonatas has now arrived, many of them the first recorded performances. In the liner notes we read that in 1914 Samuel was the first pianist in Russia to perform Bach's complete Well-Tempered Clavier in concert. He was a very cultured man, spiritual, modest, and with a profound dislike of self-promotion. After his expiry in 1962 his deeply admiring pupils published his book, entitled "Pianism as an Art." Does any Member know it?