That Pogorelich loves the music of Bach is not to be doubted, in fact he can't get too much of it: in the Preludes he makes reprises (from bar 55 in No. 2 and bar 32 in No. 3), the fully repeated Sarabandes are followed by their fully repeated variants, the return to the first of each pair of galanteries (Bourrees and Gavottes, respectively) is with repeats, and when the Gigue of No. 2 has run its course it is repeated, albeit without repeats. The two suites thus occupy a decently filled CD, whereas all six normally fit on to two LPs. It is the repeats that are mainly responsible for the length but some slow tempos make their contribution, in the Allemandes and Sarabandes particularly, more than enough to counterbalance the head-long pace of the Gigues.
Pogorelich's view, that though unhappy with the pianos of his day, Bach knew that better ones would be made in the future, is curious to say the least; Bach was not, so far as we know, dissatisfied with the harpsichord, for which these suites were written. However, he does not overly abuse his self-granted freedom and overt 'pianism' comes only in the familiar form of staccato, applied to the galanteries and Courantes—doesn't 'courante' mean 'flowing'? Neither does he take any romantic liberty with the pulse, to which his rubato is always respectful, and the motor energy of the faster movements carries everything (stimulatingly, not mechanically) along with it.
These are deeply considered readings (so too were Gould's LPs on CBS M2 39682, 6/86, though laced with eccentricity) as well as marvellous displays of pianistic control, bubblingly joyous in the Preludes, raptly contemplative in the Sarabandes, commanding your attention and respect even when you don't agree with them. Pogorelich adds nothing to the score, beyond a few ornamental insonsistencies, and the repeats (back to square one!) are literal; to him, what Bach wrote is clearly sufficient. The recorded sound is of the very best; the LP slightly rounder and warmer.'