The compass of the guitar is similar to that of the cello and, though one octave lower, that of the violin—within the customary limits of baroque usage, Bach's bowed-string solo works have thus been gratefully adopted by guitarists for just over half a century. The practice of extracting isolated movements to serve in mixed programmes persisted until the 1960s, when guitarists began to present some of the Cello Suites in their entirety; now, in the 1980s, the Violin Sonatas and Partitas are coming into their own. Arrangers have followed the examples set by Bach's own adaptations (BWV995/1011 and 1006a–1006) in adding implied basses and beefing up chords; guitarists can also choose whether or not to emphasize a three- or four-note chord by spreading it, whereas bowed-string players cannot. The violin works are more 'complete' in themselves than those for the cello, the latter instrument restricted by its larger fingerboard, but the roundabouts of their heavier demands on velocity are offset by the swings of their fuller textures, reducing the need to add further notes—and, often, the practicability of so doing.
All that is needed for the guitar to shine fresh light on the violin works is a player with the requisite musical and stylistic insight, and the technical ability to put it to good use; Bungarten, the first guitarist to record all three sonatas, certainly has these qualities and I warmly recommend any Bach-lover (and most of those who play Bach on the guitar) to hear this recording. In all respects it is stylistically respectful, phrasing flows so seamlessly that one is unaware of the technical difficulties involved—and with warmth and flexibility. Guitarists have long detached the Siciliana and Fugue of BWV1001 and presented them in A minor; Bungarten adheres to G minor, and without penalty. The recording is as flawless as the playing, reference to; ''the lute and piano versions written by the composer himself (BWV964, 968, 1000)'' is the fly in the otherwise well-formulated ointment of the annotation.'