I’ve noted in these pages before the re emergence of the 16 foot register (sounding an octave below normal pitch) in performances of Bach’s harpsichord music, notably at the hands of Andreas Staier and Aapo Häkkinen. One person who would doubtless have been delighted by such a turn of events before his death last year was Rafael Puyana, who in his booklet-note to this recording laments that for the last 50 years or so harpsichord orthodoxy has favoured the ‘seductive sounds’ of French- and Flemish-style instruments ‘emasculated by the austere removal out of musicological prudery of genouillères and boîte d’expression’ – in other words, that a purist ideal of uniformity of sound has declared the use of such things as the 16 foot, two foot and colour-changing lute or nasard stops to be ‘vulgar’. Staier and Häkkinen have recently revealed that it need not be so; but here is Puyana in recordings from the 1980s, now released for the first time, showing that there was a historical case for it all along.

That case is made by the harpsichord itself, an imposing specimen built in 1740 by Hieronymus Albrecht Hass boasting no fewer than three manuals. In this it is the only surviving instrument of its kind, a mighty apotheosis of the German school of harpsichord makers whose organistic pursuit of a wide colour palette can hardly be ignored when searching for an appropriate sound world for Bach. Puyana uses all the sounds at his disposal but is far from being vulgar with them, generally favouring block contrasts of timbre over gratuitous manual-hopping, and often finding a truly impressive grandeur. A pupil of Landowska, his natural tendency is towards the legato line, with more detailed articulation used mainly to help achieve contrapuntal clarity, something he does very well, even when the 16 foot is on (just listen to the Fifth Gigue). There is mastery here; but less gripping is a stately steadiness of tempo that can make somewhat featureless landscapes of some movements. And, magnificent as it looks, the actual sound of the harpsichord is not in itself an especially beguiling one. There are also some strange edits to disturb the listener.

The story of how this instrument came into Puyana’s possession and of its restoration is a warming one and is well told in the booklet by the producer, whose labour of love this release truly is. Yet while harpsichord enthusiasts will certainly need to hear it, it is unlikely to become a first choice for the repertoire.