Who would ever have thought that a place called Jugendstiltheater would be an indoor swimming pool? This latest account of Book I of "the Forty-Eight" was recorded there and if it is not a swimming pool, an aircraft hanger or something else of the sort, engineer Markus Heiland has put considerable effort into making it sound like one.

As for Till Fellner, he plays the music more than competently. In fact, one suspects that if his piano had been recorded more sympathetically, this recording would be of some interest.

Even so, one can think of a number of competing recordings that have more to offer. András Schiff's, though it can be a little quirky, is more consistently satisfying. Friedrich Gulda's venerable recording, not quite as consistent or coherent, in its overall musical statement, is often characterful and thouroughly pleasing.

For many of us, of course, the benchmark for WTC recordings on the piano is the Angela Hewitt set, one of the finest achievements of an exceptionally distinguished recording career.

There are doubtless listeners who would prefer Fellner's approach to Hewitt's. He is more conservative in several ways. His dynamics and tempi are narrower in range than hers, for example, and there are none of the subtle and imaginative touches that illuminate Hewitt's version, like holding the last chord of the Fugue in C-sharp minor for twenty seconds. Neither is there much magic.

Only a few musicians, Hewitt chief among them, have succeeded in presenting these twenty-four preludes and fugues as a unified musical and emotional statement. Fellner's effort amounts to more than note-spinning, but his achievement is less than outstanding.