‘The tirelessly active instrument maker, Mr Stauffer … has introduced a new instrument, which he calls the Guitarre d’amour’, reported the Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung in April 1823. ‘Similar in form to ordinary guitars, only larger in size, strung with wire and gut strings, which … is played by means of a bow, in beauty, fullness and sweetness of tone in the high register reminiscent of the oboe, and in the low register of the basset horn … and which is praised by all experts as a desirable enrichment of art.’ This guitarre d’amour was the curious and quickly obsolete six-stringed instrument which, thanks to Schubert’s 1824 sonata now beloved of cellists and viola players, is now more commonly referred to as the Arpeggione (‘Big Chord’, presumably referring to its huge range) – although only in Schubert was it ever called that, everyone else plumping for guitarre d’amour, Bogen-Gitarre or Sentiment-Gitarre, on account of its soft-voiced lyricism.

Whatever you call it, recordings using it are a rarity. But here we have one from Martin Zeller – longstanding principal cellist of the Kammerorchester Basel – with fortepianist Giorgio Paronuzzi and guitarist Víctor Castillo Luna, and the first thing to say is that a tremendous amount of thought has gone into their selection of instruments. Keller’s arpeggione is a notably light and mellow-voiced copy by Philippe Mottet-Rio of a model by Stauffer pupil Anton Mitteis. As for Paronuzzi, don’t get too excited (or worried) about the 19th-century answer to the keytar that he sports on the front cover, because this appears to be only for show – his actual instrument is a standard, medium-weight fortepiano after an 1815 Johann Fritz (Vienna). Castillo Luna plays on a copy of an 1838 Parisian Romantic guitar, which itself has a nice balance of dulcetness and brightness.

There’s a lot to enjoy here. The Arpeggione Sonata itself has a lovely easy tempo, subtle metrical fluidity and a whimsical, shapely lilt. Zeller’s neatly sprightly account is also more boldly early-Romantic than day-job cellists often dare when handling this strange instrument, with the odd portamento swoop thrown in. His and Paronuzzi’s embellishments add to the feel of gentle vivacity. Onwards, and Zeller’s own Schubert transcriptions are clever, playing to the instrument’s guitar aspect as much as its cello one. When in the first movement of the (Violin) Sonata D384 he plays his piano bar 48 entry pizzicato, and likewise his chugging chords shortly afterwards, it sounds for all the world as though Castillo Luna has suddenly joined in. Differently special is ‘Ihr Bild’, this one played solo, alternating between bowed and pizzicato, and drawing emotively on the instrument’s plangent qualities.

Castillo Luna ensures further highlights are made of the two transcriptions by Arpeggione Sonata dedicatee Vincenz Schuster (a cello and guitar virtuoso friend of Schubert’s), sensitively accompanying the Adagio from Bernhard Romberg’s Cello Concerto in A while Zeller leaps on its opportunity to show his instrument’s upper-register sweetness and delicacy, and bringing a beautiful sunny bounce and responsiveness to his Faust Polacca support.

Will this convert those who find the arpeggione just a bit too twangingly nasal? Possibly not all of it. But it’s sophisticatedly done, studio-captured with immediacy using Dolby Atmos, and ‘Ihr Bild’ would melt the hardest of hearts.