The printed interview accompanying this disc finds both musicians defensive about the lightweight nature of much of their programme. Why? The charming miniatures, in their original keyboard form, were written for amateurs to accompany dances or to play as an attractive alternative to languishing on a chaise longue. Not everything need be a Great C major Symphony. And Söllscher, when asked about arrangements, denies being ‘untrue to Schubert and his time’.

Actually, Shaham and Söllscher are fully immersing themselves in the musical language of Schubert’s time, when you often got to experience a large-scale work only through a piano reduction, the salons of both Vienna and Paris had fully embraced the guitar and many guitarists were also fine violinists. In addition, it’s not to be forgotten that Schubert himself played the guitar. If anything, this disc represents a totally authentic foray into Viennese salon music of the Biedermeier period – though admittedly on modern instruments.

As to the performances, Shaham and Söllscher prove ideal partners. If you know their previous disc of the music of Paganini (another guitarist who apparently played the violin), you’ll relish the present one. A little different, perhaps: more refinement than flash and fire. As Tovey said, the fortepiano was all about suggestion; this holds equally true for the guitar of any period. Both performers understand this, with Shaham modifying his tone to suit the modest dynamic range of the guitar and Söllscher avoiding the temptation to overplay. Everything is finely nuanced and textured. The performance of the more emotionally expansive Arpeggione Sonata, in particular, is astonishing in the wealth of orchestral colours it suggests. All in all, a subtle and attractive release, ideal for concentrated listening or as an unobtrusive accompaniment to polite social gatherings.