Cellists love Schubert for the wonderful things he gives them in the String Quintet, but he wrote nothing for solo cello. Anne Gastinel gives a charming apologia for this programme of transcriptions, in the form of a letter to Schubert, but the best justification lies in the appropriateness of the material and the standard of performance. The Arpeggione Sonata, indeed, sounds better on the cello than on any other conventional instrument, and the fact that some passages lie uncomfortably high is no problem for someone with Gastinel’s technique. This is a suave performance; there’s a wide range of expression and the more lively sections are played brilliantly, with plenty of spirit. At the other end of the scale, Gastinel and Désert create a beautiful atmosphere, sad yet tranquil, in those places (the end of the first movement, the latter stages of the Adagio) where Schubert allows the energy of his musical discourse to drain away.

The little D major Violin Sonata transcribes well, apart from a few places where a low cello accompaniment muddies the harmonic waters. The outer movements aren’t taken too fast, so that the cantabile themes have space to breathe. But I wish Gastinel had played certain slurred passages, like the counterpoint in the Andante’s final section, more smoothly.

The song transcriptions are well chosen and faithful (the original keys are retained), and Gastinel compensates for the absence of words with inspired changes of tone colour. For example, the heartbroken Miller’s lament has a stark sound, without vibrato, to contrast with the softer tone of the consoling brook. Claire Désert reveals herself as a most accomplished, lively accompanist.