n Schubert for Two, violinist Gil Shaham and guitarist Göran Söllscher have assembled a remarkable Schubertiade of familiar tunes from Vienna's bottomless well, all arranged for violin and guitar. This unusual pairing is one with which Schubert was not unfamiliar (the fifteen dances from D 365 were arranged by him for flute or violin and guitar) and it works. The piano in Schubert's day was a nimbler forebear to the modern industrial marvel of the concert hall, more akin to the articulate, woody tone of the classical guitar.

At the violin, Shaham is his usual warm, assured self, tender, strong, and unfailingly limber, with the technique of ten men: The double stops in the tastefully un-cloying reading of the "Ave Maria" are enough to make a student head for the practice room and a virtuoso turn green. For his part, Söllscher is equally pristine on the guitar; his tone is warm and his playing is solid, never a chip or a buzz.

Throughout the program, intimacy prevails, and producer Sid McLauchlan has captured it. At times, the sound just a notch up from a whisper mixed with the subtle breathing of the players, then it swells to a gutsy forte. In what is one of the most dynamically contrasted performances you'll ever hear on LP, Shaham and Söllscher never lose the feeling of a living room setting. Close your eyes and you can smell the Café Viennoise. This may well be the LP of the decade: you'll want one for your Mom, one for your son, one for your dog, and one more for the car, just so everyone can be reminded of what's good in the world.