Time was when Charles-Marie Widor was known only for his Toccata in F, which, in all its multitudinous recorded versions, only occasionally acknowledged the fact that it came from his Fifth Symphony. It seems like only yesterday that Widor was regarded as a one-work composer. How times have changed. Today his extensive, wide-ranging output is generously represented in the catalogues, with almost a dozen currently available versions of one or more of his 10 massive symphonies for solo organ.

It is perhaps unfortunate that Christian Schmitt’s recordings come hot on the heels of Joseph Nolan’s excellent Widor cycle, for Nolan’s combination of vivid virtuosity, towering technique and inspired interpretative intensity, coupled with excellent recordings from Signum Classics, makes his set the current yardstick in Widor symphony recordings. For all the obvious eagerness in this playing, Schmitt never really reaches the heights of excellence which are so consistent in Nolan’s recordings. That said, there is still much to relish here.

Widor conceived his symphonies for various organs around France, but the one thing they had in common was that they were all built by Aristide Cavaillé-Coll and featured the unique tonal qualities – roaring reeds, haunting flutes and captivating solo stops – by which a Cavaillé-Coll is instantly recognisable. It is appropriate, therefore, that Schmitt should have recorded these symphonies on one of Cavaillé-Coll’s greatest creations, the organ of St Ouen in Rouen (which was also the instrument for which the Ninth Symphony was conceived). This organ is itself well represented in the catalogue, and perhaps one seeking the truest representation of the organ’s sound might look to one of those other recordings to get a better taste of the instrument: this one is strangely boxy and distant, as if recorded from behind a closed door; and while the organ’s charms are much in evidence, the generally distant and fuzzy sound tends to be more atmospheric than illuminating.

In his playing Schmitt certainly does not want for enthusiasm, even to the point of occasionally allowing it to get the better of his technique. His very brisk romp through the Allegro cantabile movement of the Fifth leads to a flurry of minor accidents, while the dark opening of the Ninth wallows around as if in some kind of primeval mud which obscures a lot of detail, although it beautifully conveys the Gothique implications of the Symphony’s title. But where he can keep command of his fingers and enthusiasm, the results are breathtaking – note particularly his scintillating performance of the Sixth Symphony’s Intermezzo and the stirring rhythmic impetus that underpins his expansive account of the finale of the Tenth Symphony.

The upside of Schmitt’s unflagging enthusiasm for this music are some truly committed performances which draw you into a musical world in which effect and gesture count for more than precision and clarity. Here is a player who obviously loves this music, relishes its opportunities for exploring the tonal resources of this magnificent organ and gets right down into the very soul of the music. In short, where the fingers slip or the command weakens, the emotion drives it all along with arresting persuasiveness.

In one key area, this set from CPO comprehensively outshines the Signum discs: in the booklet documentation. Instead of the often obtuse and pretentious essays of the latter, we have fulsome commentary and discussion from a couple of writers which not only put the music in its context and detail its historical and textural foundations but add much illumination to the playing, making this a release which, for all its flaws, is still a valuable addition to the Widor discography.