Creating a convincing transcription is one of the greatest challenges a musician can espouse. Why? Because it requires input not normally part of his or her remit. Decisions are needed on how exactly to realize a composer's intentions on a different instrument or ensemble to the original. In contrast to the traditional composer/performer archetype, another person is injected into the equation. Sometimes it is the composer, arranging his or her own music – as Franck did with the piano duet version of his symphony. Sometimes, it is an independent transcriber, tasked with producing a convincing arrangement for others to perform. A third option has the performer also acting as transcriber, fulfilling an understandable desire to retain maximum artistic control. Wisely, organist Simon Johnson opts for the third of these in his performance of César Franck's Symphony in D Minor (1888), eschewing transcriptions by the likes of Calvin Hampton and Heinrich Walther, and producing his own arrangement – a herculean task. His transcription remains unpublished, thus protecting the mystique of his fine realization of this challenging score.

Did Franck ever play his symphony on the organ himself? Sadly, history has deprived us of any record of a specific instance. Yet it seems almost unimaginable that themes from this work didn't receive their genesis there, being woven into the improvisations for which the composer was so justly renowned. As both player and composer, Franck relied very much on the skills of organ builder Aristide Cavaillé-Coll, who created instruments designed to emulate the symphony orchestra in both expressive power and tonal palette. As early as 1851, when he became organist of Saint-Jean-Saint-François in the Marais district of Paris, Franck realized that he had such potential at his fingertips, and it was when experimenting with the Cavaillé-Coll instrument there that he made the now famous remark: ‘Mon nouvel orgue? C'est un orchestre!’Footnote ¹ His final appointment to the church of Ste Clotilde, in 1858, and the installation of the new Cavaillé-Coll organ there later that year, sealed the partnership. An actual organ symphony followed in 1863, the Grande Pièce symphonique, a composition that was to bear further fruit both in the D minor symphony – with which it shares many features – and also in the subsequent tradition of pieces in this genre that flowered with Widor and Vierne. Thus was the stage set for a transcription such as this.

Simon Johnson very much owns the dual role of transcriber/performer, and his overall realization is magnificent. There are many moments where he makes it sound as if this symphony were actually written for the instrument. True, there are places where he has more than a little help from the composer: the opening ‘Allegro’ (and its repetition in F minor) and the quieter transition leading up to the glorious second theme in the first movement are but two of many. Johnson's superlative technique is also invaluable in assisting the transference from orchestra to organ. He has the uncanny ability to make orchestral textures that might seem awkward in the hands of a lesser player, sound completely native to the instrument. Transcription aside, his interpretation is finely attuned, with an appropriate degree of rhythmic flexibility and spaciousness designed to highlight both the architecture of the work (and building) and the expressive power of Franck's melodic and harmonic writing. His intimate knowledge of the Grand Organ at St Paul's becomes readily apparent in his performance, and particularly in his accurate recreation of the opening of the second movement. The registration he selects here indeed conjures up pizzicato orchestral strings to remarkable effect. One should note in passing that all registration changes are done by Johnson alone, no mean feat in itself. The climaxes are beautifully handled – seamless, in fact, even though no organist can ever quite match the subtlety of the orchestral crescendo.

This brings me to my only reservations, which concern the expressive potential of organ as opposed to the orchestra – issues that should really be raised elsewhere. While a great deal is possible on the instrument, as Johnson has more than amply demonstrated, some orchestral effects are extremely difficult to replicate. String tremolos – perhaps the most challenging texture for any keyboard – fare least well, because they don't lend themselves to the organ as well as they do an orchestra. Winds and brass fare far better. Issues of timbre can also be challenging. Solo organ stops play a significant role in this transcription, and they were an important innovation by Cavaillé-Coll, increasing the expressive potential of the instrument. However, they do not have the ability to produce the subtle melodic nuances so often heard from the world's great orchestral players.

Judged by the above yardsticks, this recording of Franck's D Minor Symphony must surely be deemed an unqualified success, though the same can hardly be said for the premiere of the original version of the work. This is not the forum to discuss the formal or artistic criticism that has been leveled at the work over the years: Johnson covers some of this in his excellent liner notes. The fact that I find myself resisting the urge to assess the symphony itself, directing my full attention to this transcription and performance, attests to the quality and conviction of Johnson's vision, and perhaps it is the definitive rendition for the instrument.

Two original compositions for the organ are also on included here. The ever-popular ‘Pièce héroïque’ (1878) was composed for the opening of another significant Cavaillé-Coll instrument that same year at the Trocadéro in Paris. Composed seven years after the occupation of France by the Prussians, it evokes some extra-musical associations, in this case the pounding hooves, beating drums and trumpet fanfares of military conflict. Ever faithful to his romantic muse, Franck reprises the second theme in grand fashion at the end – hence the name – this time, in the tonic major of B. Even here the feeling of tragedy is never far from the surface, with minor-mode harmony ensuring that the mixed emotions of this work – the defeated yet morally victorious French have been suggested – are fully exploited, even in the closing bars, all brilliantly realized by Johnson on this remarkable Willis instrument.

Recording engineers Martin Haskell and Iestyn Rees and producer Richard Pinel are to be commended for the manner in which they handle the difficult acoustics at St Paul's. While the listener is aware of the reverberation, it does not muddy the waters, and a remarkable clarity of texture is achieved throughout. Also included on the CD are the ‘Cantabile’, the second of Trois Pièces, and the ‘Symphonic Interlude’ from Franck's oratorio Rédemption (transcribed by Daniel Roth), both of which enjoy fine, sensitive performances in Simon Johnson's hands.