The Tunisian pianist Jean-Marc Luisada has imagination, extremely nimble fingers that enable him to bring clarity and just balance even to Granados's most ornate textures (as in the ''Endearments'' first movement of the Goyescas), and a command of fine tonal nuance that is much to be admired. But he pulls all the music about with a freedom which, tolerable at first, increasingly becomes irritatingly mannered, not merely yielding to the emotion of each moment but milking it for all it is worth in a way that results in a distortion of the Spanish style. He seems temperamentally unable to present a phrase simply and straightfowardly—a very advisable course when, as is the case with these picturesque pieces, the initial theme is elaborately worked up. Perhaps the most extreme examples of this over-indulgence and generally exaggerated rubato occur in the ''Conversation at the window-grille'' and in ''The maiden and the nightingale'' (taken excessively slowly—but the final nightingale warblings are effectively played); and it is instructive to compare his interpretations with those of Larrocha on Decca who, as a pupil at the Granados School in Barcelona, absorbed the true tradition.'