With a name (new to me) suggesting hot Latin-American or Spanish blood, it is perhaps not surprising to find Osorio an urgent, forward-driving Schumann player not given to expressive dalliance. But only the finale struck me as slightly insensitive, too militant. There is much in the first two movements that I found muscially sympathetic in a straightforward kind of way, though I must emphasize the word straightforward. The catalogue offers many a more spiritually illuminating performance from artists prepared to allow phrasing just a little more time to breathe—or should I say prepared to allow themselves a little more time to read between the lines.
Made in Watford Town Hall, on the outskirts of London, the recording seems to favour the piano. Even if not exactly outweighed (except in one or two woodwind solos in the first movement) Batiz and his orchestra yet give the impression of being placed well behind the keyboard. The quality of recorded sound is rounded. But there is nothing like the tonal radiance or the textural clarity of, say, the Lupu/Previn version for Decca (SXL6624, 2/74), which is primarily why, even though this LP is very generously filled, I can't whole-heartedly acclaim it as a bargain.
Within this qualification, I enjoyed Saint-Saens's Wedding Cake a lot, for its scintillating charm no less than its brio. In Franck's Symphonic Variations I thought the orchestra not peremptory and imposing enough in the opening dialogue. But certainly Batiz and his soloist respond to Franck's demands for ''collaboration rather than competition'' as the sleeve-note aptly puts it. As for Osorio himself, possibly he could have created a greater aura of mystery when the music retreats into the shadows. But for the most part he is on Franck's wavelength, and in the full bright light of day shows himself a player of undoubted command.'