An Interview with Pianist Rikke Sandberg
BY KEITH R. FISHER

Preliminarily, let me briefly summarize information about Rikke Sandberg’s musical studies and career not covered in her previous Fanfare interview. Rikke began to play the piano at the age of 8. She was accepted to the Royal Danish Academy of Music at the age of 16, where she studied with Anne Øland and Jose Ribera. Rikke completed her studies at the Royal Academy with the highest distinction, after having won several first prizes at the Steinway Festival and the gold medal at the Berlinske Music Competition. Following her studies in Copenhagen, Rikke went on to study at the Manhattan School of Music in New York, with Nina Svetlanova and Jacob Lateiner (who was teaching at Juilliard). In 2006, following her return to Copenhagen, Rikke was appointed Jose Ribera`s teaching assistant at the Royal Danish Academy.
Since then, Rikke has become a fixture of the Danish musical scene. She is the recipient of Anmelderringen’s Artist Award, Helge and Merete Finsen’s Honorary Grant, Jacob Gade’s Great Grant, Aennchen & Eigil Harby’s Fund Grant, Victor Schiøler’s Memorial Grant and Sonning’s Talent Award. She has also been Classical Musician of the Year in Dagbladet Politiken, and she is the progenitrix of the Nordic Chamber Music Festival. She has performed with a great many orchestras—among them, the Danish National Radio Symphony Orchestra, the Tivoli Symphony Orchestra, Tivoli`s Promenade Orchestra, the Danish National Radio Chamber Orchestra, the Leipzig Philharmonia, the Luxembourg Philharmonia, and the Band of the Royal Danish Lifeguards—and she has worked with a variety of conductors, including (in no particular order) Thomas Dausgaard, Giordano Bellincampi, Răsvan Cernat, John Storgårds, Mei-Ann Chen, Alondra de la Parra, Adam Fischer, Cristian Mandeal, and David Porcelijn.

Hello, Rikke. It’s a pleasure to welcome you back to Fanfare. You are already a veteran of Fanfare interviews, having done one with Colin Clarke in 2024 in connection with your previous recording of Carl Nielsen’s music—on that occasion his arrangements for four hands of some of his orchestral music. Two years later, your most recent release is an even more ambitious project: a three-CD traversal of Nielsen’s music for solo piano. How exciting to have these performances, much of it heretofore obscure repertoire, added to the catalog!
I’ll understand if your answer to this question is “Carl Nielsen” or “I don’t have one” —but, who is your favorite composer? (I confess that when I have been asked that question, my answer has changed at different points in my life!) My impetus for asking is that you have recorded other piano repertoire, including music of Rachmaninoff (both a disc of solo piano music and the iconic second concerto, paired with Liszt’s second), Brahms (two different discs of solo piano music), a disc with your compatriot, Tanja Zapolski, of four-hand music by Schubert, Shostakovich, Dvořák, and Bernstein) and even a charming disc, glowingly reviewed by Jerry Dubins in 32:2, that includes a concerto for piano and saxophone by Anders Koppel. So, for instance, not yet Beethoven, Bach (other than the Brahms left-hand transcription of the Chaconne), Mozart, Chopin, Schumann, or Scriabin but for all I know one of those might actually be the answer to my question or the beneficiary of your next recording project!
Well, I think choosing a favorite composer is a bit like declaring pasta carbonara your favorite dish. Even if you deeply enjoy listening to or playing a particular composer at a given moment—and may even crave their music for an extended period—no composer, like no dish, exists in isolation. Nothing truly stands alone.
Of course, I am very much in love with Carl Nielsen these days, and I feel it is a relationship that will continue to grow and flourish for many years—perhaps for the rest of my life. But I adore so much music and so many composers, and I believe that the variety of my tastes is what makes my musical life colorful and unpredictable—just the way I like it.
One of your Brahms recordings was favorably reviewed by Huntley Dent (in 42:6), though less favorably elsewhere (e.g., by Jed Distler for Classics Today), but there is another disc that includes the famous F-Minor Sonata (op. 5) and the Waltzes (op. 39). Are your two Brahms discs early installments in a planned traversal of all of his solo piano music? If not, I’d be interested in your choice of works to record: only one set of Brahms’s variations (the Hungarian theme, but not the companion Original Theme, nor the Schumann, nor the Handel), of only one set of the Klavierstücke (op. 76) and not any of the late piano works except for op. 116, No. 2. Assuming no further recordings are planned, one possible explanation for this selection of odds and ends could be what those choices have in common, namely that they are less well-trodden; but then that working hypothesis falls apart, because you also selected the most frequently programmed of the three piano sonatas. So, dare we hope for more Brahms solo works or perhaps the concerti?
I truly enjoy playing Brahms, and yes—it’s actually the recording that has brought me both some of my finest international reviews and, at the same time, perhaps the harshest criticism I’ve ever received. In a way, that makes me happy: it shows just how differently music can be heard and experienced.
You did strike a nerve in mentioning Jed Distler. His review reminded me of many of the aspects of the classical music world that I find most troubling. At the same time, it also led me to reflect on something quite striking: although Carl Nielsen was not only a widely recognized composer internationally, but also a highly accomplished violinist, not to mention conductor, as well as a director and teacher at the Royal Danish Academy of Music, I have yet to come across a single instance in which he expressed himself in such a tone about colleagues, students, or fellow musicians.
This is not because he lacked opinions—on the contrary, he often held very strong ones—but he never seemed to feel the need to diminish others or their work in order to assert his own authority or importance. Perhaps this is just one of many reasons why I feel such deep admiration and respect for him, both as a composer and as a human being.
That said, I have to admit that I did take it somewhat personally when I was described as “idiosyncratic” and “self-indulgent.” Nothing could be further from how I see myself as a musician. I sometimes wonder why a reviewer feels compelled to use such strong language, rather than simply acknowledging that the interpretation does not resonate with them, or expressing their views in a more measured and less personal way. The idea that there is one definitive “correct” way to interpret music feels, to me, rather outdated—perhaps a remnant of a time when musical authority was more rigid and hierarchical.
More broadly, I think this touches on a tradition within classical music criticism that can feel quite dated—one in which authority is asserted rather than argued, and where certain voices have historically dominated the conversation. The idea that there is a single, “correct” way to interpret music belongs, in my view, to another era—one shaped largely by male gatekeepers with a very prescriptive sense of taste. While that legacy still lingers in some corners, I believe we are (fortunately) moving toward a more open and pluralistic understanding of interpretation.
At the same time, I want to emphasize that I deeply value thoughtful, informed, and constructive criticism—it is an essential part of artistic growth. What I find less productive are critiques that become personal or dismissive in tone.
However, as a dear colleague said to me afterwards: “He not only compares you to Julius Katchen—he’s also clearly been strongly affected by your playing. No one reacts that strongly to something that leaves them indifferent.”
Being compared to Julius Katchen is high praise, indeed—particularly in the context of performing the music of Brahms!
That perspective helped me move past the initial sense of shame and intimidation the review had stirred in me—a feeling that, I suspect, many classical musicians of my generation and older will recognize from certain masterclasses and encounters with prominent figures. Too often, these situations have been shaped less by a genuine desire to support artistic growth and more by a need to assert authority or display personal stature.
It is something I think about every day in my own teaching at the Royal Danish Academy of Music: how to create an environment that truly empowers students, rather than diminishing them.
But to return to Brahms: I have certainly considered the idea of recording a complete cycle of his piano works, though for now it remains just that—an idea. In recent years, Carl Nielsen has quite naturally taken center stage for me. Not only because I am Danish, but because his music resonates deeply with where I find myself artistically and personally at this point in my life. Brahms is not going anywhere, and I may well return to him in the future.
In the meantime, I have performed many of the other works you mention, including additional sets of Intermezzi and the Handel Variations—so let’s see what the future brings.
What was the impetus, over 100 years after his death, for your “labor of love” with the complete solo piano music of Nielsen? Clearly you spent considerable time unearthing some hidden treasures (including those covered in your prior Fanfare interview). How and when did the recording project with OUR Recordings come together?
I noticed that playing the Third Symphony in the 4-hand arrangement was more and more fun and interesting every time, new layers and ways of phrasing and communicating appeared, new ways of coloring and bringing alternative voicing to the attention of the listener revealed themself. After recording it, I felt like staying with Carl Nielsen, and the idea about the solo pieces started when I saw that it actually was almost 20 years ago since the music in total was recorded last time. I honestly didn’t think I had anything new to bring to this, (other than some idiosyncratic and self-indulgent interpretations—okay, I will leave Jed Distler in peace now). Besides, from my personal take, there were a number of pretty well-known piano works, but then, as it turned out, there was more material to discover than had been “discovered” before. At first, I honestly didn’t feel I had anything particularly new to add—apart from my own personal perspective on these relatively well-known pieces. But as I began to look more closely, I discovered that there was significantly more material than I had expected.
Of course, none of this music was a hidden secret in some box in an attic, but no pianist had looked at these extra pieces or arrangements and taken them into their repertoire or recorded them. It seemed like a national treasure that had only been looked at by scholars and librarians and that was waiting to be reinvigorated. I did give quite some thought to whether I should leave the arrangements out of this recording and make a third CD with them as an independent recording. But in the end, after having worked with all the music, it felt like the best decision was to have all of Carl Nielsen’s piano music—solo, arrangements, and incidental music—in one united box. I also think this was the best way to bring all the arrangements to more listeners’ attention and maybe even hope for the day when youngsters in music schools across the country (and maybe even across the world) want to play “The Mist is lifting” alongside, or perhaps even instead of, Für Elise.
As for how the project with OUR Recordings came together, it developed quite organically out of this growing engagement with Nielsen’s music. Once the scope of the repertoire became clear, it felt like a natural continuation of my collaboration with the label and a project that we all believed in deeply.
To be sure, this recent 3-disc set has opened the ears of classical music lovers (and especially those outside of Denmark) to hitherto unknown felicities of Carl Nielsen’s oeuvre. Might you be inclined to do a similar service for Danish culture with regard to piano manuscripts by the likes of (just off the top of my head) Emil Hartmann, Nielsen’s teacher Gade, Nielsen’s student Holmboe, Holmboe’s student Nørgård, and others (e.g., Langgaard, Rasmussen, Ruders, Sørenson), that might be languishing on a bookshelf somewhere or yellowing in a box belonging to the composers or their descendants or estates?
Looking ahead, I am very excited about a new double piano concerto by Danish composer, Anders Koppel, which Kristoffer Hyldig and I will premiere next year. It’s especially meaningful for me, since Anders Koppel is the son of Herman D Koppel, whose Third Piano Concerto I previously performed and recorded. Herman D. Koppel was a student of Carl Nielsen in composition, so everything is related! I very much hope this project will also lead to a recording.
Are there any chamber music projects on the drawing board for Rikke Sandberg?
Yes, very much so. I am currently in the process of recording three piano quartets and a piano trio by Salomon Jadassohn for the label cpo. I have also recently recorded two larger chamber works by the Danish composers Ejnar Kanding and Carsten Bo Eriksen, together with violinist Kirstine Schneider; these releases will be available on streaming platforms.
Alongside these chamber and concerto projects, the coming year will still be closely connected to Carl Nielsen. I will be performing recitals featuring his music, and likely pairing it with Beethoven in 2027. I am also initiating a larger artistic research project on Nielsen’s piano music next semester, which I am particularly excited about. As part of that, I hope to travel to Seattle to meet and interview Mina F. Miller about her substantial and lifelong engagement with Nielsen’s work.
Thank you, Rikke. It has been a pleasure getting to know you—and, in a very real sense due to your efforts, getting to know Nielsen’s music outside of his orchestral works. I am intrigued by the pairing of Nielsen and Beethoven that you mentioned and look forward to hearing those performances.