Fanfare 4

*****
I hold out great hope for David Munk-Nielsen: he presents performances of great maturity
È SCHUMANN Kinderszenen, op. 15. Fantasie in C, op. 17. SIBELIUS Ten Pieces, op. 24 (excerpts). Impromptu, op. 5/5. David Munk-Nielsen (pn) OUR RECORDINGS 8.226938 (65:30) reviewed from .wav files, 44.1 KHz, 16-bit
Entitled “Between Fire and Ice,” this disc is the debut album of the young Danish pianist David Munk-Nielsen, who intends this to be a “complete musical journey” for the listener, “rich in contrast and emotion”. It also reminds us that there is a whole side of Sibelius that is sidelined: his piano music (Joseph Tong has done sterling work in recent years to disavow us of this impression, however). The careful placement of Sibelius’ works in the context of this disc enables them to couple with Kinderszenen, providing a combined expressive counterweight to the outgoing Fantasie.
The venue for the recording was the Royal Danish Academy of Music Concert Hall; it was recorded in November 2025. Immediately, in “Von fremden Ländern und Menschen, one feels the beauty of sound Munk-Nielsen extracts from his instrument. He is unafraid to let beauty resonate, too (try the close of “Bittttendes Kind”). The first movement established his legato; his crisp staccato comes to the fore in “Kuriose Geschichte,” as does his natural rubato: no sense of the studio-bound here. Neither is Munk-Nielsen afraid to let the instrument’s sonorous bass resonate (“Hasche-Mann”). Pianists will find much to enjoy here, as pretty much every aspect of technique is finely-honed in Munk-Nielsen: “Wichtige Begebenheit” reminds us of the joy of hearing chords played exactly together, for example. Virtuosity is not necessarily velocity, he seems to remind us, and indeed the lyric impulse is high in “Trӓumerei,” and there is charm galore to “Am Kamin”. Munk-Nielsen’s accents are keenly felt. but do not stab unnecessarily (“Ritter vom Steckenpferd,” “Fürchtenmӓdchen”). The Poet speaks here with great eloquence; when sonorities hang in the air, one hears Munk-Nielsen’s perfect chord voicing.
This recorded history of this piece runs from Haskil to Zecchi, from Argerich to Frankl and everywhere and everyone in between. Munk-Nielsen has his own way and does not feel the need for interventionism to state his truth.
Less competition for the Sibelius pieces, though. First, three from op. 24, Nos. 1 (Impromptu), 6 (Notturno), and 9 (Romance). The Impromptu is presented with real urgency: here is the fire of the disc’s title. Interestingly, some of the compositional techniques seem to link to Schumann, overcast with many Nordic clouds. This, alone, is the most convincing performance of Sibelius piano music I have ever heard: Håvard Gimse’s Sibelius recordings on Naxos leave me cold, in contrast, and his op. 24/1 is no exception). Munk-Nielsen’s “Notturno,” op. 24/8, is simply epic in intent, a real example of the narrative element the pianist intends to present throughout this disc. The “Romance,” op. 24/9 seems to lean towards Grieg: it reminds me somewhat of that composer’s famous “Notturno,” op. 54/4 at first, but its more active section, complete with Lisztian cadenza, takes us to altogether different territory. Munk-Nielsen is perfect in his realization of the work’s structure: I even prefer Munk-Nielsen to Leif-Ove Andsnes (the all-Sibelius disc on Sony, Fanfare 41:4). OUR’s recording is better, too (Andsnes is a touch muffled). Finally, from op. 5, the watery Impromptu, the fifth of six Impromptus, a faultless marriage of flow and detail. One can hear every note, and yet the impact is all there, the sound painting is technicolor. Melodies project just the right amount. Cast in B-Minor and marked Vivace, there are elements of a Nordic Chopin about this, crossed with Grieg with his Lisztian hat on. Lovely calibration of pedal at the close, too. Here, Munk-Nielsen and Andsnes are closer rivals, but again Munk-Nielsen seems closer to the Sibelian heart.
It has taken full six score years for anyone to convince me that Sibelius’ piano music is of real worth. But somehow, in just a few pieces, Munk-Nielsen has done it.
And so, back to Schumann, but another side of this composer: the great C-Major Fantasie. In response, Munk-Nielsen does allow for a metallic tinge to the great right-hand melody of the opening; more, the left-hand sixteenth-note flow seems to directly relate to the Sibelius Impromptu immediately preceding: fine programming indeed. Majesty is here, too. Melodies emerge unrushed, speaking their truth, an aspect that underpins even the thorniest passage (pianists know the ones). But there are other challenges, less obvious, effortlessly negotiated: the voicing of the final measures of the first movement, for example. There are no compromises in the second movement; it emerges in perfect power without a hunt of over-pedalling. The final chord is held for so long (as if to prevent premature applause, even if we are in the studio); the finale is a Schumann Lied ohne Worte, intimate, an outbreath of lyricism holding fields of Schumann at his most fantastical.
I hold out great hope for David Munk-Nielsen. First prize winner in both Tampere and Tallinn International piano compositions in 2021, he was clearly something of a Wunderkind, as he toured Ireland and New Zealand with the New Zealand Symphony at the age of 13 (predating his first solo recital, given at the ripe old age of 15). On the present disc, he presents performances of great maturity. Munk-Nielsen tone is deep and sonorous, his technique as fearless as it is faultless. From what I can see from his website, his activities seem centered on the Nordic countries. Let’s hope he widens his scope soon. Colin Clarke