An all-Schubert recital, made up of some two dozen love lyrics, horror stories, mythological flights, wistful ditties, resounding hymns, and time-stopping moments of contemplation—this is just about the last thing you’d expect from the clarion Lise Davidsen in her Carnegie Hall recital debut. Yet here we are. Davidsen’s a brave artist. Kirsten Flagstad and Birgit Nilsson, the Wagnerian powerhouses to whom her fans like to compare her, sang precious little Schubert on the Carnegie Hall stage (in Nilsson’s case, just three songs). Jessye Norman, Kathleen Battle, and Bryn Terfel—chameleons, dedicated recitalists, and first-class Schubertians all—had the imaginative range for such a program as Davidsen’s but never went that route at Carnegie Hall. Apart from the cycles Die schöne Müllerin, Winterreise, and Schwanengesang, the most recent all-Schubert recital I’ve located browsing the archives is that of the Circean Elly Ameling’s on April 5, 1984. Davidsen’s pealing upper register should serve her well for the grandeur of “Die Allmacht,” a celebration of almighty Jehovah, or for the ecstasies of the young bride of Christ in “Die junge Nonne.” The Grim Reaper’s low monotone in “Der Tod und das Mädchen” may well elude her. And can her she scale down for the skipping mischief of “Der Musensohn” and airy sensuality “Suleika I?” We’ll see. As many a songster will tell you, recitals are a lot harder than operas. You’re out there all the time, and every song needs to evoke its own world. The gradations in Schubert are especially multifarious. We salute Davidsen for her artistic daredeviltry. And here’s a good omen: her partner at the keyboard is James Baillieu, a trusty navigator of Schubert’s Seven Seas. —Matthew Gurewitsch