It is good to have Goldmark's Rustic Wedding Symphony in the CD catalogue at last, a work admired by Brahms (and Beecham), and worthy of such admiration for its very unpretentiousness and charm. Whether or not its five movements constitute a nineteenth-century symphony proper (it dates from 1876) is of no consequence. It is very well constructed, has amiable tunes throughout, and its only fault is that the first movement is so striking that it tends to dwarf the rest of the piece.
It opens with a distinctly rustic theme, gently announced by the lower strings which when taken up jauntily by the horns, with a commentary then added by the woodwind (like birds flying overhead) provides a passage of the utmost magic. Then follow a series of expert variations, unflagging in invention and orchestral skill. Here the only problem is the wide dynamic range of the recording, so that when the trombones enter rather blatantly one wants to turn the volume down. The recording was made in London's Henry Wood Hall which provides plenty of ambient bloom, but it has a typical Brian Culverhouse balance, which means that the violins as well as the brass are brightly lit. But detail is excellent (the chattering flutes variation sounds charming) and Yondani Butt has the full measure of this score. His tempos are apt and he brings a Beechamesque touch to the agreeable central movements. The charming and very feminine ''Bride's song'' is followed by a ''Serenade'' (with some deliciously pointed woodwind detail—even though the rhythmic touch is gentle) and then comes the hazily romantic picture of a summer garden, with its lovely languorous string melody (phrased ravishingly here)—a pity the climax is recorded just a little fiercely—to be reprised most effectively in the vigorously boisterous dance finale with its touches of fugato. The whole piece is full of humanity and good spirits, with which Butt and the RPO readily identify.
The Overture (written seven years earlier) is quite effective, with themes somewhat redolent of the symphony but not quite as striking, except for the rather fine opening which is presented most evocatively. At 17 minutes it is perhaps overlong, but Butt makes the very most of it. There is a good mix of melodrama and lyricism and the lusty brass writing sounds fuller, more sonorous than in the symphony—agreeably so and the overall balance makes more of the spread of the hall acoustics, especially at the climax. A most desirable disc—if you haven't experienced the Symphony (and that wonderful moment when the horns enter) you are in for a proper treat.'