This year, concert halls and broadcasters are justifiably celebrating composers Jean Sibelius and Carl Nielsen who were both born 150 years ago, Sibelius in Finland, Nielsen in Denmark. But what about the smaller fish? Are we going to be able to attend concerts and listen to lots of recordings of music by Alberic Magnard - the brave Frenchman born on exactly the same day as Nielsen in 1865, or the Jewish Hungarian Karl Goldmark, the centenary of whose death is also marked this year. If you are thinking, ''Who was Karl Goldmark,'' let alone Alberic Magnard, then perhaps I have already made my point.

When Goldmark died in 1915, he was one of the most celebrated composers in Europe. Even Richard Wagner, famous for his antipathy to Jewish music and musicians, had a few kind words for Goldmark. But who sings his praises today? The efforts of the Nazis to expunge the music, memories and lives of Jews in general and Jewish artists in particular are well known. In the case of Jewish composers, they were unfortunately only too successful; Goldmark is by no means alone in his neglect. Music lovers may know his name in connection with the Rustic Wedding Symphony. However, there is much else besides, including an opera called The Queen of Sheba (one of eight operas he wrote), chamber and instrumental music, and a wonderful violin concerto, which has been recorded by many great soloists.

Goldmark's humble Jewish background was vaguely similar to that of Gustav Mahler, though unlike his younger colleague who predeceased him in 1911, Goldmark remained a practising Jew his whole life. He was born in Hungary in 1830, one of more than 20 children of a poor chazan and town clerk. Soon the family relocated to the famous yeshiva town of DeutschKreutz on the eastern border.

When he was a boy, at a wedding party, Goldmark noticed that drinking-glasses produced different notes depending on how much liquid was in them. He laid them out in a row and astounded all present by playing tunes on the glasses with a stick. Goldmark says in his autobiography: ''At this time I had never heard a note of proper music.'' Soon afterwards, one Sunday morning, he lay down in a field behind his house and listened to the church bells in the distance. Goldmark writes: "When the bells ceased, suddenly the organ roared with power. As it became gentle, four voices joined it and there followed a stream of sweet, soft harmonies. For the first time, I had felt the astonishing power of music."

Perhaps the most astounding fact is that this extraordinary young man did not learn to read and write until he was 12, yet by the time he was 17, he had qualified for entry into both Vienna's Technical College and the Conservatoire of Music.

Despite hardships and interruptions to his studies, Goldmark found work as a teacher (Sibelius was one of his pupils) and as a violinist in Viennese theatres. And of course he composed. In 1858, with backing from a patron, Goldmark organised a concert of his own music performed by the orchestra of the Court opera, no less.

From 1860, he lived in Vienna. He received a modest government grant, continued to teach and became a music journalist. His music began to be performed and Goldmark's name spread. He formed friendships with the greatest figures of the day including Liszt, Rubinstein, Joachim, the critic Hanslick, and went on holidays with Brahms, though this friendship soured.

Goldmark's best-known works all date from the mid-1870s. The Queen of Sheba premiered in 1875 in Vienna, and catapulted him to national fame in his homeland. Mahler, Richard Strauss and Bruno Walter all conducted it and the piece remained in the Vienna State Opera repertoire until 1938, when the Nazis banned it.

In 1876, the famous Rustic Wedding Symphony appeared - a delightful orchestral suite packed with good tunes. Then came the Violin Concerto, a tremendous work which has returned to the international repertoire over the past 20 years or so.

By his mid-fifties, Goldmark was listed second only to Liszt in the Hungarian national encyclopedia of music but, after his death, it was a different story. Rising antisemitism caused Goldmark's name to disappear from the musical consciousness for decades. Perhaps now, in this, his centenary year, his name and more of his hugely enjoyable music can begin to regain their fame and popularity.