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This is a great city for outdoor concerts and similar events. Every summer it's a joy to get out there amidst the heat and humidity, traffic and crowds (swarms of mosquitos at night), and get our "fair share of abuse" at an outdoor concert. Since my wife and I take a delightful interest in the inevitably absurd (possessing a Voltaire-like appreciation for it) we frequently attend such al fresco spectacles; besides, our love for music borders on the insane. Hence, we pack-up some wine, cheese, crackers and tranquilizers and eagerly drive towards our particular destination.

The New York Philharmonic opened its free Concert in the Parks series in Prospect Park (Brooklyn) the other night; they perform in each of the five boroughs during the course of each summer. Despite the ever-present threat of storms looming on the horizon (which, of course, added even more heat and humidity to the scene) thousands of people showed-up for the free concert. Here we all were, in the Park's fields, looking casual and comfortable (outwardly, at least) and sprawled-out on the grass partaking of our trendy refreshments.

To give the surroundings a festive look, the Philharmonic decided to adorn it with multi-colored balloons...which were very lovely but blocked most views of the stage; which, in turn, was flanked by towers of speakers/amps and an array of seemingly purposeless tents. Not that there was much to see from where we were sitting anyway (to the back and out there from beyond somewhere). With people going to-and-fro to our left and people getting-up and getting-down to our right, and the bulk of the aforementioned lurking in front of us, we settled on looking at the balloons.

The Philharmonic opened the concert with Berlioz' "Le Corsaire Overture" which came through beautifully...loud and clear pass the usual limitations of tinny, muffled-edged outdoor sound systems. Conductor Ludovic Morlot may have been so concerned with his opening piece that when he came to his next offering, Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto, everything seemed to verge on the uninspired...the Concerto itself being somewhat tacky. Soloist Stefan Jackiw, however, maintained a profound intent throughout the lacklustre accompaniment, but both soloist and orchestra seemed to reach a spirit of harmony by the Concerto's conclusion.

Within the quiet glow of candles and ancient lampposts (even a blurry moon that would intermittently peek through) the concert closed with the highlight of the evening: Tchaikovsky's Sixth Symphony (the "Pathetique"). The Philharmonic, after the short intermission, seemed better adjusted and handled this unevenly loud and somewhat boastful work with a subdued but appropriate orchestration. Surprisingly, with only a few gadflies here and there to break the mood (cellphone addicts and related thorns in life) there was a respectful silence as the Symphony came to its famously sudden and whimpering end.

The festivities were topped-off with a fireworks display that caught everyone's interest (including those who had fallen asleep). With infinite patterns of reds, whites and blues bursting through the darkness we made our way home; a sulphur-laced mist reverberating with explosive heat, following us toward the parking lot. It was a very enjoyable evening after all; our "fair share of abuse" was only based on sarcastic discontent and pessimistic theory...but I'm likely to reconsider that.