Now that Mozart’s 2006 yearlong birthday celebration has ended, it’s time to explore some of the composer’s contemporary lesser lights, and nobody is lesser than P.D.Q. Bach, the last and least son of the great Johann Sebastian. On Tuesday evening, Professor Peter Schickele, head of the department of musical pathology at the University of Southern North Dakota at Hoople, led the New York Philharmonic in its first concert of 2007.

How could I resist an evening that began with Fanfare for Fred? The Philharmonic brass and percussion gave a superb reading of this Aaron Coplandish piece, leaving off one beat before the end so the professor could make his trademark entrance from the back of the hall to conduct the final chord. From this point on, the audience was treated — or subjected — to Mr. Schickele’s signature combination of slapstick and sophistication, pratfalls and profundity.

The audience at a P.D.Q. event tends to be much more knowledgeable about music than your average Avery Fisher crowd. During the 1712 Overture, everyone laughed when the percussionists made anemic sounds by popping balloons in lieu of fireworks, but the response to the exaggerated pathos of the string theme representing the sufferings of the masses was much more uproarious. It takes a stylistically aware audience for Mr. Schickele to shine, and he enjoyed one this night. There were several famous instrumentalists, at least two of whom are household names in the classical world, in attendance in my section alone. They appeared to enjoy the merriment immensely.

The professor must have been an Ernie Kovacs fan as a youth, because he not only presented a piece in which the musicians hit themselves on the head, but also paid homage to the great early television comedian by programming one work not by a Bach — Haydn’s Andante cantabile from Quartet No. 8, in a string orchestra version. This music was played every week on the Kovacs show during the Dutch Masters cigar commercial wherein Ernie and the gang dressed as Rembrandt characters (Kovacs — a Hungarian — also programmed a lot of Bartók on the show). The revelatory element was that, in this context, the Haydn sounded at least as ridiculous as all of the other music of the evening, especially after we had heard P.D.Q.’s Minuet Militaire. And it is only a small stretch to compare the Eine Kleine Kiddiemusik to those pieces written for toy instruments by Leopold Mozart.

If anyone ever deserved a healthy dose of iconoclasm, it is Philip Glass. For me, the highlight of the night was the prelude to P.D.Q.’s opera “Einstein on the Fritz,” a colorless, repetitious, irritating work led flawlessly by Philharmonic associate conductor Xian Zhang, with Mr. Schickele at the piano. Other treats included the classic Pervertimento, which increases the natural hilarity of the bagpipes by eliminating the bags, Mr. Schickele’s percussive accompaniment of the orchestra accomplished by dribbling a basketball, and, by far the best performance of the night, the Desecration of the House Overture, which was cancelled because the parts had been lost.

An evening of fun to be sure. But there is so much more. Anyone who has ever heard the professor’s narration of the first movement of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5 will know that the educational value of these exercises is extremely high. The lobby talk at intermission was dominated by boys between the ages of 10 and 15, tremendously excited by the proceedings and comparing ecstatic notes about what pieces they were playing this year in their respective orchestras. If only this enthusiasm could be bottled and stored until they become jaded professionals.

And one more thing I found delightful. The reputedly crusty Philharmonic musicians were beaming from ear to ear throughout.

Schoenberg said that to break the rules of music one must understand them all. P.D.Q. Bach turns this axiom on its head. He breaks all of the rules in order to share with his eager audience a deeper understanding of them.