The New York Philharmonic has concluded its “Summertime Classics” series, led by Bramwell Tovey, your genial host. Has there ever been a conductor more gifted at talking to an audience? (Even if he does go on occasionally.) When he gabs at you, you are truly in Mother’s arms.

The program on Thursday night was all-Russian, and dubbed, almost inevitably, “Moscow on the Hudson.” (I wonder how long people will remember this 1984 movie.) The concert started with one of the most popular Russian pieces of all, the overture to Glinka’s “Ruslan and Ludmila.”

How do you want this piece? You want it to be fleet, forward-moving, bouncy, merrily furious. And, from Mr. Tovey and the Philharmonic, it largely was — in fact, it wholly was. Syncopation was pronounced, but not overly so. The music was now lush, now nimble. Everything was executed with great clarity.

The orchestra’s playing was infinitely improved over Tuesday night’s concert — a Fourth of July show — and, indeed, I heard no better playing throughout the entire “Summertime Classics” run. Then — because it was Russian Night — Mr. Tovey told a story about the late Mstislav Rostropovich. This was both affectionate and hilarious. Wish you could have heard it (including the accent). In due course, Mr. Tovey got on with one of the most famous pieces in all of music — a piece that, nevertheless, is seldom heard in a concert hall.

I’m speaking of “Peter and the Wolf,” Prokofiev’s charming classic for children (and others), written in the year the Great Terror was launched (1936). “Peter and the Wolf” is in a category all its own, or possibly with Saint-Saëns’s “Carnival of the Animals”: a high-class novelty with legs.

Narrating the work was the actor Kevin Kline, of “A Fish Called Wanda” fame (and married-to-Phoebe-Cates fame). He was somewhat stumbling and casual, when a crisper and straighter approach would have done. Indeed, Maestro Tovey himself would have made an excellent narrator, if he could have managed both chores. But Mr. Kline was ultimately just fine, and likable.

And the Philharmonic’s playing was pretty good, too. Here were the highlights: a smooth and rich clarinet (the Cat); top-notch horn choirs (the Wolf); and a deft oboe (the Duck). One drawback, however, was the strings, which might have played Peter’s music much more smoothly and sweetly.

Perhaps the best part of the entire performance was the hunters’ music, which was fantastically jaunty. And, unless I am mistaken, Mr. Tovey lent the score a touch of jazz — a touch that, in any case, Prokofiev has baked in.

The second half of the program began with a little ballet, the Pas de Deux from Khachaturian’s “Spartacus.” (Hey, wasn’t Khachaturian Armenian rather than Russian? Never mind.) The maestro first said that the principal tune might remind us of “Stormy Weather,” Harold Arlen’s immortal song — and, when it came up, so it did. Members of the audience giggled. And Mr. Tovey led a commendable account of this piece, phrasing — which is to say, breathing — naturally.

I described a performance on an earlier concert as antiseptic and elevatorish. This one could have been, too — but it wasn’t. And the concertmistress, Michelle Kim, played her solo music with considerable taste.

Then we had “In the Steppes of Central Asia,” by Borodin. From Mr. Tovey’s baton, it was both beautiful and sensible (and musicians can forget to be sensible, in the midst of being beautiful). The piece was both “evocative” and “atmospheric,” to use two of the laziest words in a critic’s vocabulary. Those words are apt, however.

To end the printed program was a dose of Tchaikovsky: “Capriccio italien,” the composer’s postcard from Italy, 1880. This was not a perfect performance, but it was plenty respectable, and it was kissed with Italianate sunshine. One specific: Mr. Tovey made very good use of rests, knowing they are a crucial part of the music. One more specific: The orchestra’s trumpets played warmly and invitingly.

Did we get an encore? Of course — another Khachaturian piece, and his greatest hit of all time: the Sabre Dance. How do you want it? Jolting, fast, and exciting. (Also a little cuckoo and whimsical.) From Mr. Tovey et al., it was merely okay, I’m afraid. Our performers may have been out of juice.

By the way: What a great piece of music, the Sabre Dance. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

And if you want to hear the Philharmonic again, you can go to one of the metro area’s parks, where they’ll be playing over the next nine days. Afterward, you can go to Vail, Colorado, where the orchestra will be playing for a week. Or you can wait until Opening Night of the 2007–08 season: September 18. Your soloist will be Yo-Yo.