If you have the sheer cheek to organise a classy outdoor concert in Ireland, it will probably rain: a cruel irony (Alanis Morissette definition) proven once again as a dishearteningly consistent downfall soaked those on the grounds of Kilmainham yesterday evening. Gathered revelers who had taken the opportunity to show up early and watch a support screening of Cinema Paradiso sat there, silently cursing those who had enjoyed more favourable conditions the night before.

Rain also proved to offer some unique obstacles facing those who wanted to follow the story of young Toto - especially down to those who had managed to break the rules and bring their umbrellas into the grounds (and no, I'm not just jealous because the website told me not to bring mine). Could you honestly obscure the screen any more completely, good sir?

Like a perfect musical cue, though, the drizzle ceased almost completely once the maestro himself took to the stage, backed by a 100-strong Orchestra Roma Sinfonietta and equal-sized Dublin Gospel Choir. The rather miserable mood that had been hanging around the venue – the ‘I’m sure this would be really nice if the weather wasn’t dreadful’ Royal Hospital Kilmainham gardens - evaporated. Perhaps the greatest living film composer was in our presence, and from the first note he did not disappoint.

The great Morricone said absolutely nothing over the course of his ninety minute set - those who had hoped to hear some general Italian pleasantries between his conducting activities would have been better off attending the Q&A in the Lighthouse cinema earlier in the day. But the silence was more than acceptable - as clichéd as it sounds, the music really did speak for itself, even when unaccompanied by the beautiful images it was composed for.

Morricone has perhaps the vastest, most diverse discography of any film composer that has ever lived, and the opening act of the performance was dominated by a few slightly lesser-known tracks from his back catalogue - a selection of four or five compositions that are as stirring and masterfully orchestrated as his more iconic fare.

It wasn’t long before the greatest hits are rolled out, and they did not disappoint. Selections from The Good, The Bad and The Ugly, Once Upon in a Time in America and Cinema Paradiso left the audience audibly wowed. The suites were four or five songs long, and the applause after every extended movement was rapturous. It was wholly deserved: already breathtaking compositions like The Ecstasy of Gold were lent that extra layer of almost indescribable oomph when orchestrated live.

The choir, strangely enough, were relatively muted for the majority of the concert, with occasional exceptions like the iconic theme from The Good, The Bad and The Ugly. Yet there presence suddenly made a whole lot of sense during the home stretch. The main set closed with The Mission’s On Earth As It Is In Heaven - building to an astonishingly rich crescendo where the orchestra and choir joined together with genuinely breathtaking force.

A four-song encore - with an enthused standing ovation punctuating each song - saw, in Morricone tradition, a repeat of On Earth... and Ecstasy of Gold, although the maestro took his final bow after a delightful rendition of his Joan Baez collaboration Here’s to You (Nicola and Bart). With its eerie, epic build-up of instrument and voice, there was no better song to utilise the sheer musical force of the 200 people on stage.

There are, no doubt, nitpicks that might have disappointed many attendees, especially given the relatively high ticket price. The weather. The barely perfunctory seating arrangements. The fact that those of us further back in the crowd had to watch predominantly through the big-screens (although the music lost little of its power, and the camera choices were smart). The seemingly unending stream of people filtering along the aisles to urinate and/or purchase beverages (interconnected activities). The aforementioned silence of the star of the show. The lack of the brilliant opening credits song from The Untouchables, despite a couple of songs opening with a rather similar strings and keyboard combo.

No matter. We were privileged to be in the company of a musical and cinematic god, working his magic with a huge team of capable collaborators. Resistance was, in the nicest sense of the phrase, absolutely futile.