Last night was the most gorgeous night, weather-wise, in recent memory. It wasn't humid and overwhelmingly hot, and it didn't rain. It was the perfect night to walk across the park and into the set-up at SummerStage, at 72nd on the east side of Central Park.

Bela Fleck took the stage last night, joined by Malian kora player Toumani Diabate. I'd been waiting a long time to see Fleck perform; growing up, he was a household name. I always heard stories about Bela Fleck & The Flecktones and the music they played, but it wasn't until I was a little bit older that I learned that Fleck was essentially a virtuoso on the banjo -- not an instrument you'd really expect from someone who was world-renowned. Nevertheless, I knew that he was something special and seriously talented. Last night's show only proved my assumptions and assessments true. Fleck and Diabate played a beautiful set in the middle of the twilit night, with Fleck demonstrating how talented he is on banjo and Diabate proving his skill on the kora, two instruments that complemented each other perfectly. The crowd around me was so intent on watching their hands, which is where -- I think -- most people were and should have been focused, seeing each man's fingers fly over the strings effortlessly and weave so many different influences into their traditional folk playing.

Fleck easily bantered with the crowd, too, calling Diabate a "bad-ass" kora player, and telling a lovely story about a woman he met on the plane. He told us how one of the passengers on his flight next to him asked him what he did, and, upon telling her that he was a musician and was playing in Central Park on Monday night, she asked, "oh, are you with Bela Fleck?" And then proceeded to say, "Wait a minute, you are Bela Fleck! I'm coming to your show!" The crowd chuckled at the anecdote, and then all of a sudden a cheer went up -- the woman had stood up in the crowd and was waving happily at Fleck on stage. He laughed and pointed her out. "Oh, there you are! Hello!"

After a happy and rousing performance of "Dueling Banjos," which elicited laughs and claps from the crowd, they stepped off stage and readied the venue for a screening of Throw Down Your Heart, a documentary directed by Sascha Paladino about Fleck in Africa. The film opened beautifully: bright colors and bright sounds as we saw Fleck in the back of a pickup truck in Africa, jamming on his banjo for a following of people. Throw Down Your Heart is a film about Fleck's mission: to find the origins of the banjo and open people's eyes to an entire musical world that they rarely see. "What he wanted was to bring the banjo back to Africa," someone in the film said. And Fleck himself explained: "I thought it was important for people to realise where the banjo comes from. So many people associate it with white, southern music, but the banjo is an African instrument."

Throw Down Your Heart was a joyous and inspiring film to watch, because at the heart of it was this idea: music brings people together and is universal -- no matter where you are, the strains of a banjo can pique your interest and start your toes tapping. It showed the connections between everyone in the world who has ever loved the sound of the instrument, however stereotyped it may be now. Paladino and Fleck managed to make a moving and impressive film, full of care and happiness, and it was a joy to see in the park last night.

Virtuoso Bela Fleck has taken the banjo into the future, mixing elements of jazz and bluegrass into a progressive improvisational style with his band the Flecktones. In 2005 Fleck decided to relive the banjo’s past, collaborating with African folk musicians in a journey to explore the instrument’s roots and experience the musical cultures that had inspired it. Fleck’s sojourn was documented in a film Throw Down Your Heart directed by Sascha Paladino, and last night, Summerstage screened the film with Fleck and master kora player Toumani Diabate jamming beforehand.

Fleck and Toumani Diabate stepped on stage inciting enthusiastic applause as they took their places. Visually, the men made an unlikely pair with Fleck casually dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, and Diabate wearing a fancy dashiki. Both men are masters of their acoustic instruments well known in their own countries. For some Americans, Diabate needs a bit of introduction; he comes from 71 generations of kora players with the instrument taught from father to son. The kora itself is an impressively large instrument: a 21-string harp with a half gourd at the base which sounds like a cross between a harp and a mandolin. Both musicians are known for preserving folk traditions that have faded from popular memory and also for adding improvisational, individual flair.

The duo began the jam slowly and gently, feeling each other out in a call and response reminiscent of dueling banjos. Diabate demonstrated remarkable ability, but his dulcet tones were sometimes drowned out by the loudness of Fleck’s melodic, Celtic influenced banjo. Luckily, the talented Diabate had ample room to shine when he played a few songs solo as the mesmerized crowd looked on. Fleck rejoined Diabate, and the duo continued the jam. At one point, the two men actually played the iconic Earl Scruggs style tune “Dueling Banjos” to the approving fans.

A small African boy running across stage, the unmistakable twang of a banjo, Fleck in the back of a pickup truck with a fascinated legion of African villagers crowding around it: these were the first images that flashed across the projection screen to begin Fleck’s film. In it, Fleck travels from Uganda to Tanzania, from Tanzania to Gambia, and from Gambia to Mali, playing with local musicians along the way from folk artists to pop stars, and from rural villages to sprawling cities. In Uganda Fleck stays in a country village with huts made of mud and straw, jamming with local folk musicians, at one point several villagers play a marimba so large it takes multiple people to play it, striking huge wooden keys with sticks as Fleck’s arpeggios whirl. From the impoverished Uganda, Fleck goes to more prosperous Tanzania collaborating with a group of Massai vocalists whose guttural style provides an interesting compliment to the banjo's sound. In Gambia and Mali, Fleck meets players of the Ngoni and Akonting, close predecessors of his own instrument. Even if Africa had zero relevance to banjo history and American musical history, Throw Down Your Heart would make an excellent film, documenting the collaborative process and exposing some little heard styles of African music. The fact that African instruments, rhythms and sounds lie at the root of so much American music makes the film an even greater achievement.