Low notes arrive through the ground before they ever reach your ears. You feel them in the legs of the chair and in your sternum, and then the upper voices float up into the eucalyptus overhead, and you understand that nothing prepares a person for a pipe organ at full power outdoors.
The instrument in that pavilion is the largest outdoor pipe organ on earth, built before either world war and still played weekly, which almost nowhere else can claim. Monday evenings through the summer, organists come from around the world for solo recitals on it. Some nights it accompanies a silent film live — a century-old art form resurrected in real time for a lawn full of people who wandered over.
No dress code, no cost, no pretension. Seats fill early, so bring a low chair and a sweater; the surrounding lawn sounds excellent because the organ was built to throw into the canyon.
This city has had this for over a century. Most of the city still has no idea.