If antitrust violations could be levied against contemporary composers, then John Adams would surely be under investigation. Of all active American composers, Mr. Adams receives the most important commissions and the niftiest assignments. But he makes a convincing case for monopoly, given his accessible and challenging musical style and his down-to-earth personality.

As the holder of the Richard and Barbara Debs Composer’s Chair at Carnegie Hall, Mr. Adams not only gets much of his own music performed, but also exerts a large influence over programming. Last season, he helped organize the concerts during Zankel Hall’s first fortnight, and this past weekend, he followed it up with a weekend-long festival called “In Your Ear.”

Mr. Adams must be a relatively humble guy, too, since there wasn’t a drop of his music to be heard. But as you might expect from him, from Zankel, and from the title of the series, the offerings were purposefully eclectic: concerts by a tenor saxophonist, a Javanese Gamelan orchestra, an Algerian folk-rock singer, a player of the kamancheh (an Iranian folk instrument), and an electroacoustic-minimalist band. One is inclined to comment,” only in America.” I attended concerts Friday night and Saturday afternoon, but should have spent all weekend at Carnegie, given the quality of the performances.

Friday brought the Paul Dresher Ensemble from the Bay Area, Mr. Adams’s own adopted home. The geographical rapport is not a superficial one, and the music Friday provided the clearest link to Mr. Adams’s own style, conventionally labeled “post-minimalist.” Moreover, the Bay Area has an important, innovative tradition when it comes to contemporary music: Henry Cowell, Harry Partch, and Lou Harrison were all maverick, iconoclastic composers.

But Mr. Dresher is his own creator, and his particularly brand of music based on repetition has a decidedly poppy, often funky vibe. This impression came most naturally during the pieces with electronic instruments, the “Concerto for Violin and Electro-Acoustic Band” and “Double Ikat,” which uses electronic percussion. Honoring his outside-the-box compositional forefathers, he has invented his own instrument, the so-called “quadrachord,” an enormous string instrumented that can produce some exotic overtones (not to mention headaches for instrument movers).

Mr. Dresher’s rhythmic ideas provided a constant stream of engaging ideas, and the interplay of electric and acoustic instruments (particularly the bassoon) provided fresh, invigorating sonorities. In Mr. Dresher’s one work written exclusively for acoustic instruments, “Racer,” his harmonic vocabulary sometimes veered toward the undesirable, unsophisticated style of John Tesh. But the piece possessed a convincing momentum.

Rhythm also emerged as the most memorable musical variable in Saturday afternoon’s concert of Gamelan Galak Tiki, a Gamelan Ensemble from MIT directed by the too-cool clarinetist and composer, Evan Ziporyn, of Bang on a Can fame. The stage and its inhabitants were attractively presented, with traditional garb for the 30-piece “orchestra,” evocative Balinese lanterns, and perfumed lighting. Even the intermittent crying of a small child in the balcony seating added to a certain village effect.

The catchy, clangy sonorities of the ensemble practically overpowered the acoustical environs of little Zankel, and after a while, I became concerned about a ringing in my ears. Medical quibble aside, the intermission-free program provided some fun, pulsing stuff. We heard from two different strains of composers: Balinese natives, and Mr. Ziporyn’s own compositions, which mix in electric guitars, keyboards, and percussion samples. Oddly, it was the Balinese composers who made the most provocative music, precisely because they are more removed from Western influences.

I Wayan Gandera’s “Hujan Mas,” despite having a certain rocking quality with its four-beat patterns, also contained subtle rhythmic shifts that kept the listener guessing. “Semera Wisaya,” composed by the 31-year-old Dewa Ketut Alit, took the complex rhythmic changes one step further, reminding one of the “metric modulations” of Elliot Carter.

Mr. Ziporyn’s two long works dominated the program, attempted to simultaneously fuse and pit traditional instruments with modern American ones. While his music invariably grooved, it did not succeed in presenting any kind of coherent musical argument. “Run Amok,” which should have been about half as long as it was, featured at turns twirling wind instruments, swirling amplified cello lines, electronic cadenzas, and the occasional electric guitar wail. Still, the lasting impression was that we were hearing a Gamelan orchestra with some exotic American spices, not a true partnership.

Nevertheless, the afternoon showcased enthusiastic advocates of a rich musical tradition, even if that tradition seems resistant to hybridization. In fact, maybe that’s a good thing.