Pilobolus finished off the Duncan Theatre’s 25th anniversary season in a way that few dance companies can.

Engaging and satisfying on so many levels, one can clearly sense the unique creative force required to present such a satisfying program. The company functions as a collective, collaborating to create the works that are performed, and you can feel the hours they spend in the studio interactively improvising together.

The company is seven strong, with six dancers appearing onstage at a time. All seven dancers were outstanding. As they intertwined and connected in extraordinary ways, one could not tell which dancer was which and indeed, it seemed as if that was not important. It was more important to see them as shapes and forms not as individuals; a true collective.

The company was founded by four male gymnasts from Dartmouth College who were later joined by two females. This combination of four men and two women has been the trademark for over 40 years and nearly all the works are created for six dancers. But what is truly amazing that those dancers in 1970 established a creative environment that was ground breaking in its day and, despite the turnover of dance artists as the years passed, the company stayed true to its creative mission and process.

Now, all these decades later, the company not only survived the years but thrived brilliantly. Today, they collaborate with a wide variety of outside people and their playful imagery is just as engaging and inventive as ever. In the 2007 Academy Awards, the company performed silhouetted behind a white screen, creating with their bodies memorable scenes and logos for various movies as well as the famous Oscar statue.

The company performed five works on the program at the Duncan Theatre on March 23 and 24. Sextet 2012, the newest work and wisely the first on the program, was flat and disappointing, with the exception of a mesmerizing duet with a white ball. The dancers maintained close contact, rolling the ball from one body part to another as they caressed and lifted each other and scattering images of a protected entity, an egg or an embryo, whose care held them together.

All Is Not Lost (2011) was a visual plethora. This was an inventive and delightful work that incorporated dancers’ movement with video images projected on a large onstage screen from an onstage video camera shooting up from under a transparent platform from which the dancers moved over, under and around. The delightful images of swimming amoebas and of a marvelous human kaleidoscope were gently humorous. It was short, it was clever, and it left one hungry for more.

Korokoro (2011) which means “rolling” in Japanese, was a recent collaboration with these company dancers and choreographer Takuya Muramatsu. And indeed it started with a lot of rolling -- bare-butted rolling -- but it wasn’t until the duets started that the work began to gel. Here the dancers became more like humans, more upright. The stark, colorless staging was reversed as the group was drenched in slowly changing color projections and the sound of single piano notes seemed like heartbeats.

As a group they seemed to be moved by outside forces as they were pulled from side to side with staccato movement. The color disappeared as they fell to the floor and reemerged tall on the shoulders of one and other as Homo erectus.

Seraph (2010), set to a Schubert piano trio movement, is a deceivingly simple work but is extremely high-tech. Matt Del Rosario encounters an object shaped like a cross on the floor. As lights blink on the object, he responds by communicating with a flashlight. The object is a “quadroter,” which takes to the air and “dances” around Del Rosario.

Created in collaboration with the MIT Distributed Robotics Laboratory, the work has a fable-like quality as man and machine bond. Humor is interjected as a second and “jealous” flying robot entered, complete with flashing red lights chasing the man off stage. Then, there was a moment where the two robots do a duet alone onstage flying through the air -- a mesmerizing “dance” even though there were no dancers onstage.

The complicated maneuverings of the flying robots were mastered by of two dancers, Shawn Fitzgerald Ahern and Jun Kuribayashi, who controlled them from off stage. Talk about thinking outside the box!

Day Two, a classic Pilobolus work, finished the program. This timeless work is just as memorable as it was when it was first presented in 1980, and it has become a signature piece for the company. It was choreographed by the company members of that time and was directed by founding member Moses Pendleton, who went on to form the equally inventive dance company Momix.

The title refers to the second day of the creation of the world, and the dancers transformed as they enacted the earliest forms of life through to evolution of sexuality in animals and man. The juxtaposition of images of archaic life forms with the still thoroughly contemporary soundtrack of Brian Eno and Talking Heads was terrific, not to mention the ending, where the dancers burst out from under the dance floor and did their entertaining “slip-and-slide” bows in water.

The Miami City Ballet’s performance of Giselle Sunday afternoon at the Kravis Center proved to be an ecstatic rendering of Adolphe Adam’s classic Romantic ballet.

Tricia Albertson gave a lovely nuanced and technically sound performance as the young peasant girl betrayed by Albrecht, a cad of an aristo, danced by Renan Cerdeiro, just prior to his marriage to a noblewoman.

Adapted and restaged by departing artistic director Edward Villella, the production took over the Kravis Center stage as if it were a 19^th-century oil painting brought to life. The curtain rose on an exquisite set with a cutout forest creating a three-dimensional arbor surrounding the stage.

A great Disneyesque castle hovered in the distance and two small wooden shacks ­-- one the home of Giselle and her mother, the other holding the evidence that would bring down Albrecht. Pergolas entwined with grapevines filled in the foreground where a bucolic landscape reminded one of the path to the Emerald City. (Both scenery and props were courtesy of American Ballet Theatre.)

The tragic two-act story of Giselle is quite simple, and in its simplicity, endearing. The young Giselle, an impressionable maid with a bad heart, falls for a man carrying out a final dalliance before entering into a proper, sanctioned marriage. Disguised as a peasant, he woos the maid, who falls helplessly in love.

When Albrecht’s deception is uncovered by the gamekeeper Hilarion, who is truly in love with Giselle, the girl goes crazy and dances her way into madness and death.

(One misstep on Albertson’s part was her pulling out her bun to illustrate her mental state. The action was too obvious and took away from an overall excellent performance.)

We are thrust into a dark and dismal forest in Giselle’s second act, which could be retitled “The Dancing Dead.” Giselle rises from the grave and saves Albrecht from the Wilis, a cadre of female spirits who have died before their wedding day hell-bent on exacting revenge on any man they encounter by forcing him to dance to his death.

Albertson was fey and original in her portrayal of Giselle. Her delicate movements, fragility and wispy leaps and hops were beautifully executed. Cerdeiro as Albrecht was a worthy partner whose leaps and bounding enthusiasm were pitch-perfect.

Callie Manning, debuting as Myrtha, queen of the Wilis, was extraordinary. She danced with such commitment -- ramrod straight with gossamer arms and an ephemeral otherworldliness -- commanding the band of man-hating furies.

Renato Penteado as Hilarion was a little over the top in his acting but did a serviceable job as Giselle’s lovelorn suitor. The corps de ballet danced as one in the second act, and brought energy and excitement to the scenes of revelry in the first.

Attending the performance made one anticipate Miami City Ballet’s next staging of a classic – Leo Delibes’ Coppelia -- which will be at the Kravis Center from April 13-15.

The Paul Taylor Dance Company graced the stage of the Duncan Theatre on Friday night, presenting three works from one of the nation’s best and most prolific choreographer. Fortunately for us, the company was able to fill in for the Aspen Santa Fe Ballet, which was unable to make it here for the Duncan Theatre’s 25th anniversary season.

Paul Taylor (b. 1930) has choreographed over 130 dances in his career and is recognized the world over for a collection of works that run the gamut. Taylor has explored a vast array of themes and topics in his choreography. Some are funny, some are controversial, but all are chock-filled with original and highly physical movement that is still a clearly recognizable vocabulary. He is often described as “the last living member of the pantheon that is responsible for the creation of modern dance in America,” and remains one of the most creative and important choreographers today.

The first dance performed this evening was Brandenburgs, choreographed in 1988 to three movements of two of the Brandenburg Concertos of J.S. Bach. This ensemble work highlighted the always evident musicality of Taylor’s dances as well as his trademark athletic movement style. A quintet of men was the framing energy of the work, which introduced three female soloists in a whirl of classic Taylor movement – strong, shaped arms held with quiet elegance over an endless trail of quick footwork.

Eran Bugge was a standout with her dynamic movement initiation and sheer joy of movement. The somewhat ragged quintet of men with their raw energy and undefined lines was countered with clarity of soloist Michael Trusnovec, whose completely different but still very masculine persona created a magnetic aura onstage with gentle intensity. The heart of the dance was the beautiful quartet with Trusnovec and the three women, which evolved into three distinctive solos where each woman danced to the watching Trusnovec.

Laura Halzack was fun and lively in her solo with her very fast footwork. Bugge was flirtatious and engaging and Amy Young was elegant. Then, alone onstage, Trusnovec danced bare-chested under a spotlight. His natural physicality together with his sensual musicality made the movement so rich and intricate but at the same time so simple and natural. During the many ensemble sections, the same movement was continually repeated, perhaps too much, but its familiarity wove the piece together and defined the floor patterns as if they were being painted on the stage.

The following work, Arabesque, which was first performed in 1999, was set to music by Claude Debussy. On all three pieces in the program, Taylor worked with longtime collaborators costume designer Santo Loquasto and lighting designer Jennifer Tipton. In Arabesque, Loquasto’s mythical ivory costumes and Tipton’s gold-hued lights together with Taylor’s gestures and poses gave a divergent view into classical mythology’s nymphs and centaurs.

There was an unexpected nastiness and agitation in the choreography underlying the calmness that the music created. Many quick steps filled in between the notes. It was if we were seeing a hint of an unsightly side of some of the myths. The Syrinx, beautifully danced by Laura Halzack, vacillated from the elegant stature of a goddess to a tormented type of animal.

The theme of the unsightly side of human nature continued in the final work Piazzolla Caldera, which used the music of Argentina’s Astor Piazzolla. It has been one of Taylor’s most popular works since it was created in 1997. Literally translated it would mean a cauldron of Piazzola; a cauldron of tangos. The title alone is a strong image. Tipton achieved a stunning visual effect in her lighting design with its smoke-filled, red drenched stage with its dark undertones. The somewhat seedy mood was further enhanced by Loquasto’s costumes of flowered dresses and bared stocking tops for the women and undershirts and suspenders for the men.

It was a red-tinged sepia photograph of the underbelly of the nightlife surrounding tango clubs. The ambiguous sexual overtones were set immediately with the seven men and five women who pair off changing partners frequently. There were locked foreheads, locked legs and aggression in sexual pairing, some of it homoerotic. Taylor’s choreography didn’t lose us for a moment. All the dancers gave very strong performances.

Parisa Khobdeh was gripping as the woman who searched to have her desire fulfilled by a man but is rejected by them all. A little comic relief came with the drunken duet between Michael Apuzzo and Francisco Granciano, who took a side line and watched the elegant mover Halzack being partnered by the excellent Trusnovec. The two are beautifully matched in clarity as dancers and in intensity as performers.

The theme of sexual laxity returned as the two duets merge into a menage a quatre. The final ensemble section was rousing and filled with original movement. All this without a single real tango step in the choreography; a tango without a tango. That is what makes Piazzolla Caldera so original and truly resound. It is the work of a master exploring yet another world on his long and fruitful journey as a choreographer.

There will be several premieres at the company’s Lincoln Center performances in March, so we can be assured that Taylor, even at age 81, continues to create and to astonish.

The Paul Taylor Dance Company repeats this show tonight at 8 p.m. at the Duncan Theatre on the campus of Palm Beach State College in Lake Worth. Tickets are $37. Call 868-3309 or visit www.duncantheatre.org.

Luna Negra Dance Theater is a contemporary dance company from Chicago that is making a name for itself by exclusively presenting the works of acclaimed contemporary Latino choreographers.

The works are bold departures from traditional Latino folkloric themes and together with the talent of the 10 dancers in the company, a very dynamic synergy has been created. This creative mix was evident in the program the company presented Friday night at the Duncan Theatre.

The first work, Sola Una Vez ,choreographed by Luis Eduardo Sayago, was an exploration of men looking for their perfect soulmate. The beginning setup was mostly theater as three men contemplated their idea of the perfect female. This included writing on a white board a list of necessary traits she must possess, as well as cutting oranges in half. A lackluster beginning.

After a while, three women in white dresses entered and the energy improved. The choreography began to define itself as each man chose a woman. Three duets ensued that were all set to a series of Latin American bolero songs. Joseph Kudra discovered Kristen Shelton in a strong duet. The movement vocabulary of sliding and strong initiation impulses satisfyingly filled the stage. The partnering movement vocabulary in the duet looked authentic and exciting.

This continued in the more combative and manipulative duet of Veronica Guadalupe and Eugene Peabody as they defined their relationship, which ended in a somewhat defiant stare. Stacey Aung and Nigel Campbell were beautiful in their duet, moving in unison with such clarity, and with such awareness of each other’s smallest nuance. It reflected the enviable togetherness of true soulmates.

The last section, danced by the three couples to the traditional wedding march by Mendelssohn, was strangely disappointing. The juxtaposition of the extremely familiar wedding processional music together with repetitious movement and uninspired choreography in this final sextet was just unfulfilling. Was the point that their marriages were unfulfilling?

The next work, Naked Ape, was created in collaboration with choreographer Fernando Hernando Magadan and multimedia artist Harman Streetman. It explores, according to the program note, how the human capacity and need for physical interaction may be challenged by the insensitivity of new media and technology. The work was engaging most of the time with some memorable moments.

Visually, it was strong. Glowing, translucent sculptures of white suited torsos littered the stage. A quartet of naked-looking dancers, who actually were dressed in white undergarments, stood motionless. Robots? Humans? A curious wreckage, that Eduardo Zuniga, dressed in a dark suit, controlled by inserting his hand into a full-sized upright torso. The score was a fascinating fusion of Bach trying to be heard through some heavy “white noise” and urban sounds. Zuniga spoke in a gibberish language explaining and demonstrating his knowledge and power over the dancers. Without understanding a word he was saying, his “explanations,” especially those of body parts, were both funny and distressing.

Monica Cervantes and Nigel Campbell danced together in an engaging duet where the sound score almost sounded like urban animals. A second stunning duet followed danced by Aung and Kudra. Their action/reaction partnering was amazingly seamless. A lasting visual toward the end of this work was Cervantes slowly moving up the diagonal as Zuniga, still in his dark suit, hovered on the floor, sniffing at her like an adoring animal. It was a change of roles, and a powerful moment.

The last work presented was Flabbergast, choreographed by Gustavo Ramirez Sansano, the new artistic director of Luna Negra Dance Theater. Created in 2001 and set to music by Juan Garcia Esquivel, this ensemble work for all 20 dancers in the company was a throw back to post-war Madrid in the early 1950s. It is designed, again according to the program note, to be a choreographic exposé of one’s stereotypes and preconceived ideas about new and foreign places. Hence, there were suitcases.

However, if the note wasn’t in the program and there were no suitcases, this would not have been evident. There was a charming Hollywood movie quality to the dance with smiles, songs, puckered lips, tiffs over the same boyfriend, flirting between muchachas and muchachos, conga lines and cha-cha interspersed with well-danced solos, duets and ensembles that ended as all movies ended in the ‘50s: with a large, flickering THE END on the screen.

The audience was thrilled with the expertise of the dancers throughout the evening's performance but they clearly would have been lost without the notes in the program about each piece of choreography. But even with them, they were still confused, as evident by the grumbling heard after each dance was over. Was it just a challenging program or was there a lack of cohesion in the works?

Lack of comprehension in dance is accepted if one feels there is cohesion, balance and purpose in the work. Many sections had this but they did not add up to a feeling of completeness, a sense of a whole. Still, there is a strong sense of artistry and purpose in the company and its mission. That is evident.

Luna Negra Dance Theater is a company to discover, to reflect upon and to look forward to seeing again because of its inherent talent and promise.

Luna Negra Dance Theater repeats this show tonight at 8 at the Duncan Theatre on the campus of Palm Beach State College in Lake Worth. Tickets are $37. Call 868-3309 or visit www.duncantheatre.org.

Edward Villella is getting a tremendous sendoff as he eases out of his role as artistic director of the Miami City Ballet, the company he founded 26 years ago.

And the rest of us? We get to revel in his company’s brilliant success.

A packed house Saturday at the Kravis Center was treated to one of the world-premiere performances of Viscera, a piece created especially for the company by Liam Scarlett, a 25-year-old choreographing sensation from England’s Royal Ballet.

And what a great work it is. Villella, who commissioned it, may have discovered another Balanchine, Ashton or MacMillan.

Scarlett chose the First Piano Concerto of the contemporary American composer Lowell Liebermann for his music, and it’s an excellent choice. From the start, the dance captivates. What we see are beautiful, athletic bodies ready to dance. The women’s costumes were backless one-piece “swim” suits in hues of plum, red and navy. The men wore deep plum T-shirts and very short, tight-fitting boxer briefs of the same color.

The effect was to show off the lovely legs and backs of the women and the men’s muscular soccer-player thighs. Every costume was designed by the young choreographer for the look of fitness and ease of movement.

Viscera uses the dancers well. Its subtle changes in the makeup of each group are intriguing: first, two men, then three women, the corps, then a series of solos danced by the bubbly, energetic Jeanette Delgado. Scarlett’s work has all the elements of classical ballet with nods to the modernism what’s now known as the Rambert Dance Company and the like, and reflects what he himself called the “energy, passion, musicality and radiance’’ of Miami City Ballet.

It was the grouping of dancers that I found fresh and original. In many drills the corps de ballet dance with their backs to the audience, repeating flowing arm movements, exposing shoulder blades as they expand and contract. The drama is enhanced when they slowly face the audience. The dancers enjoyed every second of this piece, created especially for them.

The teaming of Delgado as Scarlett’s prima ballerina may have begun a fine pairing tradition; she performed his steps with exemplary technique. Pianist Francisco Renno and the orchestra, led by Gary Sheldon, were excellent.

After the Scarlett came Jerome Robbins’ In The Night. Three couples, the first pair dreamy and innocent; the second, more mature; the third, stormy and combative, enter and dance separately. At the end they waltz on to the stage together, meet and make friends. Using four Chopin nocturnes (night pieces), Robbins has created some clever choreography, with perhaps a few too many lifts. The overall feeling is clear insight into the lives of others through dance.

The first couple, Tricia Albertson and Didier Bramaz, was poetry in motion. The second couple, Cellie Manning and Isanusi Garcia-Rodriguez, was light as a feather, gliding along steadily. The third couple, Katia Carranza and Yann Trividic, was fun personified. Pianist Renno was again brilliant in his playing of the Chopin nocturnes.

Ballet Imperial, Balanchine’s tribute to Marius Petipa, father of classical ballet, ended the evening. Set to Tchaikovsky’s Second Piano Concerto, Renno and the 50-strong orchestra under Sheldon played beautifully once again.

This ballet recreates the time of Russia under the czars, when cities and even small townships had their own dance companies. It has no plot. The intricate line work of the corps de ballet takes shape in many different patterns, and combinations of patterns, that are the stamp and genius of the great Balanchine’s choreography.

Once more the delightful Jeanette Delgado, partnered by Reyneris Reyes, executed a most tricky pas de deux with skill and precision. She reminds one of the young Alicia Markova, bubbling over with the joy of life shown in her dancing. Reyes was the epitome of majesty; his solos were wonderful.

The trio of Tricia Albertson, Renan Cerdeiro and Didier Bramaz were the embodiment of sweetness and light. Albertson is so ethereal, reminding me of the late Merle Park in her quiet beauty. Costumes were white, white, white. And the dazzling tiaras, designed by Maria Morales -- these are czarinas, not peasants -- were magnificent, and even stayed in place.

The finale employs principals and the corps de ballet in an amazing display of leaps, interchanges, entrechats and line work. It dazzled and awed as you studied the total beauty of the ensemble on stage.

This was a memorable night of dance indeed, and Liam Scarlett is a great find.

Rex Hearn founded the Berkshire Opera Company and has covered classical music, dance and opera in South Florida since 1995.