What was absent from the production may be what made it so uniformly interesting. The lack of a multi-movement tutu-ed piece was not missed; in fact, the least exciting piece was the first of the show, the standard and predictable classic ballet interpretation of Handel's "Air." Pretty but not memorable, "Air" was a light, short piece, echoing the title in its weightlessness.

If the show opened with the traditional and trivial, the following piece, "Triptych", could not have inhabited a space more different than the floating, flowing choreography of "Air." Immediately the audience was told that "Triptych" would not be a classically beautiful piece. On a blank curtain drawn over the stage, a projected remark of Danny Grossman, the choreographer, warns the audience that "the expressionistic music of Darius Milaud sets the stage for the three desolate characters," and what follows is a choreographed portrait of desolation. Three isolated dancers, emotionally portrayed by Brian Harrington, Deseree Wiltshire and Taylor Garrabrant, inhabit different areas of the dimly lit stage and through the course of the piece writhe, crawl, reach out, and peal their forms out of the confines of the suits in which they live but seem disgusted. With simple and base emotions reminiscent of a Godard film, desolation is not presented through traditional dance, but through isolated and deliberate movement and expression.

The lighting and costumes for "Triptych" helped create the prison that the dancers suffered in, and those two technical elements affected the world of "Trio from Ecce Homo (Behold the Man)." Also choreographed by Grossman, this piece was not inspired by music, but by the "religious paintings and sculptures of Michelangelo," and this feeling of the perfect beauty of the Renaissance was immediately created by the wash of warm lights on the bare stage. Three figures, playfully inhabited by Kristy Engel, Emily Roberts and Tarah Grant, wiggled, posed, glided and angularly moved in layering patterns across the rosy stage.

"Aureole" the first piece in the second half of the production, offered an experience of dance that one usually does not get to witness, the physical interaction between music and dancer. For this piece, Brian Harrington, a dancer in the company, accompanied a solo dancer with his violin on stage performing a piece he composed. It was fascinating to watch Harrington as he followed the lead of the solo dancer, and remarkable to see the music that is so influential on any choreographed piece achieve a more palpable character by having its creator physically on the stage.

Epiphany and Rime" had similarly interesting musical choices, featuring several selections of vocal and cello music by Bobby McFerrin and YoYo Ma. Shifting from serenely beautiful, rhythmically bluesy and frenetic staccato, the dance went through many moods in a short period of time. Ann Burnell, Gina Sanzone and Deseree Wiltshire were lead dancers in this piece featuring elegant choreography and the unexpected floating beauty of silk fabric ornamenting the scene.

While these pieces were stunning and engaging, the most entertaining, amusing and unusual pieces in Dance Adelphi came at the close of each half. "The Followings", a premier performance that closed the first part of the program featured a variety of music, from Paul Misraki to Badawi to Tom Waits, but began not with music but with a voice-over. A female voice with a French accent begins speaking in the first person, though it is unclear exactly whose words are being spoken as the only thing on stage is a sofa. It takes a moment to realize that the voice is indeed from that piece of furniture in the spotlight. What unfolds in "The Followings" is the story of a man and a woman in reality, and the role this sofa has played in their relationship, and the man's relationship with other women. Throughout the many movements of the piece, the sofa is dripping with people, or completely empty, being sat upon, balanced upon, turned upside-down and on its side, it becomes the living embodiment of the voice at the beginning. While the sofa is a fascinating character in the piece, the dancers created a magical world to match the fantasy of the speaking sofa. Khalil Munir and Dana Johnson had many dynamic moments together in dance in the piece, but perhaps the most unusually exciting element in "The Followings" was Munir's solo dance. After a monologue about his love of well-worn tap-shoes, he dons a pair, steps up on a square board, and proceeds with the kind of soulful, engaging hoofing not found in past Dance Adelphi repertoires. After Munir's solo tapping, the other members of the company reemerge and dance to the music created by his dancing, creating an amazing moment in the marriage of dance and music.

This embracing of the humor and diverse styles of dancing was echoed in the final piece of the program, "Folk Dance For the Future," set to traditional Irish mouth music, "a form of singing developed by communities that could not afford instruments," where human voices imitate bagpipes, fiddles, and accordions. The choreography was inspired by traditional Irish step dancing and employed many features of the genre, including circle dancing, quick passes and dancing in pairs. However traditional this number may have seemed, the choreographer also worked to make it a humorous piece as well, even bringing out plastic babies to dance with couples. The running joke in this piece was the ridiculously fast and showy footwork of other traditional Irish dances, which was carried through with flailing hilarity by Emily Roberts, who would solemnly walk across the stage and begin jerking about, which she did several times, until finally, the entire company joined in with her spastic dancing.

What made Dance Adelphi engaging was the incorporation of themes and ideas that generally are not featured in dance productions. What made Dance Adelphi exciting was the challenging and interesting music and emotions woven throughout the pieces. What made Dance Adelphi charming was its refusal, even in the face of some serious music and choreography, to be taken too seriously, but embrace both its beauty and depth, and its humor.