Elisa Monte Dance Company.

Though sleekly assured in its dancing, the Elisa Monte Dance Company lacks individuality in its dances. The company seems to depend on eclecticism, but also carries it as a sort of burden. The dancers, thoroughly trained, are robust in their energy and well-rounded in their abilities - precise in the way of ballet dancers, at home like modern dancers with weight and the ground, and also rhythmically persuasive. Still, the eclecticism of the repertoire crosses borders between genres with enough ease that something gets lost. Maybe the dancers need to be challenged differently, not by symmetry but by surprises. Or maybe what they do now is more than enough: Audiences enjoy it.

Eclectic in Monte's case means that her dances - and those of David A. Brown, the company's associate director and occasionally Monte's choreographic collaborator - indirectly honor Alvin Ailey, Pilobolus, and some of the Joffrey's signature works, among others. This shows good taste. But there is sometimes not enough new signature imprinted on the new dances. Monte's work is too loyal to other styles.

Music may pose part of the problem; Monte's choices can be uninspired. In Diamond Song (1993), an American premiere, the soul-struck grandeur and trembling wistfulness of Henryk Gorecki's score can only be oppressive. The ruddy physicality and control of the dancers, despite their experience and talent, can't overcome the ponderousness of the music. A minor misfortune is the inclusion of an epigraph from Plato: "Man is declared to be that creature who is constantly in search of himself ... [He is] a being in search of meaning." The epigraph sets the mood and scene. But the dance's passages of rapturous walking, unspecified griefs, and determined symmetries don't live up to it.

In Monte's dances, women often serve as the main expressive instruments. The company is fortunate in its women: They are supple and powerful, particularly Emmanuele Phuon, who danced in every piece but one, frequently as a soloist. Not only is Phuon strong, but she is also subtle, balancing exuberant physicality with a quality of innerness. Her subtleties could be further refined and cultivated.

Lighting is another strong suit of the company. Craig Miller, associated with the troupe since 1983, helps to expose a communal vigor directly and dramatically. This was true in large group pieces, like Brown's Mandeville ... La Vie Continue (1993), and also in a brief new duet co-choreographed by Brown and Monte.

The duet, Vejle/Border Crossing, danced by Christian Canciani and Ted Thomas to music by Puccini, was reminiscent of Pilobolus. The two men maintained close contact throughout, like moseying wrestlers or ecstatic sidekicks. They gripped each other, struck and held unexpected or perilous balances, and seemed to use dance as a metaphor for love and perseverance. The performance was zealous. But because the choreographer took fewer gymnastic risks than Pilobolus does, and because the density of formal invention seemed diminished, the duet was less rich than it could have been.

The best piece was Audentity (1987). Here Monte made room for asymmetry and filled the dancing with details, using the body in profile, occupying the feet with quick and interesting moves, and still calling on whole-body flexibility and dynamic fluidity.