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Dance Review

Kaleidoscope of Introspection, Joy and Pastoral Tranquility

In 1988, Mark Morris was given the break most choreographers only dream of: a three-year residency at the Théâtre Royal de la Monnaie in Brussels, where money and resources flowed like water. He could choreograph his heart out, and he did, creating one of those rare, euphoric dances that make life worth living.

Celebrating its anniversary at Lincoln Center’s White Light Festival, “L’Allegro, il Penseroso ed il Moderato,” which Mr. Morris first presented 25 years ago to the day on Saturday, is set to Handel’s 1740 oratorio and takes its text from Milton’s pastoral poems “L’Allegro” (the cheerful, happy man) and “Il Penseroso” (the thoughtful, pensive man). The two-act production, performed by his company on Thursday and conducted with zeal by Nicholas McGegan, glides through 32 dance sequences that shift in setting from the countryside, where it’s fine to wander by “hedgerow elms, on hillocks green,” to the “populous cities.”

Framed by Adrianne Lobel’s deceptively simple set, a series of moving color planes that allude to the poetic language without being literal and that give the stage depth and distance or enclose it like a zooming lens, the dance has a pulse that extends past its choreographic spine. Just as the poems snap between action and thought, Ms. Lobel’s colors, glowing under James F. Ingalls’s lighting, saturate the stage with joy or invoke melancholy so that nothing about “L’Allegro” is in isolation.

Rather, harmony is everywhere, from the many moments of symmetry — a dancer in the foreground is mirrored by another behind a scrim — to the shapes themselves, in which shoulders and hands may appear to be hovering in a state of velvety relaxation, but are precisely controlled. Dancers become a breeze of bodies; dipping a shoulder down, they run on edges to give the stage a sense of air and resistance.

There are ghosts in “L’Allegro” — the ancient Greeks, Isadora Duncan — but what gives it soul is the dancers’ modern sensuality. The tiny, fearless Lauren Grant, often front and center, floats through brisk little jumps without a care in the world, clicking her heels and bouncing higher than the others before sprinting away wildly.

In his bird dance, Dallas McMurray — the Allegro lark — darts his head with clipped curiosity, hopping on one foot and then the other as his arms carve behind his back like wings. He’s so innocent in his solitude that you want to make a nest with your hands to protect him from the ensemble — a real flock this time — that sends him flitting offstage into the wings.

And as the melancholy nightingale lured to the wandering moon, Maile Okamura is unsurpassed. Her delicate bone structure lends her avian grace — her arms are feather-light — as her feet skitter backward with such demon speed that she nearly floats.

The brazen beauty of the ensemble sections is another kind of irresistible, especially during the walking dance, which knits simple steps into kaleidoscopic patterns, and during the work’s enchanting finale, in which dancers run toward the edge of the stage and splinter off before forming three circles. In the center are three women, a flashback to an early scene featuring the Three Graces; as the stage pulsates with swirling bodies, it is this center where “the hidden soul of harmony” lies. “L’Allegro” is Mr. Morris unfiltered.

The Mark Morris Dance Group performs through Saturday at the David. H. Koch Theater, Lincoln Center; 212-721-6500, whitelightfestival.org.

A version of this article appears in print on  , Section C, Page 7 of the New York edition with the headline: Kaleidoscope of Introspection, Joy and Pastoral Tranquility. Order Reprints | Today’s Paper | Subscribe

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