DANCE: Thoroughly Modern Misha

"I'm a new-work junkie. Even if the dance doesn't turn out to be successful, I adore the process." The speaker is Mikhail Baryshnikov, the greatest dancer of his time, whose interpretations of the classical male roles set the standard for the 1970s and '80s, and probably for a long time to come. In those years the notion of this paradigm of nobility mixing it up with modern dance seemed absurd. But a closer look at the record reveals he was already seeking out alliances with modern choreographers. When Twyla Tharp created Push Comes to Shove for him in 1976, she revealed a whole new Misha: rueful, droll, an outsider trying to get in -- and just as eagerly bursting to get out.

That image has gradually replaced the tragic prince. Four years ago, having quit as artistic director of American Ballet Theatre, Baryshnikov founded the White Oak Dance Project, a small company of experienced dancers -- the youngest current member is 31, the oldest is Baryshnikov, now 46 -- to tour with a variety of modern works. Both the troupe and its honcho have thrived. In 90 cities, it has almost always been a sellout. But until last week, the itinerary had never included New York City.

The Big Apple considers itself the dance capital of the world, and mostly it's a legitimate boast. At some point every company has to take on Manhattan, with its knowledgeable, picky, I've-seen-it-all audiences and its I've-seen-it-all-a-hundred-times critics. A New York season is expensive too. So White Oak was probably wise to wait until it had shaken down and matured -- the troupe now has eight dancers instead of 14 -- before spending nearly $500,000 for a week at Lincoln Center. Any financial anxieties were quickly dispelled; the run was sold out before opening night.

The two programs reflected just how thoroughly modern Misha's enthusiasms are. The dances range from company member Kevin O'Day's first choreography to Signals, an early '70s work by Merce Cunningham that has gone through many versions. In fact, the 75-year-old Cunningham went at it again: new score, new costumes and, as always, moves that fluctuate mesmerically.

Signals is a good example of why White Oak's eclectic programming works -- and may be a harbinger of dance's future. Unlike virtually any other choreographer, Cunningham thinks in terms of neither music nor steps but segments of time. "Given 10 seconds," he says, "the dancer has to define the phrase and accent something within the time." An evening of Cunningham can be bewitching. But it is only when one sees one of his pieces alongside the choreography of others that one appreciates just how different in weight and shape his work really is. Cunningham says he created Signals after observing groupings of chairs in a Paris park: "Sometimes full, sometimes not, people come and go and converse -- only, this time, they dance." A charming dance -- one that might be set in Paris or somewhere in the enchanted ether.