Although it began as a technical nightmare, Jennifer Muller/THE WORKS put on a visually exciting show Friday night in Eisenhower Auditorium.

The show's beginning was delayed a half-hour because the computer that operates music and lighting had somehow lost the program for the first number, Ken Foster, director of the Center for the Performing Arts, explained to the disgruntled audience.

Soon, however, THE WORKS opened the show with Occasional Encounters, an almost theatrical piece, danced with beautiful and interesting movements. The only problem was that the repetitive movements remained beautiful but became much less interesting as the evening proceeded.

The dance began with one man on the stage. As the piano accompaniment continued, other dancers entered. Through their dancing, the characters acted out relationships; some were friends, some lovers and some enemies. Unfortunately, all were contrived. The movements were undermined by repetitive sequences and the characterization marred by cliched situations.

Jennifer Muller's choreography for the piece was the equivalent of wearing the proverbial heart on the sleeve; her dramatic intentions were so clear, even the most naive audience member should have easily been able to recognize them.

Muller did, however, make good use of pauses between dancing for dramatic effect. A dancer would finish performing a fantastic leap or extension, only to indifferently turn away and walk backstage. The ploy had the effect of making Occasional Encounters seem more extemporaneous and heartfelt.

The dancing in Occasional Encounters was technically laudable -- a trend that persisted throughout the evening. In particular, the partnering sequences were the most original and thrilling, using complex and often dangerous positions. Yet the piece ran a little too long with too many conventional love and friendship situations to remain interesting.

Applause for the piece was icily polite.

Where Occasional Encounters proved simplistic, the second work of the evening, Flight of the Predatory Birds was a little more intriguing -- perhaps even confusing. Characters in beige costumes strutted across the stage, sometimes acting like birds, sometimes like people. These characters were contrasted by "everyday people" — a writer, a prostitute, a man eating lunch — who seemed to have little to do with the bird-dancers until later in the piece.

The work centered on a female bird victimized by the cruelty of her peers and, later, by the "normal" characters of the piece. Each seemed to demand some kind of loyalty from her, yet each exhibited some kind of cruelty. Cruelty, in fact, was the dominant motif of the piece. The female dancer was dragged, thrown and beaten by various characters, some of whom she came to for help.

The piece culminates in the female dancer's struggle with a male dancer wearing a black suit. She hides behind others who either hit her or hand her back into the black-suited man's power. In desperation, she knocks the other characters down, who are stunned that she has defended herself. The dance ends with holding the hand of one of the bird-dancers, suggesting perhaps the transcendent power of love.

Emotions played freely across the faces of the dancers as Birds progressed. However the audience, because of the piece's indeterminate focus, was left on the outside of the action looking in.

The third work, City, contrasted the dramatic undertones of the other pieces. The black-clad dancers performed sharp kicks, lifts and turns in a high-energy, exciting style.

Energy was prevalent through the piece, which lasted more than 35 minutes. As they explored different facets of city life, the dancers performed solos, duets and group movement. Technically, they were electrifying.

Costuming was simple and colorful. Or, in the case of Birds, theatrically appropriate. All of the backdrops were beautiful pastel abstractions that contributed significantly to the mood of each piece.

The dancers were exciting. The dances were not.