By Orla Swift, Staff Writer

RALEIGH - The trio of dances in Carolina Ballet's “Artistic Expressions” program are as diverse as dance can be: an abstract study of time, a collection of pretty pas de deux and a gut-wrenching reminder of human-rights abuses and their impact on victim and community alike.

But in an odd way, they fit together perfectly. Timour Bourtasenkov's “Dances for Piano & Violin” celebrates romance and the pleasure of human interaction.

Resident guest choreographer Lynne Taylor-Corbett's “Code of Silence” shows the pain of losing those bonds and the dark side of human nature. And Robert Weiss' “Time Gallery” illustrates the way that in times of joy or pain, time has a way of stretching or contracting.

All three ballets were created at UNC-Wilmington, where the company does a summer residency. They premiered there in August, but Thursday's opening night at Memorial Auditorium showed that they've been changed and polished since then.

“Code of Silence” is nothing short of a masterpiece – one that fans will be talking about years later, as they do with Taylor-Corbett's contemporary take on “Carmina Burana” and her 9/11 memorial “Lost and Found.”

Set to Estonian composer Arvo Pärt's haunting, minimalist “Tabula Rasa,” the ballet begins with images of imprisonment, torture, death, disbelief and large-scale havoc. It could be anywhere in the world, or any time, as Amnesty International – the human rights organization that inspired the work – can attest.

Taylor-Corbett underscores that universality with echoing images, such as when Gabor Kapin and Margaret Severin-Hansen kneel face to face and four men kneel in a line behind Kapin.

Gestures repeated but altered slightly throughout the dance also suggest the story's recurrence through the ages. And her choreographic counterpoints to the music – a dancer sprinting madly through a calm passage, for instance – remind us that while peace may prevail in our community or in our hearts, turmoil is always erupting somewhere.

But “Code” isn't all dour. It's also a moving tribute to the resilience of human bonds, to the enduring comfort of fond memories, and to the power of compassion and community to overcome trauma and tyranny.

Bourtasenkov, normally the company's principal dancer, shows an inventive flair as a choreographer with “Dances,” set to Tchaikovsky. But it's often at the expense of overall structure and flow. It's as if he plugs in a hardware store's worth of power tools when sometimes a screwdriver would have served him best.

His pas de deux showcase several ensemble members who get few center-stage opportunities, and they rise to the occasion.

Weiss' “Time Gallery” is best seen after reading composer Paul Moravec's program notes about how the music reflects the evolution of time-keeping.

Then in the dance – and in the sets, costumes and lighting – you'll see the simplicity of Benedictine monks, the glow of sunrise and sunset, hints of sundials, the varied rhythms of blood pumping through veins, the seemingly infinite stretch of stars and galaxy, and the precise interactions of clock machinery. You'll also see, and hear, the way time sometimes seems to morph according to our emotions.

Compared with Taylor-Corbett's kick in the gut, “Gallery” is an emotional disconnect, and “Dances” a trivial confection. But the program is a cohesive example of how varied “Artistic Expressions” can be.